Archive of Our Own

Shouta sat alert as Nemuri ran the blade under his cheek. It followed the line of his jaw before scraping his chin. She smiled, giving him a good natured laugh. 

“You can breathe, Aizawa. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

He flushed, not realizing he’d even been holding his breath. It was a relief to let out the air that had been filling his chest. “I know that.” The blade continued to follow the curves of his face, cleaning up his unruly facial hair. He still couldn’t help his nerves. Nemuri was taking too much pleasure in this for him to sit calmly. “Are you almost done?”

“Patience! You’re gonna look good.” Nemuri smirked, grabbing his cheeks and turning his face to get a better look. “Don’t get distracted when you’re suddenly swarmed with attention, alright?” She winked. “Even if the guys are cute.”

Aizawa rolled his eyes. “I’m on a mission - I won’t be getting distracted…” He wasn’t interested in hooking up anyway. He was already in a relationship, even if he couldn’t admit that to his friend just yet. 

“Alright, alright grumpy.” She set the straight razor down and went over his neck and chin with a washcloth. “You should be thanking me - if I hadn’t volunteered, I’m sure Naomasa would’ve sent you to a salon.” 

Aizawa shuddered. Just the thought of wasting $60 on a haircut and shave disgusted him. He was actually quite grateful Nemuri had taken over and done a lot to better his appearance. 

The two had already picked out his outfit and cleaned up his hair. After arguing back and forth, they decided to pull it out of his face with a loose bun. Not as professional as Nemuri wanted, but not disheveled enough to cause suspicion. 

“Alright! Makeup time!” Nemuri approached him with a bag that was obviously her own and pulled out several tubes of lipstick, lip gloss, mascara and highlighter.

“No. You are not covering me in your clown paint.” He grimaced as she waved around a makeup brush.

“Hush - I’m just going to cover up that scar.” He felt the brush playfully swipe against his cheek. “Wouldn’t want that to stand out.”

Aizawa grumbled but agreed that covering his facial scar would be the smart thing to do. Anything that could single him out would be a threat to his mission.

While Nemuri smeared foundation across his upper cheek, following that familiar crescent with her thumb, Aizawa made mental checklists. 

His mission was somewhat simple. He would attend the party, pick out the villain, and apprehend them before anyone could get hurt.

It didn’t surprise him why he’d been picked for the job, with his superior stealth and the fact that most villains couldn’t easily recognize him. It gave him a good leg up. 

He tried not to think about how he’d have to act all night - something outside his comfort zone - and how he’d be forced to socialize . Naomasa had drilled it into him that this villain was very dangerous. They’d gathered leads from high profile villains to small time criminals. Through extensive questioning, they’d seemed fixated on this party, and the police needed to take action in a way that wouldn’t alert their catch.

“Okay pretty boy, give me your best ‘I’m richer than you’ smirk.” Nemuri zipped up her baggy and pretended to take pictures, giggling at his discomfort. He decided to humor her and give a toothy half smile, but it only made her giggle more, spurring on her jokes.  “Oh man, that’s killer. Now I wish I really did have a camera.” She smothered her laughs and held up his pressed suit jacket. “Let’s complete the look, huh? C’mon, c’mon!” 

Aizawa stood up from his chair, slipping the tailored jacket on and letting her smooth it down. 

“Wow, you haven’t looked so cute since your mom made you wear that tux to graduation~” She sing-songed.

Aizawa coughed to cover his shame. As if to distract him, she sprayed a bit of cologne, which made his nose wrinkle. “Too much.”

Nemuri shushed him. “They have to smell the money - you don’t wanna know how much this bottle cost me.”

“Why do you own expensive cologne in the first place?” He tried to keep himself from pulling a face when she rubbed it across the collar of his shirt.

“I keep my secrets and you keep yours.” She capped the offensively scented cologne and appraised him a final time. “You should let me dress you up more often.”

“No, I really shouldn’t.” He blew a strand of hair away. “But thank you.”

Nemuri shoved him towards a mirror and let him look himself over. He wasn’t interested in appearances for the most part, especially not his own. It seemed trivial to worry about what someone looked like when their actions would show what kind of person they really were. Still, he did have to admit he resembled every rich, stuck-up bachelor pasted across convenience store magazine aisles. 

“Looks … fitting.”

Nemuri whistled. “I’ll take that as a ‘perfect job’!” She twirled around behind him. “And to that I say you’re welcome .”

She paused. 

Aizawa turned to see her splayed across the chair he’d been seated at, looking uncharacteristically solemn. “Y’know you could always bring someone with you - you don’t have to go alone.” Her brows pulled together in apparent worry. “If there really is some psycho, it would be safer to have a team.”

Aizawa shook his head. “It’s okay.” He wasn’t one to play up his own abilities, but focusing on a negative outcome never helped. “I’m sure I can handle whatever happens.”

Nemuri sighed but accepted it. Aizawa was stubborn, and at this point she couldn’t argue with him. “Fine - but if you get hurt I’ll kill you...” She turned the straight razor over in her hands, watching as it reflected the overhead light. “Be careful.”

“I will.”

He tucked his capture scarf under his jacket as inconspicuously as possible - if there was one thing he couldn’t leave behind, it was that. Nemuri had snuck a few extra weapons under his clothes, which he was grateful for. It almost made up for the fact she’d tried to wax his eyebrows. “I’ll give you an update tonight.”

She smiled, softer than usual. “Just be safe.”

Naomasa had set aside a good amount of time before the party for a final debrief. They sat in the back of the police car that would be dropping Aizawa off later. The detective seemed more worn out than usual, due to the frantic, last-minute scramble for any information they could get. 

Really, there wasn’t much out of place that he could key into once he was snooping. Aside from general security, he was really there as a backup plan in case this rumor came to fruition. p

“Midnight gave you quite the makeover.” Naomasa said smoothly. “I want to remind you that when you locate the villain, you should notify the authorities as soon and as covertly as possible. We’ll have units stationed nearby to nullify threats to civilian safety.”

He nodded along. If he couldn’t arrest the villain before they pulled a stunt then it would be a standard hostage situation. “Do we have any information about this villain’s quirk? Gender? If there’s some physical attribute then we could put together a profile to go off of it’d make this night go a lot easier.”

