day;1.5
In any normal situation, Aizawa would have not hesitated to follow normal protocol in finding shelter and moving the children to a safer place them focusing on their wounds.
In fact, he would currently be on the move, instructing whoever can move around to get on their feet and keeping a close eye on those unconscious. In any normal situation, he would be calm and level headed, head clear of any intruding thought solely to focus on the task on hand.
But this wasn't a normal situation. Buses didn't fall off the surface of the earth into lonely forests and corpses didn't go missing without any intruder.
"Sensei? Are you okay? You look a bit pale..."
Sero's voice was only met with a half-hearted nod as Aizawa's feet began moving on their own accord. The black-haired boy had his hand pressed against his own head now drenched in blood, a thread of tape hanging off his elbow. His usual smile was replaced with a look of concern, although Aizawa's poker face had remained intact- he knew his teacher well enough to recognize there was a distant look in his eyes. By now several students had their eyes on their teacher, their singular hope, and guiding light in a situation one could hardly prepare for.
"Sensei- I think you should sit down, the crash really didn't give any of us time to prepare for impact"
Murmurs of agreement followed Iida's voice, but that didn't deter Aizawa from his path. Slowly re-entering the bus, careful to avoid the maze of glass poking out at odd corners, until he reached the front of it. Perhaps it would have been easier to have gone around the bus and peek in from the windshield, but Aizawa wasn't looking for easier solutions, he wanted answers and he wanted them fast.
The passenger side had caved in, taking most of the impact headfirst. The exterior was crushed inwards and the backrest of the seat had been ripped off from the rest of it. Splatters of blood had soaked into the tacky blue leather-like material. An odd design but acceptable design forming on what remained of the seat had the context not been so morbid and frankly disgusting. The real horror, however, was the driver's seat. The glass had shattered beyond recognition, leaving little crystals glowing in its wake. The sparkle subconsciously allowed his mind to drift to Aoyama for a moment, he couldn't help but wonder how his student was faring, well aware of the painful trickle of laser leaking from his stomach now that his support item was gone. Blood drenched every inch of whatever remained of the driver's seat. A piece of torn cloth, and what looked like a broken fingernail were the only two things Aizawa could bare to see before having to turn away to dry heave. The body was here, he'd seen it with his own two eyes- the head hanging from the neck which was bent at an odd angle and resting against the cracked windshield. He remembered seeing the odd angle at which the hand was bent as blood dripped off the fingertips. It was the first thing he saw as his blurry vision allowed shapes to come to focus before he was drawn away by pure survival and parental instincts.
A small gasp behind him elicited a sharp change in posture from Aizawa, turning quickly to look at Shinso and Asui standing barely a meter behind him with Iida and Momo looking curiously at the scene from the entrance of the bus. Shinso's typical dull-looking eyes were wide in alarm and horror as he took in the scene before him. Asui had her fingers covering as much of her face as she could, turning green at the sight in front of her. Aizawa might have laughed at the irony was he not struggling himself to refrain from puking.
"Shinso, Asui, why did you both follow me here? Please leave the bus immediately and -"
"Sensei, look-"
Aizawa could barely question what Asui was getting at before he saw it.
A bloody handprint, slowly appearing on the glass pane, scratches surrounding
It wasn't there, he had just scanned the whole area, it wasn't there a moment ago.
He wouldn't have missed it, not when the blood rolled down the glass pane as a looming warning of something insidious heading their way. Not when the bloody imprint looked so fresh and so new as if made merely seconds ago. Heavy breathing he didn't know if it were his own or his frozen students' filled the air. Tension and fear hanging heavy, every nerve in his body begging him to run and hide- forget about being a hero, forget about otherworldly commitments, forget about everything else and just survive.
"Sensei, the handprint, the handprint- it's, it's outside. It's not, why isn't it inside- I don't-"
Shinso's face was one contorted in fear and confusion. Eyes scrunched up in scrutiny, lips drawn into a scowl, an accusatory fingering pointing at the handprint which seemed to have bloomed into a darker shade of crimson. The sickening color of fresh blood, a warning, or a threat, Aizawa didn't have time to ponder.
Carelessly he gripped Asui and Shinso's hands, ignoring the pained gasp which left Asui as his grip on her broken fingers tightened. Shinso, too, staggered a bit following him out in the open, his free hand rubbing the side of his torso slightly. Aizawa should have been gentle, he should have explained them calmly, and then made them evacuate in an orderly manner and find shelter to rest until help arrived. Well, that was the plan originally when it was just him and the kids in a lonely forest. But it was clear it wasn't just them, there was something haunting in the forest.
Something which didn't hide its bloodlust, and something which didn't like the parasitic nature of intruders.
"Iida, help Jiro up and check if Kouda and Shoji are awake or not. I need them to find a safe shelter fast and figure out if anything is hiding nearby. Momo, do you have the energy to produce any first aid kits?"
"Uh, I might, I'm not too sure-"
"Okay, good. Shinso, Asui- I need you both to bandage up whoever needs it the most. Our supplies are limited and alternatives are uncertain right now."
Everyone obeyed silently, sensing the tension flood the air around their teacher. Something was very wrong, even in a situation like, a natural order of sorts had been disrupted and whoever had been maintaining it was coming for them.
With that, he left the children to walk around the catastrophic wreck once again. The storage under the bus, if he could pry that open then he could probably sustain some food and first aid kits. Hopefully, the hero suits of the students were also fine, if push came to shove, they might be forced to get their hands dirty. Of course, if only it were that easy. Currently, the bus lay on its left side, where the door to the storage was crushed under the weight of the bus.
Two choices; try to cut through the metal or try to push the bus upright?
He had built his muscles over the course of many years and rigorous hours of training but the remnants of the bus weighed well over 11,000 kgs. He weighed 63 kgs. A frustrated sigh left him, but before he could reconsider his options a sharp shriek drew his attention.
Midoriya had woken up, panting heavily and hands clutching his throat. His eyes were comically large and mouth agape. A nightmare, daunting to becoming real. Unconsciously, Aizawa approached him as one would with a startled kitten. Crouching down to be eye level with his problem child, he rested his hands on his shoulder.
"Midoriya, I need you to breathe. Can you follow me?"
Unresponsive, eyes glazed over and tears threatening to spill.
"Midoriya, everything is fine. There was just a little accident, it's all okay now. Everyone is here and everyone is fine. I need you to breathe with me, follow my breathing, okay?"
White lies were met with reproachful stares, everyone who had half a mind processing the situation correctly knew it couldn't have been farther than the truth. But Aizawa ignored all of them in favor of calming the boy in front of him, who had stray tears falling down his face.
Sometimes Aizawa forgot how young these children really were. Forgot that they were just children, with barely any experience in the real world. Just young children who weren't supposed to see so much tragedy at such a young age, budding flowers whose petals hadn't even fully taken up their colors- ripped and forced to wilt in the harsh winter.
Midoriya had always had an element of purity to him, whether it was the innocent look in his eyes or his wholesome smile at the opportunity to help someone. Midoriya had always been eager to help with little regard to his own wellbeing, it was a concept Aizawa had seen in many heroes before they were slowly corrupted by the laws of the world outside. No matter how much humans evolved, they would always retain the primalistic quality of tearing up the weaker ones to feel the power.
Midoriya had never been the one to misuse his power, and Aizawa would die before he would allow anything to happen to the boy which would change his kind demeanor.