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The punch lands solidly on his nose, breaking it with a wet crunch. The crack reverberates in the spacious room, the sound ricocheting off concrete walls.
“You really had me fooled Eraserhead. You really did! I’m actually impressed.”
Tomura's voice is a mocking sing song. He can't tell if he sounds amused or sarcastic.
Aizawa doesn’t bother lifting his head, instead focusing on the blood gushing from his broken nose down to his chin, the profuse stream dripping and forming a dark spot on his already ruined slacks.
“After a year or two of infiltrating that blonde bastard’s hovel with nothing substantial to show for it, I had thought you were just losing your touch.”
The blatant reference to Hizashi makes his head twitch, but not enough for the man in front of him to notice. “The great 'Eraserhead': the hidden pride of the Shigaraki family! My father held you and your work in high regard, you know? He'd be rolling in his grave if he knew how you ended up.”
He keeps silent once more. Usually, Aizawa would take this time to scan the room: to look for exits or to get as much info as he needed to formulate some sort of escape plan, but here? He didn't need to.
Aizawa knew exactly where he was. Third floor down from the main Shigaraki estate. Torture room 28, 5th door to the right. It was the room the Shigarakis put their most hated enemies in: high profile enemies, traitors, defectors...
From the bloodied stain next to the sink to the dented old storage closet where they kept the freshly sharpened knives: he knew this room from corner to corner.
It was his previous work room after all.
It was a strange feeling to be on the flip side of the torture coin. His body was strapped to a familiar wooden chair with leather straps that went across his torso and kept his hands and arms in place. Struggling was pointless he surmised; it never did any of his victims any good.
“How long have you been with our family again?” Tomura asks, snapping Aizawa’s mind back into focus. His voice is sugary sweet and Aizawa didn't need to look up to know he had a smarmy smile to match it.
Silence.
A flick of a wrist and a meaty fist buried itself in Aizawa’s stomach, making him gasp in pain. Blood drips from gritted teeth. He would vomit if he had anything left in his stomach but bile and swallowed blood.
“Are you listening? C'mon jog my memory, unless you want another punch from Nomu here.”
Aizawa is still gasping for breathe, utterly winded from the blow. He spares a glance behind him, subtly craning his head as far back as it would allow him.
Nomu.
A member of a group of enforcers that worked exclusively for the Shigaraki family. Every member was massive, strong, and dumb as a bag of bricks - the perfect machines for crushing enemies. No one knows how they were recruited into the family, with some rumors saying they were foreigners from some old Yakuza exchange program. Wherever they came from, they joined the family about 5 years after Aizawa did and haven’t left since.
Currently, one of the 7 foot plus behemoths was behind him, beating the shit out of him on Tomura’s signal and sporting that fucking smile all the members had.
“...22 years.” He finally grinds out. It’s the first words Aizawa has said in hours and it shows. His voice is hoarse and his throat is dry as all hell. Apparently blood didn’t quench a parched mouth. Though, that might have been because he hadn’t been given water in the past two days.
“That long, huh? I hadn’t even realized it; time flies, doesn’t it?” He hears Tomura's steps as he pushes off the chair he had been leaning on.
“It’s been 22 years of you doing my family’s dirty work.” Aizawas teeth clack shut as sudden punch to his chin makes him almost bite off his own tongue.
“22 years of you killing whatever idiot got in our way. No complaints, no nothing.” He hears his fibula break when a steel boot connects with it at the perfect angle.
“22 years…” He hears a finger snap before he feels an iron grip on his hair pull and rip his head back with it. His Adam’s apple wobbles as he is forced to crane his neck up, swallowing blood in his mouth with a steadying gulp.
Aizawa meets blood red eyes and a smile that's like a serrated knife. Tomura’s so close he can smell the expensive scotch in his breath.
“22 years you've bleed for this family and you just decide to quit? Eraserhead. You didn’t think it would be that easy did you?”
The grip in his hair is gone as soon as it appeared and he can finally slump down with a pained huff.
“All it took was some sparkly new boss to make you defect. It’s a shame.”
Through his half lidded gaze, Aizawa sees the tail of Shigaraki's coat as he heads to the exit, Nomu lumbering behind him.
“You really were my favorite member.”
-
“WHERE IS HE?” Gloved hands slam against the oak table, the table shaking from the force of the blow.