Naomasa hung his head. “That’s just it - we don’t have any concrete idea about what this person looks like. No one I’ve questioned has even seen them.” He let his gaze come back to Aizawa’s face. “And I can tell you they weren’t lying.” The chief of police had a polygraph quirk, it was a scary situation to be on the end of that knowing look he gave when he was using it.

A lack of description would make his job harder, but Aizawa was up to the challenge. This would be a testament to his ability to read people and react quickly. “I understand.” His dress shoes scuffed against the car's dingy carpet while he fidgeted. 

“Hey, best outcome: this is all hearsay and you get to enjoy the party.” He chuckled. “Don’t stress it. We chose you for a reason, after all.”

Aizawa recalled what he’d first been told when approached with the rundown. 

“Your ability to remain calm and collected is vital, Eraser.”

Naomasa had done all he could. Now it was his time to be the hero they needed.

As Aizawa exited the car, he smoothed down his slacks. These people cared about appearances, and he couldn’t screw things up before he’d even stepped in the door. 

The decor was as flashy and gaudy as he had imagined it would be. The whole event was taking place inside some rich donor’s mansion. He’d heard this was initially organized to celebrate some company’s achievement over how many donors they’d acquired. It was all jargon and nonsense to him, but understanding the purpose was part of his script. Several people were chatting outside - they looked as dolled up as he felt. He couldn’t imagine dressing like this regularly…

Several other men appeared to be wearing similarly styled suits to his own. He took a note of the brands in case someone dared to mention fashion in his general presence.

His own dress suit was dark blue: the perfect color for blending in and melting in the large crowd. He didn’t see much use in the satin-lined pockets and ornate buttons. It was more expensive than anything he’d ever bought himself, but this was his hero gear tonight.

His eyes tracked the outer walls, the bricks sprawled with ivy. There seemed to be about three stories, all incredibly spacious. He couldn’t see into the windows, so he’d need to wait until he was inside to get a better look. 

Passing by the group outside gave him an idea about what the conversations would be targeted towards. There was an amalgam of many different people, but it sounded like networking mostly - listing accomplishments and the benefits of one’s own organization and hoping for a partnership.

Aizawa walked up the short flight of stairs on the porch and directed his way to the parlor room. It was somehow bigger than the exterior had hinted, with high arched ceilings and a grand chandelier.

He was stopped by a rough looking man at the door and was prompted to identify himself. The general security had been told he would be attending, so it wasn’t a hassle to flash his ID and begin ambling about the hall. 

There must have been several hundred people chatting amongst themselves. He could pick out some local celebrities - mostly pro-heroes who he’d spotted on billboards or bus benches selling some product. The rest of the crowd was made up of various important businessmen - some he recognized from his dossier and others he didn't.

They weren’t the type of people he usually mingled with, which put him in less danger of being recognized. These were heroes who adored the spotlight - those who could spend hours describing themselves and going over their many ‘heroic achievements’.

His skin crawled beneath his stuffy suit, his eyes dancing from person to person as he blended in with the crowd drifting toward the wall. He knew he would feel out of place, but he could not have prepared for the true anxiety of it all.

Aizawa found himself hugging the wall to give himself a more advantageous spot. His hands brushed up against ornate frames. The whole place seemed to be covered in gaudy paintings and statues, depicting horses, warriors, Greek gods, and other scenes he couldn’t recognize. They must’ve been expensive to be hanging up like so. His eyes wandered from portrait to portrait. 

He felt someone bump into his arm and he waved off their apology. It was too loud. He would’ve preferred a nice night at home with his cat Kiki. Stepping toe to toe with his boyfriend would’ve probably been better than this…

Hopefully this would all be over soon.

He thought heading up to the balcony would distance him enough from the noise, and grabbing some of the free food couldn’t hurt either (although determining what was what was its own challenge).

However, his thoughts were suddenly halted at the sight of a stranger approaching him. Careful not to rouse suspicion, Aizawa attempted a friendly smile and waited patiently, studying the stranger's body language.

It wasn’t until this mysterious person slyly reached into his own pocket that he whipped around and grabbed their wrist firmly. He probably used more strength than was expected (or necessary), but he was being cautious.

Aizawa froze.

It was Hizashi: his Hizashi .

He was way more dolled up than usual, with his hair tied back in a braid and his sunglasses traded out for a plain pair of frames. His suit fit him perfectly, cinching at the waist and falling well past his hips. Gold sequins and a gaudy, twinkling bowtie gleaned back at him. It had to be the most garishly colored suit he’d ever seen - it screamed almost as loud as its owner.

While he could’ve spent an embarrassing amount of time dissecting Mic’s fashion choice, the implications of Mic being there sent his thoughts screeching to a halt.

Mic wasn’t some millionaire CEO or tech startup genius. He was a villain and by all means shouldn't have been there.. Unless…

Naomasa’s warning words rang through his head:

Dangerous. Serious threat. To be dealt with the utmost care. 

Deadly. Deceitful.

Aizawa let the hurt and betrayal flash on his face before yanking Mic’s wrist closer. “ You .”

Hizashi bumbled and flushed before him. “Hey! I ... man I wasn’t trying to... I was just gonna … touch your butt!”

Aizawa narrowed his eyes. Mic must not have recognized him yet - he didn't blame him with the magic Nemuri had pulled.

Without saying a word, he pulled the villain out of the crowd. His heart was pounding in his chest as attention was drawn their way at Mic's loud, unashamed protests at being physically removed from the main room.

But this conversation needed to be private, away from prying ears eager for the smallest drop of gossip. Especially if the villain was here to do whatever insidious deed he already seemed to be guilty of.

He found a nearby supply closet and wrenched the door open, shoving Hizashi in before turning to shut the door, blocking the exit with his body. It was dark and smaller than Aizawa had wanted, but in a situation like this, he wasn't going to complain. Any secluded place would work, and walking around with a man dressed in glitter, shouting protest was going to break his cover for sure.

“H-Hey man! I have a boyfriend!! Seven minutes in heaven is outta the question! Let me leave!” He could hear a tinge of fear in the villain's voice - it wasn't something he was used to and it made Aizawa's stomach turn.

“You won’t until you start explaining.” His voice was gruff and curt.

“Shou-chan?” His eyes had adjusted to the dark enough to see Hizashi’s face light up in splendid recognition.

“This is heaven! If you wanted a quickie you coulda rang~!” His voice dipped low and seductive.

