Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“You will join us Persuasion, it’s only a matter of time!” The tall dark themed villain, henceforth to be referred to solely as Edgelord, spreads their arms wide. “Even as we speak, my minions are combing through your files for the names of your loved ones!”

“Is that so?” Hitoshi smirks inwardly before looking off into the distance. “I’ve always wanted to be a hero...”
He intones the words gravely relishing in how the villains hang on his every word. “And I knew this might happen someday...”
He looks up then and flashes his teeth. “Would you like to know where I’ve hidden their bodies?”

“How dare you!” A lackey from the back of the room shouts, making to step forward. Edgelord snaps out their arm to stop him and immediately strikes a new pose.

Hitoshi subtly takes control of his new puppet lackey.

“I’ll excuse your disrespect this time Persuasion but my patience will not last! Your only hope to get out of here is to agree to my demands!”

Edgelord dissolves into maniacal laughter and Hitoshi focuses on testing his chains. Hm. Not much give and the old-school padlock on the back is too far for him to pick. Damn. A whole day's salary on upgrading his gloves to the new lockpick nail-extensions - the patented LPNEG support gear for underground heroes - and he can’t even use it. Truly, a fate worse than death.

He’s just about to fuck subtlety and use Puppet Lackey to attack Edgelord when the door is suddenly kicked in, falling clean of the frame to crash onto the floor with a thud.

Smoke billows around the approaching figure and all Hitoshi can see is a shrouded form and a custom black medical mask with an eerie grin stitched on.

“You disappoint me Yashi. I thought we had a deal.”

Edgelord takes a step back. “S-Smiles! I-I can explain!”

“Can you?” The figure steps forward and the smoke moves with them, spreading and pooling to reveal more features.

A black dress shirt with a hooded sweater vest on top. Sunglasses over the eyes, hood covering most of the face, and that freaky face mask; it all combines to form a single picture.
Smiles, the info broker.

Fuck.
If there’s anyone that could have found something on Hitoshi’s family it would be Smiles.

“This isn’t what it looks like!” Edgelord shrieks, stepping in front of Hitoshi as if to hide his bruised face from view.

And that. Doesn’t make sense.
Hitoshi raises an eyebrow, ignoring the twinge of pain as it pulls on his swollen cheek. Edgelord actually looks more afraid of Smiles than Hitoshi is.

“Well, why don’t I tell you what it looks like and you can correct me if I’m wrong, hm? Because what it looks like, is that you signed my terms to gain access to the bank logs and then you tried to stab me in the back.” Smiles’ aura burns dark with a promise of violence. “And you know what I do to contract breakers…”

He lets the threat hang and Hitoshi can see Edgelord start to shake when Smiles claps his hands together suddenly. “Of course this might all just be a misunderstanding. You wouldn’t be the first to simply not read what you’d signed.”

Edgelord starts nodding energetically and Smiles holds up a hand. “That is of course no excuse for betrayal but I’m willing to let it slide so long as we go over it again and add some clauses for reparation purposes. Breaking into your hideout today was very stressful, you know so I’ll need to be compensated for wasting my time.”

“B-But what about-”

“Leave Persuasion as he is for now.” Smiles gestures vaguely at Puppet Lackey. “Dagger will be more than enough to guard him for you while we iron out the details…”

Edgelord and his other minions immediately head for the staircase in the back of the room and for a moment Smiles alone is left facing Hitoshi.

It’s impossible to tell for sure because the broker is wearing sunglasses but Hitoshi almost gets the feeling that the other has just winked at him.

Then Smiles turns to follow the rest and Hitoshi and Puppet Lackey are alone.

***

Hitoshi had always wanted to be a hero.

He’d never thought it would end up like this.

After his first sports festival where he was the underdog from gen ed that absolutely dominated, Aizawa-sensei - freaking Eraserhead!!! - had taken Hitoshi under his wing as a personal protege. And what that meant was that aside from the quirk training and capture weapon training and hand-to-hand combat training, the most important lesson Aizawa had imparted was this: ”Quirks like ours are rare and coveted by villains. That’s why it is important for heroes like us not to exist. We lead separate lives as hero and civilian. We wipe all traces of ourselves from the media, not only for our quirks to be more effective in the field, but to keep us from becoming targets. We do not form attachments, we do not dress like heroes, and we focus on saving from the shadows. That is what it means to be Underground.”

It had made sense to Hitoshi at the time. Aizawa-sensei was the only hero teaching at UA that went by their civilian name after all and the moniker Eraserhead was only known because of paperwork and signatures and not because of action footage or promo shots or merch. Hitoshi himself had only learnt the hero name when they had started training together since he couldn’t call him Aizawa while on patrol.
As far as Hitoshi knows there might still be some UA kids that don’t know what a badass the scruffy man is and just how cultivated his harmless and lazy air actually is.