Conversations cease. It's deathly silent across the whole table, across the whole meeting room. 14 faction leaders and you could barely hear anyone breathing.
A moment later and Nemuri stands up, placing her hands on the table as well and turning to him, before speaking. “There’s only one place he can be.”
Scarlet eye burning through dark shades snap on her but she doesn’t falter from the intense look. She looks right back at him with a steady gaze.
“He’s with Shigaraki.”
-
It had been a couple weeks since Aizawa and Hizashi’s little heart to heart in the alley way and it was after much deliberation, long talks over exactly how they should go about this, and reassurances that Aizawa wasn’t immediately going to be shot at once the reveal took place that Hizashi set up a meeting with his most trusted advisors.
When everyone files in and takes their seats, Hizashi is at the head of the table with his fingers linking and elbows placed on the oak table. Aizawa is behind him, as always.
“I’m sure you’re all wondering why I called you all here on such notice.”
Nemuri on his left pipes up first. “This have better been good Hizashi, and not one of you "base remodeling ideas." It wouldn't be the first time something like that had happened.
Hizashi’s waves a hand dismissively. “Ha! That’s not for another couple weeks Nemuri! So no, it’s not that.”
He juts a finger behind him at Aizawa. “I called this meeting to say Shouta was the spy in our family the whole time. So case closed on that issue!”
The whole room is in synchronized silence before it explodes, with at least 6 hidden pistols being drawn form inner pockets, all aimed at a surprisingly calm Aizawa.
“HE’S THE WHAT?!” 98% of them yelled (He’s pretty sure he heard one guy exclaim a triumphant “I knew it!” in the back)
“Guys, guys calm down!” Hizashi placates, his voice keeping that easy tone. “You see, Aizawa used to work for Shigaraki, but he recently came clean to me and decided to defect! Isn’t that great!”
Snipe speaks up. His hand is still visibly holding his gun in the arm he lets fall to his side. “Boss, I apologize for being upfront, but you can’t serious expect us to trust him?! He’s a traitor whether he confesses or not!”
“I agree.” All eyes snap back to Aizawa once he speaks up.
Deeming it safe to continue speaking without fear of immediately being shot at, he steps from behind Hizashi to reveal himself further. He wasn’t going to hide anymore. “Even if I decided to switch, it doesn’t change the fact that I was a traitor to begin with"
"Shouta-" Hizashi attempts to whisper, but Aizawa presses forward.
“I don’t expect you all to trust me after this reveal even with Hizashi’s approval; it wouldn’t be logical after all.” He looks across the table of high ranked members, not backing down from any of the suspicious glares
“But I can say honestly that right now: the only one I will serve and protect with my life is your boss. Our boss."
That seems to quiet the room. A majority of the members are still longing at him with suspicion, but there are others that have a hint of approval in their eyes?
“See! Just look at that loyalty!” Hizashi says, clapping his hands together. “Now if you have any further questions I’m sure Sho here would love to answer them!”
“Also as extra reassurance of Aizawa allegiances, we are lovers so I can guarantee that things between us are all cool now! Call this whole debacle water under the bridg-HEY WATCH THE HAIR SHOUTA!”
The meeting to follow was a long one to say the least.
-
13 years ago...
Aizawa was wiping down his tools when he hears his door open behind him.
“Wah! You’re Eraserhead right?!”
Aizawa looks behind him to see a kid. Now, usually, he would be concerned to find a kid in the lower levels of the base, let alone his torture room, but the strikingly familiar mop of white hair and the fact that he had seen it around the base told him exactly who this was - it was his boss’ kid, Tomura.
Behind Tomura is a body guard: a faceless grunt Aizawa doesn’t recognize. Like all guards, the guard is as silent as a rock. As responsive as one too.
He sets down his newly cleaned knife on the tray in front of him and turns to nod. “I am.”
The kid nods his head frantically. "I just knew it! I’ve heard so much about you!” His response is uncharacteristically happy and carefree for someone who’s “heard” a lot about his work.
Aizawa can't really think of a way to respond to that level of enthusiasm. “Uh, thanks.”
“I cant believe I’m talking with such a legend! Is it true you took down a whole organization when you were just 16?" Aizawa's nod only seems to power the kid's excitement further.
"Awesome! I can read really good, so I read like all you’re reports from daddy! Like you killed all those guys in the Kansai district all by yourself, right?” Tomura's eyes, the same shade as his boss', are sparkling now.