Aizawa placed a hand against Hizashi’s shoulder, keeping him in place. He hadn't pulled him in for their usual game of cops and robbers. His heart was pounding thinking of how he'd been fooled, of how Mic might have been playing him all along. Had he been pulling these kinds of stunts behind his back all this time? Was Aizawa just being used? Did Hizashi even like him, or had it all been a game from the start - a distraction to keep his eyes off the real crimes…?

“Just what do you think you’re doing here? Causing panic at the police station? Threatening people’s lives? Speak up before I cuff you and throw you into the back of a police car!” His other hand clenched and shook at his side. “I won't visit you either!”

Hizashi’s face twisted in confusion and fear. “Wh-! They’re... Shouta, they’re just watches and earrings! I-I’m sorry!”

Shouta gritted his teeth. “What are you talking about?”

“What am I talking about? What are you talking about! The jewelry? That I’ve been pickpocketing off these rich inheritance babies?” He reached his hands into the pockets on his suit pants and showed off quite a few twinkling trinkets. His hands were adorned by rings: earrings, watches and bracelets that were undoubtedly all stolen. “I’m sorry! I didn’t expect to be caught, okay? These people don't even notice they’re gone since they're so stinking rich!” His face looked desperate. “I need rent money! Cat food is expensive, yo!”

Aizawa couldn't tear his gaze away from the offered amalgam of accessories. “This … is why you’re here? You’re here to pickpocket celebrities ?” He would’ve been more surprised if every part of his body wasn’t crumpling in relief.

“Yes? Wait… Why else would I be here? Why are YOU here? Are you rich?” Hizashi suddenly leaned a bit closer. “Hey, how much do you get paid? Like, are we talking six figures or what?”

Aizawa slumped against the supply closet door and let out the breath he’d been holding. “You scared the shit out of me.” Somehow Mic always found a way to disappoint him gently. “Why pick this place to rob, huh? Is a bank too cheesy for you? Need something flashy, right?”

Mic leaned opposite him. He took a moment to shove his stolen wealth away before answering. “Banks have hardcore security. Do you have any idea how hard that would be for just one guy? Not to mention the trouble that would cause for the people who keep their money there. If I'm gonna nab something that ain’t mine, I’m going straight to the assholes on top.” He fiddled with a cable on the metal shelf next to them. “Plus it's more fun, dontcha think? And I blend in pretty well!”

He didn't, but Aizawa would let him believe it if it meant he didn't have to debate about the upscale fashion of a sequined suit. “That's somehow understandable.” Mic always found a way to make his crimes more justified than they should’ve been. “So, you’re not here as some deranged assassin…?”

Mic shuddered. “Assassin? Why the hell would you think that?”

Aizawa weighed the dangers of telling Hizashi why he was here in the first place. This was a serious job, and if Mic wasn't his villain then that meant there was still something to deal with. 

Maybe it wouldn't be too bad to tell him. If he could figure out a way to have this little encounter benefit him, then there was no complaining, right?

“This whole place is in trouble. Word from higher ups says that a villain is raiding this place and may already be here in secret.”

Hizashi had a moment of panic before whispering back. “You mean like … they’re gonna bomb the place?”

Aizawa shook his head. “I don’t know what exactly, but you have to be alert. Things could change in a second, so wasting our time in here is already dangerous enough.”

Hizashi grimaced. “Are you telling me to leave?”

“...No.” The hero clenched his jaw before pushing the rest of his request out. “I want you to help me .”

Hizashi grinned. “Me? Moi ? What could little old me do for you ?” He looked satisfied with Aizawa’s proposal and he hadn't even heard the whole thing!

“I know you don’t technically work for us, but you're smart and more qualified than you think you are. I could use your intelligence, and another pair of eyes won't hurt. As long as you follow my orders and try not to make a scene, I think you could help out.” Hizashi was already accustomed to the building and was already in costume. Aizawa had seen the voice villain do things leagues above his fellow heroes, and he had more faith in his hopeless romantic than he would ever admit.

Hizashi was already bouncing from foot to foot. “Really? Wait, what’s in it for me?”

“The knowledge that these ‘inheritance babies’ won’t die tonight?”

Hizashi hummed. “I guessss , but how ‘bout a date?”

Aizawa flushed from the tip of his nose to the tips of his ears. “You can't barter with romance, Hizashi. It’s unethical.”

“Fine, fine - I was only joking!” Hizashi saluted. “We’ll be co-heroes! Fighting crime and stopping the baddies as an unbeatable, indescribably handsome power couple!” He struck what could only be described as a cliche heroic pose, with arms akimbo and legs locked together.

“You’ll be more like my sidekick,” Aizawa stated.

That made Hizashi visibly deflate. “Ew. I am not a sidekick. That’s lame as all hell - I’m better than that and you know it!”

Aizawa rolled his eyes. “Okay, partner . We need to get going before there's no-one to save.”

Hizashi sprang into action. “Right! We’ve gotta locate the villains!” He tucked a few loose strands of hair away and gave him a blinding smile. “Hey, we should have code-names! This is a covert operation, after all. What should my special name be? Gotta protect my privacy and all.”

Aizawa ran a hand down his face, although it was weird not to feel his usual scratchy stubble. “I’m… not very good at nicknames... Or hero names. I didn’t even name my own cat.” He recalled Nemuri frantically deciding one for him when he’d gone three months of just calling her “Kitty”.

Hizashi seemed disheartened, but perked up in an instant. The way he could recover from a moment of sadness was one of the things Aizawa would probably never understand. “Okay, well maybe if I give you a name it might inspire you!” He tapped a finger against his chin and hummed while he thought it over. “Hmm… Maybe Seiji? Seitaro? Seijou?” 

Shouta grumbled. “Anything is fine - I really don’t care.”

Hizashi just grinned. “Seiji it is! Okay, now me! I want something nice.” He batted his eyelashes as if that would affect the decision.

“Masao. There - we’re done now.” Shouta didn’t waste time. 

 “Lead the way!” 

 “Just stay quiet and look for anything out of place. Remember: we’re not trying to attract attention.” 

He creaked the door open and maneuvered into the empty hall. Thankfully no one seemed to be interested in this part of the building, which left them free to rejoin the party without looking suspicious. He turned to see Mic patting his clothes down where they’d been ruffled. It brought him a strange kind of embarrassment, despite knowing they hadn’t been up to anything unbecoming of two heroes on a mission - or, well, one hero and a troublemaking, temporary vigilante. 

