Chapter Text
Aizawa’s phone rang once, a shrill noise in his ear, before he answered it. He recognised the number instantly. For safety, he never saved a name under the contacts. Being an underground hero meant dealing with a different breed of villains compared to those in the surface world. Those who scurried in the darkness of the city were far more ruthless than their sunny side cousins. So, to keep those he loved safe, they remained a series of numbers on his phone. He didn’t need the lives of those he cherished on his conscience if they were ever discovered to have any relation to him.
Not that it did any good to his student. Shinsou’s number flashed on the screen, but Aizawa knew he wouldn’t hear his student’s voice on the other end.
“Hello, Eraserhead.” The voice was feminine. Jovial. Gleeful.
“Let. Him. Go,” Aizawa snarled as he threw his capture weapon forward and swung with its momentum onto the next rooftop. The city passed him by in a blur.
It was a mistake. One stupid mistake. Shinsou had been shadowing him on patrol. It was supposed to be an easy night. And it was. They’d barely ran into anything substantial. A few petty thieves and a creep trying his best to flirt with a pair of girls who wanted nothing to do with him. Aizawa felt a warm swell of pride in his chest as Shinsou confidently intervened, using his quirk on the guy to walk himself home safely. Though, for the teenager himself, the night was, in his own words, a downright snooze.
One day he’d appreciate the calm nights, Aizawa told him as much, but he could understand the disappointment his student felt. After all, it’d taken him a year before he made it into the hero course. The highlights of heroism were exaggerated and sugar-coated, but to young, inexperienced heroes-in-training, they were what they sought after.
He doubted this was what Shinsou wanted.
“But Eraser, Mindjack and I were just getting to know each other. And besides, it’s late. I can’t send the kid home at this hour. What if something bad were to happen to him?” The villain taunted.
Aizawa bit down on a reply as he flew across another rooftop.
“What if I sent him home alone and a villain grabbed him? What if they beat him within an inch of his life all in the name of payback? I’d feel so guilty, Eraserhead. I couldn’t do that to the poor boy.”
His jaw ached as he grinded his teeth. It was exactly what Aizawa had done. He’d failed to follow his own teaching. A lesson he drilled so hard into the minds of his students they groaned each time he said it. Comfort bred vulnerability. Whether they were adorned in their hero costumes or their civilian clothes, a hero should be on constant alert. The battle wasn’t over until their last breath. The moment you put down your guard was an opportunity for a villain to attack.
The night had dulled him into a false sense of security. He needed to file some reports down at the police station, and while it was an important part of hero work, he also knew Shinsou was a notorious insomniac, and Aizawa wasn’t willing to keep the kid up too late while he still had school the next day. He sent Shinsou home with nothing more than a promise to text him once he arrived at the dorms. It should have only taken him fifteen minutes to return to the dorms after catching the train.
When forty minutes passed without a single text or call, Aizawa knew something was wrong.
“What did I do?” Aizawa asked. He knew this couldn’t be a random encounter. There was no indication that Shinsou had any connection to Eraserhead. A random thug wouldn’t know that Shinsou was his protégé. Not unless they’d been stalking them. And if they were, then there was only one reason to attack Shinsou instead of him. Revenge.
If he could just keep them talking, he had time to reach Shinsou. The kid’s location recalculated as he sped towards it. He was getting closer. Half a mile. He just needed Shinsou to hold on.
“My father died the day you arrested him.”
He knew the moment her words echoed through the speaker. The incident was fresh in his mind. It had taken place over four months ago now, but it never felt old when someone’s life slipped beneath his hands.
“Okada.”
“Oh, so you remember him?”
It was a small drug ring he’d busted. One of thousands he put an end to. It was unremarkable. Until it wasn’t. Okada was a small-time thug, not even the boss of the drug ring. He became hysterical during his arrest, but before the quirk cuffs could be placed on him, he activated his quirk. It was a plant based one. A thousand needle-like thorns ripped through police, heroes, and villains alike. It was a bloodbath. Aizawa heard the commotion as he helped the other villains into the back of police vans, but before he could even reach Okada to nullify his quirk, another thug panicked and used their electricity quirk on him. Okada died of a heart attack in the ambulance.
“It was a mistake on my part,” Aizawa said, shortly, “One my student had nothing to do with.”