He grimaces internally at the display The kid did have a hell of a parental figure, but to be this happy about him killing, geez. He nods again hesitantly.
“Wah! You're so cool!” And suddenly Aizawa tenses reflexively.
Tomura is smiling up at him fanatically, but it’s with more than just admiration; there was something else in that gaze. Something akin to...hunger? Mania? Like a kid who’s just acquired a new toy he was eager to play with.
“I can’t wait when I become the new head.” Obsidian meets ruby eyes. “We’re going to have so much fun together!”
-
Thump, thump, thump, thump.
“Snipe was able to infiltrate the family estate under the guise of a clean up crew member. He currently stationed at one of the three upper floors.”
Thump, thump, thump, thump.
The speaker gulps but doesn't falter in their report. "So far, he hasn't been suspected by anyone and-"
"Does he know where Eraserhead is?" Hizashi finally speaks. The ostinato of his fingers on the table contradicting his controlled voice and still expression.
To their credit, the gang member doesn't cower from the intense eyes boring through him. "He hasn't, no. He's searched three floors so far; by tomorrow he should be able to check the lower floors to confirm Erasherhead's location. End of report."
Hizashi only nods, his eyes averting to his desk with fingers interlaced, no doubt retreating into his mind to think, to plan. He waves a hand. "Keep me updated on any developments. You're dismissed."
With a bow, the member leaves, leaving Hizashi in an empty room. Too empty. Hizashi grinds his teeth in frustration at the aching feeling of something, someone, missing.
-
“T-The call is for you.” A phone is offered to the Shigaraki family’s newly appointed head with shaking hand.He must have drawn the short end of the stick if he was sent as a messenger to interrupt Tomura’s ‘fun’,
Fortunately for him, Shigaraki had just finished his torture session with Aizawa, so he was in a fine mood.
Taking the cell he waves him off with a flick and the member is scrambles out with shaking knees. Shigaraki answers. “Who is this?”
“You stole something from me, Tomura. Something that is mine.”
“Hizashi. Nice to hear from you. You never call.” He leans back against the tool cart, oozing nonchalance with an easy smirk on his face.
Aizawa snaps his head up, looking up for the first time through twin black eyes. Not a sound leaves his bloodied lips.
“As for what is yours. Eraserhead here is technically a Shigaraki family member you know. Or did he not tell you that? He's rightfully-“
“Either you return him or I take him back.”
He barks out a laugh; the scalpels and clamps on the trays behind him rattle with the sound. "I'd like to see you try.”
And he hangs up, tossing the phone behind him. He slowly trails his gaze back to the bloodied Aizawa. “Now, where were we?”
Miles away, a phone is thrown at a wall with such force that it shatters on impact.
-
The kidnapping goes like this.
Aizawa had just wanted to buy a magazine. More specially, Hizashi had been the want this specific magazine (an obscure one that Aizawa couldn't be bothered to read, much less know about), but he had been stuck with back to back meeting with several appointments back at base
Which obviously meant Aizawa, his right hand man, was to be the one tasked with the job. He still didn’t know why he had to be the one to walk 15 minutes away from base, on foot, just to get the newest issue instead of some other lackey but Aizawa had learned that arguing with Hizashi was a loss cause, simply because Hizashi likes to argue, which give the man a significant advantage and near boundless motivation to win.
This is why you could see him grumble his way back to base with cargo in hand, smoking an annoyance cigarette.
It was also because of his foul mood that he hadn't realized that when he had turned to corner to use his usual shortcut back, he had walked straight into an ambush.
His reflexes where the only thing that made him dodge the blow to the back of his head, the bat missing his temple by a couple inches.
Cursing his lapse in attention, Aizawa jumps back only to dodge yet another enemy's attack by a hairs breath; he could feel the edge of the katana graze his shirt's side.
Dropping the magazine, he tries to reach for his gun, but he feels a chain wrap around his wrist before he sees it and with a tug his right, he stumbles a bit before he regains his balance. How many ambushers were there?
Resisting the pull, he looks up to see the user, until he feels a bat connect with his shin. Cursing he ignores the pain, kicking out to bury a roundhouse kick into the batter's face. The crunch of a broken nose eases the pain a bit, before he is tugged with the chain again, the tightness of it cutting his wrist's circulation.