Just when Shouta thought they were ready to work comfortably in tandem, Mic drew closer. “Hey, you smell pretty nice, not to mention you shaved…” He made a click in the back of his mouth. “That’s pretty sexy.”

Aizawa huffed. “Are you ready to take this seriously? I could tell security to throw you out.”

“No, no! I’m good! Just gotta show my respect for the drip.” He gestured towards his boyfriend exaggeratedly.

“I don’t even know what that means.” His ears burned. Hizashi had a special knack for finding new ways to embarrass him. “Why don’t you head towards the bar and try to drag out some information from those guys.” He wasn’t very good at small talk himself, so having Hizashi do the schmoozing for him meant he had less chance of saying something awkward.

“Right - meet up in fifteen?” 

“Don’t do anything stupid.” 

“Love you too.” Hizashi blew him a kiss before joining the rest of the guests.

Aizawa trained his eyes back on his surroundings. He could certainly explore the upper floors of the mansion, but that might put him in a tricky spot if someone caught him alone. If he was quick, there might be time to check the kitchen. He surreptitiously made his way back to the main part of the ballroom before crossing the floor. He could spy personnel moving in and out of some swinging doors opposite the front entrance. Perhaps this was an inside job; threatening somewhere you worked wasn’t the smartest idea, but a personal grudge would be a logical motive. 

It wasn’t long before he slipped inside and checked the bustling cooking area himself. Trays of food and drink were carted about like a well oiled machine. It was somewhat appetizing, but his focus was needed elsewhere. Perhaps the villain planned to poison the host? He held his head high and walked like he was meant to be there. Confidence was key, more often than not: looking the part was more important than having the credentials.

With so many people moving around at once, it was hard to focus on any particular server. It felt a bit like watching bees buzzing around. Aizawa looked over plates and bowls, but nothing seemed amiss, there was no way to test the food, so there wasn’t much point to his observations. Shit. How was he supposed to see anything if these people wouldn’t stand still?

A door to the back garden allowed him to take a breather. He sat down on a bench outside and pulled at the collar of his button-up. It’d been more hot and stuffy in there than he’d realized.

The courtyard was filled with plants and flowers of varying types. He didn’t need to know much about horticulture to recognize it was quite impressive. Quiet too.

Aizawa sighed. So far all he had managed to do was entertain the antics of a leather fanatic. The whole mansion seemed too huge. He couldn’t possibly scope out every bathroom and bedroom.

He was about to head back inside when he spotted someone out of the corner of his eye. There was some movement on one of the second floor balconies. It was too dark to make out any facial features, but something told him to pursue them. It couldn’t have been someone else investigating, as he’d been informed he was the only hero stationed there tonight. He needed to tell Hizashi.

He quickly maneuvered inside and tried not to knock any dishes over as he bounded past the cooks. A mix of “ Hey ” and “ Woah ” followed him as he scurried past other patrons. 

His heart suddenly raced. Where was Hizashi? His eyes scanned every man seated at the bar, but he didn’t see the blond anywhere - certainly a feat considering his choice of attire.

An inappropriately loud laugh made his head turn. Apparently Hizashi had moved to entertaining people near the banquet tables. A brisk walk towards him and hand on his shoulder was enough to snap Hizashi out of whatever topic he’d been so excitedly yammering on about.

“Masao-”

“Oh! I’ve been looking for you.” He brought a hand around to Shouta’s waist. “This is my husband I was talking about.”

The group of women who stood in front of Hizashi now pointed their attention towards him. He saw a few nod their heads interestedly. Aizawa flushed and spluttered in embarrassment. Just what kind of lies had Mic been spouting?

“Isn’t he so handsome?” Hizashi cooed. “Seiji, why don’t you tell them about our trip to Barbados?”

Aizawa panicked. He didn’t like being put on the spot, and he certainly wasn’t an adequate improvisor. “Uh- Masao… Honey-” His voice was clipped and halting. “I just … um. Wanted to talk to you about something in private .” He gestured his head away from their company.

Hizashi moved the hand at his waist to hang around his shoulder. “Ah- I’m sorry ladies. We’ll pick this up a bit later. Say hello to the kids for me, Sato-san.” With a little wave he was moving them away from the more populated areas of the hall.

Aizawa tried not to question how the other man could be so friendly and conversational with people he had just met. “What the hell was that?”

Hizashi grinned. “You said to schmooze, so I was schmoozing!”

Aizawa huffed. Some things would always elude him. In any case, they had more important things to focus on. “I saw someone moving around the upper levels of the courtyard-”

“Ooooohh!” Hizashi cut in. “Someone … evil? Suspicious? Downright dastardly?” 

“I don’t know, but I didn’t get a good feeling about them.” Aizawa pushed the two of them towards the stairs. “I think it’d be best to do a full scan of the second floor.”

Hizashi nodded. “And where do you think-”

“ ATTENTION! ”

The two of them froze where they stood. Someone had finally taken the stage that had been barren all night.

Standing some thirty feet away, a shapely woman gestured towards the crowd of people. 

“Ladies and gentlemen if you would please find your seats. We have an announcement for our esteemed guests.”

Aizawa had enough sense to pull him and Hizashi away from the crowd before people started trampling them.

“What do you think that’s about?” Hizashi stayed close. “Where’re we going?”

Aizawa shushed him before stopping under an overhang. “No idea. Whatever this is won’t matter if we can’t locate the threat.” If there even was one, he added internally.

Back at center stage, the woman continued. “As you know, our gracious host has put together a most spectacular party…”

Aizawa scanned the upper floors before he met another pair of eyes that were staring straight back at him. A shiver went up his spine. “There.”

He pointed towards it, but just as Hizashi turned the figure was gone again.

“What?” Hizashi squinted where he’d gestured. “Am I supposed to be looking at something or are you punking me?”

“There was someone up there on the second floor,” Aizawa grumbled.  “It gave me a bad feeling.” He moved towards the opposite staircase, dragging a fumbling Mic with him. “The fact they took off so quickly only makes me more suspicious.”

Hizashi squinted as best he could. “You think someone’s planning to sabotage the big speech thingy?” It would make sense to try something now when most of the guest’s attention was somewhere else. “Won’t we look a little weird trailing them? For all we know there could be some trap waiting for us once we get up there.”