“I know, but you were the Pro Hero on scene. You heroes love to sprout shit about always saving lives, but you failed that day and my father paid for it,” The villain’s tone shifted, their jovialness from earlier gone from their voice. “And you’ll fail tonight.”
“Don’t,” Aizawa growled, “you want revenge? Then let me swap with Mindjack. I’ll come willingly.”
“No,” The villain said.
Aizawa knew the reason. It was one all heroes dreaded. It was something they hoped would never happen. It was the reason underground heroes were unknown. It was common knowledge that underground heroes vanished all the time. His old mentor told him it was an occupational hazard, when he took his first step into a dark alley, his capture weapon feeling too tight around his neck. One day he was going to die in one, and it was accepted. And sometimes their loved ones joined them. Aizawa refused to accept that.
It was one of the reasons he initially refused to become a teacher at U.A. All it would take is one false move, one clever villain and he could lose every student in his care.
“Would you like to talk to him?” The villain asked. “One last word of false hope for your student before he dies. Don’t say I wasn’t kind, Eraser. Here you go.”
He heard the shuffle of the phone as it moved, and then the laboured, pained breaths of his student.
“Mindjack.”
His student grunted in reply. The villain had gagged him.
“Do whatever it takes to escape. Use all the training I’ve instilled in you until I arrive. I’m almost there.” Aizawa controlled his breathing and the way his throat bobbed. He kept the wobble out from his voice. Deep down he could feel the panic threatening to override him, but years of being a pro meant learning how to shove it down until the adrenaline came crashing down, and then shoving it down even further. “You’re going to be okay.”
Shinsou made a confirming noise on the other side. Aizawa could hear the tremor in it.
“I thought you valued logic above all else, Eraser? Didn’t think you were one to lie to a kid.”
“I’m coming for him,” Aizawa seethed, “and then you.”
“I’m counting on it. I want to see the look on your face when you’re too late,” the villain said. “I’ll leave you to it. Don’t want to get too close to the fireworks. And I’ll even let the kid stay on the line with you before he dies because I’m that nice.”
“Why don’t you fuck off?” Shinsou snapped once he was free of the gag. It was followed by the sound of a slap.
“He has quite a mouth on him, doesn’t he? A pity you didn’t teach him any manners.”
Aizawa glanced down at his phone. Shinsou’s locator was getting closer and closer, and yet it seemed to not move at the same time. He could feel the strain in his legs as he willed them to move faster. His chest heaved as he fought for another mouthful of air. His body was tired after a full night of patrol and the lessons he’d pushed his class through, but his mind was sharp with worry. He pushed on.
“I wish you luck, Eraserhead. I really do hope you get here in time. He’s a good kid. He’ll be one hell of an underground hero,” The villain said, “and he’ll die like one too.”
The sound of the phone being tossed clattered in Aizawa’s ear. And then he heard a door being closed and locked. The villain had left.
“Mindjack, can you hear me?” Aizawa called out to his student, trying to ignore the alarm bells ringing in his head. The villain had left, but it didn’t mean Shinsou was no longer in danger. The threat to his life was still there.
“Gimme a second, Eraser.” A strained grunt echoed through the speaker before he heard a scraping sound, like a shoe dragging across concrete. “Got it!”
“Guess I really am a part of your hell class now, huh Sensei? Getting kidnapped and all that,” Shinsou’s deep voice was wrecked as though he’d been screaming as he brought the phone to his ear. Aizawa pushed down the thought of throttling the villain as soon as he had the chance.
“Status report.”
“I think every part of me is fucked up,” Shinsou groaned through a forced laugh.
“Mindjack.”
“I think she broke some ribs. My nose doesn’t feel right. The fingers on my right hand are broken. My ankle hurts too.”
“Can you get out?” Aizawa asked.
“I’m bolted to the floor,” Shinsou said, shaking the chain as if to clarify a point.
He almost missed the next rooftop as Shinsou’s breath shuddered in his ear, followed by an exasperated ‘fuck’.
“E-Eraser.” Shinsou’s voice cracked through the earpiece. Throughout the entire call, Shinsou’s voice had been steady, if a little tired sounding. Expected and accepted. But then, for that moment, he sounded small. So young.
And then, ever so faintly Aizawa heard it in the background of the call. A rhythmic beeping sound. A countdown.
“Keep calm.” Aizawa looked down at the location on his phone, Shinsou’s marker flashing on the screen. He was only a block away. “I’m almost there.”
“Hurry.”