Instead of pulling back, he rolls with the momentum of the powerful tug, wrapping the chain along his other arm with the slack. He rolls back u in a fluid motion, using his own arm as an anchor, and slamming his foot down on the now taut chain.
The chain user falls with the unexpected force, tugged down by their own weapon, and as they loosen their grip, Aizawa untangles himself so he can stomp-
"Gah!" Aizawa chokes, as the katana buries itself into his side. He had forgotten about the katana user. Before he can even turn to them, a bat meets the back of his head with a sickening crack.
The world goes sideways as Aizawa falls to the ground, clutching his side as the katana slides out with a silent shing, head pounding.
The last thing he sees is the batter, their nose crooked and bleeding, bring a phone up to their ear until he sees black.
"We've got him."
-
"Do you ever regret leaving?"
Aizawa twists his body to look at Hizashi across the bed. The Yakuza head was sitting up, back straight, opposed to Aizawa, who was laying lazily on the sheets. The warmth of the room and late hour making him feel relaxed despite the cryptic question.
Like many questions though, at least when it came to Hizashi's, Aizawa knew exactly what he was asking about.
"Never." His voice is temperate, but there's an underlying tone with it; something harsh and unwavering and angry. Hizashi would be deaf if he didn't pick up on it."
"It was really that bad, huh?"
"Yeah." Aizawa keeps his gaze steady with Hizashi. "It was. And I'm never going back. Not now, not ever."
The lighting is dim, but he can see Hizashi smile. "And you'll never have to. Not if I have anything to say about it."
"Good. Now let me go to sleep. I'm tired from saving your ass all day." Aizawa catches the pillow thrown at him without a word, smirking.
"Says the man who loves this ass."
Aizawa ignores him, closing his eyes.
-
“Tell me why you chose him, Eraserhead.”
Aizawa stays silent, like he usually does. Like a rag doll, he looks blankly at the floor, his eyes dark and faraway.
That was his usual way of getting through torture sessions. Detaching made it so much easier to deal with the pain. It meant he didn’t have to worry about injuries until they were inflicted; he only had to worry about broken bones and torn skin when it was over.
But Shigaraki seemed more impatient than usual. He punches Aizawa in the jaw. Shigaraki never had a strong right hook, even when Aizawa had taught him how to throw a solid one, but that one would leave a bruise.
“All these years you stayed loyal. What's so different about him? Tell me WHY you choose to defect!!”
“..."
Aizawa hears him before huff through clenched teeth. He hears a door slam shut soon after.
-
"Snipe has located and confirmed Eraserhead's location in the estate," the member reports.
Finally, Hizashi thinks.
Things move very quickly after that.
-
It doesn’t last long, this stalemate. Only four days.
It's quiet in front of the Shigaraki estate. Two guards are stationed in the garden, standing lazily against the closed gates.
"Operation starts: now,"
Snipe, still in disguise, is walking down the hallway near the gates, just as planned, when he hears Hizashi's voice through his earpiece loud and clear. Wasting no time, he turns toward the gate, shooting the two guards who see him approaching down before they have even turned fully. Those two gunshots are all the warning Hizashi gives the family: a professional courtesy.
"Open them up."
The Shigaraki's gates open and just like a tidal wave, a sea of black appears and floods the estate with a unified yell.
Leading them all is none other than Hizashi Yamada, his own custom pistol in hand. Without his trademark shades, his eyes burn for all to see.
They were going to show them exactly why the Yamada family stood at the top.
-
"Hizashi."
"Tomura."
The sounds of distant battle can be heard as the two of them stand facing each other, gun on either hand. Behind them the cooling body of a Nomu, a gun shot through either eye, courtesy of Hizashi's expert shooting.
"So you really came. It took you longer than I had expected." Shigaraki's voice is calm, despite his circumstances. Of the two, it was obvious who was the better shot.
Hizashi's eyes bore into him, staying silent. He isn't here to play games.
The two stare at each other for a moment, the silence tense, before they raise their guns at the same time.
Before Shigaraki can even pull the trigger, Hizashi has shot the gun right out of his hands. The next shot is aimed at younger man's thigh and then his shoulder.
Shigaraki falls with a yell, cursing. Hizashi calmly walks forward, kicking Shigaraki's gun to the corner of the room. When he reaches him, his stomps his foot down, right on his bloody shoulder. He cries out again.