“I doubt it, considering there weren’t any heroes supposed to be stationed to keep watch except for me.” He followed the ornate balcony along its broad curves. “And unless you ratted me out, they shouldn’t be expecting anyone.”

Mic gasped. “Hey, now that’s something I kept secret! I have standards . Not very respectable standards, but standards nonetheless.”

“Right - is that why you’re dating me?” Aizawa said in a smug tone.

Mic smirked. “Nope! You’re the wonderful, gorgeous exception~”

It was so easy to fall into banter when he was with the Voice Villain. Aizawa was tempted to stop and address the cheesy remark, but the sight of a shadowy figure stopped him from speaking. With a gesture behind his back, he motioned for Mic to follow close behind him.

Ahead of them was one of the many doors that led to the upper rooms. This one appeared to be housing whoever was running away from the speech downstairs. 

“Stop," He said, his voice low yet firm, "I don't know what you think you're doing, but it ends now." Aizawa reached into his coat pocket to pull out a small pocket knife. 

In a moment of unpreparedness, the villain stepped back and stumbled over their feet. Upon closer inspection, his appearance was mundane, save for bright golden pupils that were now wide with surprise. His mouth fell open, but no words followed.

Aizawa took a slow step towards the villain, reaching his hands under his shirt to pull at his capture scarf. “I want to hear what you have to say.” He took a step forward and the man fell back, looking up at him with the same blown out pupils. Aizawa didn’t relent. He grabbed the man by his lapel and pulled so they were face to face. “You better start explaining yourself. Quickly.”

Mic was thrown off. Aizawa never acted like this towards him - even when he caused problems. Was this how heroes usually acted towards villains? Aggressive and cold? He hid behind the slightly open door. It was surreal to see his Aizawa apprehending someone so … forcefully. 

Hizashi stood frozen behind the door as the villain moved so quickly his brain could hardly keep up. They began to tussle, and Aizawa was thrown onto the ground.

Aizawa felt his own knife turned against his throat. The bobbing of his Adam's apple sent a small stream of blood trickling down his exposed neck. 

“Still feeling cocky, Hero?” The unknown man pressed him down, his knee against the Erasure Hero’s sternum. Aizawa was immobile. It wasn’t uncommon for him to be in this position, but usually he already had his capture scarf out to help. His voice came out a strangled yelp. “Mic-”

The villain pressed harder. He could tell their intent was to draw more blood. There was no way this was going to be his end! His heart raced and he held his breath, preparing to break out of the hold. 

With a swift maneuver of his arm, Aizawa was able to reverse the hold and pin the villain to the floor, their arm behind their back. “Mic!” he shouted. The villain yelped beneath him and squirmed, which made pinning them difficult. Aizawa activated his quirk, his eyes flashing a deep crimson. “Start explaining yourself or I won’t hold back.” 

“As if I would tell you anything! You’re better off leaving, unless you want to be in the news as a casualty!”

“How do you expect to win when I have you restrained?” A drop of sweat made the side of his face tickle. Why wouldn’t this guy stop moving?

“You’re wasting your time with me.” 

Aizawa narrowed his eyes. “Wasting time?” His stomach dropped. “Tell me who else is here.”

The villain became unresponsive - silent, save for the occasional snicker.

It was pointless to keep fooling with them when there was likely a bigger threat. With swift and practiced movements, Aizawa restrained them with the quirk cancelling cuffs he kept on hand. He sent a swift hit to the villain’s neck with the back of his hand. The golden-eyed man fell unconscious and Aizawa maneuvered him into the corner of the room. He pulled out a second pair of quirk cancelling handcuffs from inside the seams of his jacket and cuffed his leg to the nearest door.

Once the perpetrator was handled, Aizawa was able to get his bearings. He closed his eyes and felt how they burned against his eyelids. His hair fell limp against his shoulders.

Hizashi had stood to the side the entire time, wide-eyed, with his lip held between his teeth.

“What the fuck? Didn’t you see me struggling?”

Hizashi looked as surprised as he had felt, his arms held forward with a defeated sense of hopelessness. “I’m sorry! I- I panicked!” His eyebrows were knitted together in worry. “I’m so sorry!”

Aizawa brushed himself off and wiped at the small trickle of blood on his neck. “You’ve gotta stay alert. These people won’t wait for you to react.” He buried his hand in a handkerchief that was quickly stained red.

“You’re hurt.” In an instant, Hizashi was looking him over. “It’s my fault. I’m sorry Shouta.” He sounded disappointed. “If I had just reacted faster, you wouldn’t- He wouldn't've-! I can’t believe I froze up like that! I feel so stupid! I-!”
“It’s okay. We just need to focus on finding who this guy was looking out for, and what other villains there could be.” He stuffed the dirty handkerchief into his pocket and rubbed at his eyes. It was easy to forget how long he’d been using his quirk until the pain that followed. He took out his eye drops and Mic perked up.

“I can do that for you.”

“It’s easier to handle it myself.” He ran through the process quickly and without hesitation. He was used to it. Now that that had been handled, he began inspecting the room for anything out of place. 

It was ornate and glamorous for its small size and, even in the dark, Aizawa could make out the shiny, golden details of portraits and mirrors that hung from the intricate wallpaper. 

The furnishings weren’t to his taste - something plain could be just as comfortable, and certainly more ergonomic, than a loveseat with no arm rests - but he imagined it might’ve appealed to someone like Hizashi. If he’d had the money, the blond would be flaunting it.

If they ever moved in together, would Hizashi try to change things up? Maybe Shouta’s furniture was too boring for his taste. Would Hizashi crave something more in style? He found it hard to visualize Hizashi comfortably sleeping with him on his old futon. It wouldn't be too crazy to assume the other man would try to breathe some new life into his home. That might be nice…

He thought about other ways living together could change their relationship. Was Hizashi a morning or a night person? Would their schedules match up? Did they like the same kinds of food? Any allergies? Was he a heavy sleeper? Did he snore? Would Sprinkles get along with Kiki?

Mic’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Hey, look here!”