He levels his gun at Shigaraki's face. "I should kill you. Right now." His voice is is icy with cold fury.
"I could kill you. Squash you like the disgusting bug you are." He wants to pull the trigger, to see how Shigaraki's brains paint the floor. "But alas, I can't kill a fellow Yakuza head unless it's approved by the council. A shame. But remember this"
He kneels down, so close he can smell the blood and fear off of him. " I spared your pathetic life because I didn't want to commit treason and trigger a country wide war. But don't think, for even a second, that I won't blow your brains out if you ever touch what's mine again."
Hizashi makes it a point to grind his foot down, making the other flinch through gritted teeth. "Do you understand me?"
Shigaraki nods, fear evident even through his glare.
"Good." And with that, Hizashi stands up and leaves without another word, the head of the Shigaraki family bleeding out behind him.
-
Aizawa is awaken by harsh banging on the rooms door.
He was five floors down from the entrance of the estate, completely isolated from the chaos that was ensuing upstairs. So with no prior knowledge, he stared at the door quizzically as the banging continued.
What in the world is-
Two gunshots can be heard in the hallway outside before the door swings open with a bang. A bloodied Hizashi appears at the doorway, leg still raised from kicking the door open.
"HIZASHI!" Aizawa wonders who just yelled but then he realizes it's his own voice, hoarse from under use and days without water.
From his chair, Aizawa can see a multitude of emotions from his lover. Relief, happiness, anger, and something he can't decipher, until Hizashi's rushing to his side.
He kisses him immediately, breathless from seeing Shouta alive. Aizawa returns it in full, matching his desperation. If his hands weren't tied, he'd be running them through Hizashi's hair.
Hizashi pulls away first, looking over Aizawa with obvious concern, eyebrows creased as he assessed the damage. At least the damage I can see he thinks darkly.
He cups his lovers face in his gloved hands, "What did he do to you?"
Aizawa shakes his head. "Nothing I hadn't experienced before. Are you hurt though? That blood. Where-"
"You're the one who's been tortured here for I don't know how many days, and you're worried about me?" Hizashi's voice sounds hysterical; he'd laugh if the circumstances weren't so serious. He waved off Aizawa's worried gaze "I'm fine. None of this blood is mine."
He goes behind him, looking at his restraints. Thankfully they aren't some kind of metal shackle that needs a key, but he grinds his teeth at the sight of Aizawa's wrists: bloodied and bruised black and blue from struggling against ropes tied too tightly.
"What I'm worried about is if you're okay, but just from looking at you, I can see that you're not." His voice is tight with frustration and anger, as he started cutting at Aizawa's bonds with the switchblade he kept in his pocket. Once Aizawa's hands are free, his arms drop to is side weakly, Aizawa grunting as the blood started to recirculate.
"We stormed the place so we should be receiving some help as soon as we start ascending." Hizashi gathers him up in his arms, letting Aizawa lean on him, trying not to jostle his injuries too much. The movement still makes Aizawa groan in pain. The sound hits Hizashi harder than it should. "I requested Chiyo's help from the Nedzu family as well; they should be meeting up back at the base, so just hold on a bit longer."
"Stormed the Shigaraki's family's estate. Only you'd be dumb enough to do that." His voice is already hoarse from dehydration and speaking further only makes him realize how dry his throat is. He coughs, nearly choking. Hizashi shuffles forward, slowly toward the doors.
"Thanks for coming for me, Hizashi." Aizawa finally says after the coughing subsides enough.
"Of course I'd come for you!" Hizashi responds immediately, gripping at Aizawa's rumpled shirt from the back, as a way of steadying him. "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner. I had to make sure..."
He couldn't very well attack another family out of nowhere without valid proof - that could start a faction war. Even so, saying that he could have broken into Shigaraki's place sooner than now left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he swallows it.
"But I'm here now. And I'll never let anyone take you away from me again. I promise." Even dehydrated and tired as all hell, Aizawa can hear the determination and conviction clearly in Hizashi's declaration. His words echo in the hall as they make their way up to where the sounds of action and fighting grew louder and louder.
"And in return, you'll never leave my side, right?" He can hear shouts ahead of them - figures bearing the Yamada family crest noticing their head from afar.
Aizawa bows his head and hides his bloodied smile. "Of course, 'Boss'."
Not now, not ever.