Aizawa flushed. He hadn’t even realized how rambling and sentimental his thoughts had become… Maybe it was a side-effect from feeling like he was about to kick the bucket. He’d been staring at a mostly empty table while his brain had mocked him. This was no time to get lost in daydreams, especially after ragging on Hizashi for not being focused. “What is it?” He stepped over to find Hizashi digging through an innocuous looking drawer.

“This thing is filled with a ton of different hero profiles! And see here...” Hizashi tapped a finger against one of the pieces of paper. “They’ve marked every hero invited to this dumb party! It’s like they’ve taken out hits on every single one!”

Aizawa inspected the papers and his mind raced. There were financial records and schematics mixed in with the heroes marked down. Mic had a point: it looked like some sort of hitman  transaction, but something seemed off. 

How could anyone afford to take a hit out on all these top heroes? And if they’d already spent this much money, then why were these heroes not yet dead? Aizawa narrowed his eyes at the incriminating documents. “No, they aren’t hiring assassins. They ARE the assassins. All these people got on someone’s bad side, and they’re supposed to pay for it tonight.” He turned to Mic and grimaced. “Everyone here is in danger.”

Mic shivered. “You mean they might just start letting bullets loose on all of us? I’m way too young to end up like that!”

Aizawa shovelled papers into his pockets and grabbed Mic’s hand as he sprinted out the room. “We need to warn the host! We need to evacuate everyone immediately . Call the police. Naomasa isn’t stationed too far away - he should be here within ten minutes.” 

Mic felt his heart race in his chest, and it wasn’t just because Eraserhead was holding his hand. “Wait! Slow down! I thought this was an undercover mission! What if they hear them coming and decide to blow this whole mansion to bits?” He was running out of breath, but Aizawa didn’t stop pulling him along. “We could seriously die!” Tears sprung to his eyes against his will. “ I love you too much for this to be our last night together!” His hands sprung to his mouth before he could process the utter sincerity in his statement.

Aizawa turned to him in unconcealed shock. “Hizashi-“

The floor rumbled beneath their feet, knocking Aizawa into the Voice Villain’s arms. 

“Wha-?” Aizawa pulled Hizashi away from the banister to prevent them from toppling right over the side in their confusion - and lack of footing. They were too late, and now someone was going to get hurt.

Hizashi stood, mortified. “They really are gonna bomb this place!” His hands balled up in the back of Aizawa’s expensive dress jacket. 

Aizawa went to retrieve the man they’d knocked unconscious, he may be a villain but if this place was under fire he didn’t want him getting crushed by falling debris. His eyes darted to where he’d left him but the only thing left were the cuffs. He grabbed them from the door. “Dammit.” 

Mic was following close behind him, looking just as confused and disappointed as he felt. “What happened?”

Aizawa could hear shouts from the many guests. “No time to figure out, we have to check on the rest of the party.” He grabbed Hizashi by the waist and made a bee-line back to the stage. “Hold tight.” It was the only warning he gave before pulling out his capture scarf and wrapping it around the banister. Hizashi wrapped his arms around Shouta’s mid-section and buried his face into the other man’s chest as they swung down. They landed in a relatively empty area, good for not rousing suspicion.

The stage was still very much surrounded, but the woman who’d been pressed up against the microphone earlier now stood to the side, while a giant golden statue was lifted from a small elevator shaft below the wooden stage. That must have been the source of the shaking from earlier. 

The many celebrities, heroes, and wealthy individuals clapped. Perhaps the screaming from earlier was from mere excitement, but then what had the golden-eyed villain been talking about?

“It is my greatest honor to present our Company President!” She gestured to the golden figure. It was a curious sight: the thing looked completely solid. It must have cost them a fortune to construct. The amount of detail put into the clothes and face was exquisite and so lifelike, as if… Had it been made from a mold? 

“Now that’s glamorous…” Hizashi’s eyes lit up like two little emeralds. The horror from earlier was momentarily replaced by an impressed look. However, his hands still held Aizawa tightly, like he was too afraid to let go. It almost reminded him of a child, scared to lose their parent in a shopping mall. 

“It won’t be glamorous if this place doesn’t last…” Aizawa didn’t comment or ask Hizashi to let go - it was comforting in all the panic. 

Hizashi turned to him suddenly. “I’m…” 

Aizawa looked him in the eyes. “I know.” He knew what Hizashi meant. The sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach was telling him the same thing. 

He was afraid, too.

Afraid for Hizashi’s life, afraid for the heroes’ lives, afraid for his own.

Hizashi swallowed. “Let’s leave! We need to leave.”

Aizawa gave him a disappointed grimace. “We can’t.” 

“And why not?” Mic’s words stung like no other wound. 

“ Because that’s not what heroes do, Hizashi.” He said, voice clipped as he tore his gaze away from Hizashi’s. “We don’t get to bail out when things are dangerous.” He gritted his teeth. Of course Mic wouldn’t understand. He froze earlier and still seemed shaken up, and it's hardly as if his petty villainy could compare to a dangerous undercover mission. “You don’t get it. Being a hero isn’t just about running around and making up personas.” He pushed Hizashi out of his arms. “It’s about having courage…” Aizawa had seen Mic be brave before, why was he freezing now?

The look in the Voice Villain’s eyes made him instantly regret what he’d said. It wasn’t just pain - it was understanding. It was agreement. It was heartbreak.

Aizawa was right. He was cowardly, and selfish. He was willing to let these innocent people die because things were getting intense. But it wasn’t just him in danger this time, it was Shouta... He was a selfish man at heart, he loved obsessively and only wanted to protect the things he cared about.

No matter how many times they’d had this conversation he always came to the same conclusion. He wasn’t a hero. He could never be one. 

Hizashi felt more tears well up along his bottom lashes. He steeled himself before turning.  “You’re right. I’m not a hero.”

Aizawa watched as Mic pushed past him and out of sight within the crowd. It hurt. What he’d said had hurt Hizashi too. “Wait!” His voice didn’t carry over the excited speaker’s cheering. Fuck.

“Please hold your excitement, my lovely little guests!” The woman on stage made a grand gesture to her audience. “What we have planned in store for you is just as exciting!”

The lights went dark and Aizawa’s blood ran cold. A spotlight shone on the back wall and travelled towards the woman, who was now accompanied by a guest. She must have dragged the other lady on stage when no one could see.

“Now, everyone. I’d like to start the main act of the evening.” She slid one of her mid-arm length gloves off and placed a dainty hand on the surprised woman’s shoulder. “We’re so lucky to have such famous attendees! You’ve all sure made your mark, and that’s why you deserve to be here!”

The anxious looking woman let out a scream of pain, and Aizawa instantly moved. Just what the hell was this sick show?

“It’s time to really have some fun!” The blonde announcer didn’t pause her speech. “You’ve all been dears.”  She said with a lilt in her smooth voice. As Aizawa grew closer, he could see where she’d laid her bare hand on the other woman’s shoulder. It was… glimmering . It was glimmering like it wasn’t made out of flesh anymore. 

Like she was turning into a statue.

Her anguished cries told him it wasn’t just her appearance that was changing.

“ Enough! ” Aizawa propelled himself onto the stage and tackled the blonde woman to the floor. He activated his quirk to avoid winding up like the company president. 

The woman who’d been tortured fell to her knees and sobbed, grabbing her wounded, solid shoulder. “It hurts.” The people in the crowd who’d seen this shot out of their seats, trampling over one another to reach the doors.
Aizawa could help the wounded hero later. Right now, he needed to focus on the enemy. “Who are you?”

The woman grinned and methodically removed her other glove. “A more interesting question is who are you , and why are you interrupting me?” Aizawa didn’t react. Her smile soured. “Heroes never have any manners… Who could’ve raised such a rude little boy? My name is Midas, and you’re going to be sorry for that pathetic little stunt.” She raised a manicured hand and grabbed a nearby microphone. From above, spotlights were turned on him, causing temporary blindness, he shielded himself with his forearm and blinked away the lingering lights that tracked across his eyelids. 

Once he was able to focus again he saw that her microphone had stiffened into the same, solid gold material that had made up the unveiled statue. “If you aren’t going to cooperate, I’m going to turn you into my prize!” Her eyes were sharp and reminiscent of the man Aizawa had already apprehended. They must’ve been related. 

The mansions sprinkler system went off and his hair began to stick to his forehead. Just great , more unnecessary obstacles.

“Everyone’s already seen through your scheme. Let these people go safely and I might not break your arms before you’re locked up.” He reached for the knife hidden under his shirt. “Open the doors and cooperate.” Water ran down his damp cheeks.

She turned her nose up at his display. “You really are all the same: lousy and ill mannered.” Without any more warning, she lunged, immediately going for his throat. Aizawa quickly activated his quirk and side-stepped her. He was thankful for his agility, because ending up a fat, bloated statue was no way to go. While she recovered, he pulled his knife free and began to swing. The spotlights made it hard to focus as they swung around the room.

Midas was more adept at close range combat than he’d first thought, but with a quirk like hers he supposed she needed to be good at dealing with things hands on. 

He kept her from getting any solid hits in, while he landed a few good punches when she wasn’t ready for the next swing. He generally refrained from stabbing people unarmed, but the logical part of his brain warned him that one moment of unpreparedness would lead to a painful, glamorous death. 

She didn’t seem to tire, no matter how many times they exchanged blows. It was getting harder to find moments where he could blink and rest his eyes. 

“Give up, hero!” She didn’t look nearly as tired as Aizawa felt. “You’re only exhausting yourself. If you give up now, I just might let you live.” 

“Shut up!” Aizawa felt beads of sweat forming across his brow. Shit! At this rate she might just outlast him. 

Just when he thought she had him, he landed a blow to her chest, which sent her into the back wall. A spiderweb of cracks ran through the elegant brickwork, yet she was far from done. Her face was pained, but she quickly regained her former smug expression.

Midas reached for the crumbling wall behind her and pressed her palm flat against it. From her fingertips bloomed a thick, golden sheen. It looked like wallpaper, but Aizawa knew it was likely solid. The fact she was able to use her quirk so excessively, just to intimidate him spelled danger. Just how strong was she?

She lunged forward and he quickly side-stepped away from her outreached fingertips. Aizawa pulled out his capture scarf, but his attempts at wrapping her up were foiled by his impaired eyesight due to the swinging light fixtures.

He felt a sharp pain in his left side. Midas must’ve had more tricks up her sleeve. He threw a punch, but she used the pooling water to her advantage and slipped away. The miss left him open for a swift kick to the stomach.

Aizawa doubled over. The high heel she wore had slashed his side. His momentary stumble gave her enough time to get a hand around his throat. He tried to claw her away, but if he didn’t focus on erasing her quirk, he’d surely die. Midas pushed him to the ground. His knife clattered uselessly to the stage. He was losing air. His own capture weapon had become tangled around him in the squabble, binding him uselessly.

“So stupid,” she sneered. “You could’ve at least put up a better fight.”

His eyes watered from the pain of keeping them open for so long. The moment he failed to cancel her quirk, that same shiny glimmer would spread across his throat and kill him - if he didn’t suffocate first.

“You look so terrified! I can’t wait to see this expression forever.” She cooed.

Fuck. He’d really fucked up. He’d sent Hizashi away with his hurtful words, and now he’d severely underestimated the villain’s combat skills. Not only had he hurt the man he cared about, but he surely wouldn’t be struggling like this with the Voice Villain’s help. Fuck.

His lungs burned from a lack of air, his limbs were weak as he attempted to escape the vicious tangle of his own capture weapon. This couldn’t be it, Shouta had been in worse situation before, but now... He would never get to apologize… His vision blurred. Midas’ long blonde hair swept across her shoulders and tickled his face as she held him down.

Her long, golden hair mocked him as blood vessels burst in his stinging, desiccated eyes. His throat felt just as dry; scratching and stinging as Hizashi's name formed on his lips.

His legs were too tangled. The dull throbbing told him he might have done more harm than good in his struggle.

He already missed him. He already missed him so badly he could almost hear his voice… Hizashi. Hizashi was the only thing running through his head. Aizawa wished he’d-

“ GET OFF OF HIM! ”

One moment, Aizawa was standing on death's doorstep, and the next he was rolling over, coughing and heaving for precious air.

He took in a huge, stuttering breath. He filled his lungs with as much air as they could hold and when he had collected himself, he glanced upwards and saw what had happened.

It wasn’t a hallucination from the lack of oxygen. Hizashi had really come back, and from the looks of it he’d kicked Midas with enough force to knock her out against the wall. Her once menacing face was now serene, turned down towards the floor, while the rest of her body was completely limp.

“Hi-za-shi,” he said slowly, taking a breath between each syllable. Slowly asphyxiating was not an experience he ever wanted to relive.

Hizashi was at his side in a flash, helping him to his feet and wrapping an arm around his heaving chest. He let Aizawa lean against his side. “Shouta! I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have left! I-” He trembled. Aizawa could feel the Voice Villain’s heart hammering against his chest. “Are you okay? Are you bleeding? I can get-”
Aizawa cut him off with the gentle brush of their lips.

Hizashi blushed, and it was the cutest thing Aizawa had ever seen. “Thank you … for coming back…” He held onto Hizashi like his life still depended on it. “I … don’t deserve you.”

Hizashi buried his hands in Aizawa’s hair, it had fallen out of the slicked style he wore earlier in the night. “Shouta…” He was at a loss for words. For once in his life, Hizashi Yamada had no idea what to say. “Let’s call the police.”

Aizawa nodded sluggishly against the taller man’s chest. He was putting a lot of weight on the other’s smaller frame, but it was hard to hold himself up completely. “Yeah.”

It hadn’t taken long for the police to arrive. They had only been five minutes away, just as Shouta had said. When they arrived, they took several people in for questioning, but Hizashi had fled before they’d got there - He’d taken it upon himself to help others evacuate and explain the situation to those who were still shaken up.

Aizawa, on the other hand, was forced to give details. It felt like hours of being checked over by EMTs and handing over the villains with bleeding ears. He had to give a full description of quirk details, names, times, events and locations. The police went over the documents with him and asked for a multitude of papers to be signed, to ensure he was also telling the truth. 

Naomasa was thorough, but thankful for his help. It seemed that Midas and the man from the upper floor were siblings who already had a case open in the police reports. They shared the same quirk, but the sister was extremely dangerous when it came to fighting. Once the details were settled, the two were put into quirk cancelling cuffs and taken away.

Aizawa had been honest about Mic’s cooperation, although he’d left out the part about him initially being there for more nefarious purposes. When all was said and done, the police continued to investigate the mansion, but Aizawa wasn’t needed anymore. He took a walk outside to get some fresh air.

A figure dressed in a slightly torn-up sequin suit was already waiting for him, their back turned towards him. “Knew I’d find you out here,” he called to Hizashi’s back, but the blond didn’t turn around.

The Voice Villain looked lost in thought, his head low and his eyes wistful as they stared out at the mostly hazy sky. The lights in Tokyo made it hard to see, but a few bright stars littered the skyline. “Hey.” He finally turned to speak to Aizawa head-on. “What’s the paramedics team say?”
Aizawa nodded his head. “Passable for the night, no need to go to the hospital. How are you?”

Mic gave a flippant wave of his hand. “Are you kidding? Those guys barely touched me.”

Aizawa was relieved at that. “Good, that’s good to hear..” He shifted from foot to foot anxiously. “Thank you for saving me.”

Hizashi laughed. “Of course! I mean, you save people all the time.” He put up his index finger and waved it around. “So I guess that means I’m one to an estimated thousands.”

Aizawa sighed. Even though he’d done something good, Mic was already trying to diminish his own accomplishments. “You didn’t just save anyone: you saved me . That lady was vicious. What you did was incredible.”

Hizashi scratched the back of his neck. “You’re flattering me.”
Aizawa came to stand beside him, his upper body leaning over the balcony railing. “I’m serious. Naomasa might just forget about your petty crimes for this… You-” He turned to Mic fully, eyes locked on his. “You’re a hero . What I said before isn’t true. I’m sorry.”

Hizashi’s eyes watered. “I wasn’t being reasonable back then. I was proving you right by wanting to run…” His hand snaked its way to Aizawa’s own, their fingers interlocking. “I might not be a total hero, but I couldn’t leave. I was so scared, but more than that I was scared about losing you…”

Aizawa moved in for another kiss, and this time Hizashi kissed him back. “I love you too.”

Hizashi’s cheeks flushed, crimson in the low-light of the balcony. “What?”

Aizawa smirked. “What you said before - before the fight. You said you loved me.” He smiled genuinely. “And I love you too.”

Hizashi hugged him gingerly, gentle as Shouta's muscles trembled with exhaustion. "Shouta," He breathed, his voice shaking.

Aizawa held the Voice Villain’s waist and kissed his cheek. “Maybe one more good deed and you’ll earn yourself that date.”
Hizashi spluttered. “Wh-? Weren’t you the one saying you can’t barter with romance?” He sighed unhappily. “Besides, I already gave back those dumb earrings and watches when the police got here…”

Aizawa chuckled deep from his chest. His boyfriend was too cute. “Isn’t that sweet.” His voice was still somewhat flat as he purred against Hizashi. “You’re my hero.”

Hizashi looked offended, but he couldn’t help but laugh along. “No! No, I’m the most wicked villain you’ve ever met!” He pinched Aizawa’s side playfully as the Erasure Hero pulled him in for more doting kisses. “It’s a farce! I’m really evil!” He struggled in Aizawa’s embrace. “I’m tricking you into falling in love with me!”

“Already worked.” He peppered Hizashi’s neck with kisses. “What’s your plan now? Bed me and kill me?” He whispered into the other man’s ear. “You think you’re good enough to die for?”

Hizashi seemed to short-circuit. “H-Hey, we haven’t even gone on a date yet!” His whole body was like jelly. Who would’ve thought Aizawa could be so teasing? “You’re despicable!”
Aizawa snorted with laughter. “Maybe we’re both villains.” Hizashi settled against his chest and he felt truly comfortable. Tonight had been a rollercoaster of emotions, but if it meant having Hizashi in his arms by the end, he’d go through it every night. 

“Dinner.” Hizashi turned his head questioningly. “You eat yet?” Aizawa hadn’t realized how hungry he was - being distracted by hero work had kept his mind off it.

Hizashi hummed. “Not yet. I was honestly just gonna go home and make some noodles…”

Aizawa turned them both so they were facing the mansion's doors. “C’mon, I’ll buy you something nice.” There had to be a pretty nice restaurant within walking distance. They might look strange in their get-up, but he wouldn’t mind the stares. 

Hizashi followed him. “Really? Right now? Yes!” His mouth was stuck in a goofy grin.

Aizawa smiled back at his boyfriend’s infectious, joyful aura. “It’s a date.”