Hitoshi had of course agreed with stars in his eyes and hope in his heart and even as he was barred from participating in future sports festivals - even as footage of his epic win was pulled- even as the name Shinsou Hitoshi was separated from the hero student Persuasion with a mind control quirk- Hitoshi had kept his eye on the prize.

Saving people would always be more important than respect and recognition.

And for the first few years everything had gone well. Persuasion was a rising star doing the work that mattered and making the streets safe.
But then, people had started to talk.

***

Hitoshi sighs and rubs the feeling back into his wrists. This whole thing strikes him as weird. Smiles showing up right then, Edgelord acting like he needed to hide the fact Persuasion was tied up from said info broker, the fact that Hitoshi knows Smiles would have the info Edgelord wanted from him and yet the villain hadn’t even asked… It’s strange.

Hitoshi stretches languidly and gets to his feet. That’s a problem for another time. For now Edgelord and Smiles both are out of Hitoshi’s reach but Puppet Lackey - apparently the villain known as Dagger - is ripe for the taking.

So Hitoshi does.

***

It’s a couple days later that he can finally arrange a meet with Aizawa no-longer-sensei for a chat about it all.

His mentor listens quietly before blowing out a harsh breath and glaring into his ever present coffee mug. “Smiles huh? It should be fine…”

Hitoshi starts to splutter at the man’s lackadaisical attitude but Aizawa holds up a hand. “Listen. You didn’t hear this from me. But most undergrounds tend to ignore Smiles and the man does the same to them. He’s got the most extensive network when it comes to anything heroes and that includes us. Weaknesses, aliases, real names, families, Smiles probably knows it all.” His mug hits the counter hard enough for coffee to slosh over the lip and onto Aizawa’s fingers. The man doesn’t blink. “The info he’s got, we should all be dead.”
He stares Hitoshi down, in the ‘this is a teaching moment’ way and Hitoshi startles.

“So why aren’t we?”

“Why indeed.”

Silence falls as both heroes stare into the depths of their dark drinks as if searching for the secrets to the universe.
Aizawa is the one to break the silence. “No one knows exactly what his deal is or why he’s keeping what he knows to himself. Don't get me wrong, Smiles has sold out plenty of heroes and definitely plays both sides of the law. Nothing that’s resulted in deaths though or we’d never be able to write him off as harmless. He helps plan heists and coordinates them for gaps in patrols. He’ll sell a hero’s weakness if it suits him but then warn the hero that he did it. It’s all very... “ Aizawa waves his hand slightly. “iffy. People don’t like that he has the info but we can’t deny that pissing him off by trying to take him down would be too reckless. And then of course there’s the fact that it’s different with us Undergrounds… far as I know he’s only ever sold secrets about heroes that wound up being discovered as corrupt. Those of us that he deems ‘the good ones’ well…” Aizawa takes a deep swig of his coffee and Hitoshi knows it’s just a stall so he can sweep the break room for listening ears even though they’d both checked for bugs before this conversation began. Even so his voice lowers impossibly further. “I get info on cases that no one even knows I’m running. Packets just show up on my doorstep.”

Hitoshi's eyes widen. “That’s. That’s insane!”

Aizawa hums. “I prefer to think of it as a compliment.” and then the hero is leaning forward more serious than Hitoshi has ever seen him. “I’ll tell you what I’ve never heard of though. Smiles showing up on scene just because a ‘good’ hero was captured…”

Hitoshi freezes as Aizawa leans back once more. “...but just what that means for you, I guess only time will tell.”

***

It’s fucking raining.

Hitoshi hates patrolling in the rain.

No hero enjoys it - except maybe Ms. Joke if only for the fresh material for her god awful sense of humor - but Hitoshi especially finds it to be hell. His quirk doesn’t exactly help in a fast paced fight and while relying on his agility, sneak attacks and capture scarf usually work for him, in the rain that’s a whole other story. The scarf is slippery when wet meaning half of his most impressive stunts are out and while his shoes have special soles and tips for climbing walls they too are not as effective when wet.

All of that culminates in the situation Hitoshi finds himself in.

“Come come Persuasion I’m not a betting man but the odds are not in your favor.”

The man roars with laughter at his own joke and Hitoshi grimaces.

He doesn’t need to count and start categorizing his foes by threat level to know he’s fucked. His wet hair sticks to his face, and he quickly swipes it away with a gloved hand, hastily tying it back with his capture weapon. The thing is basically useless now anyway and his hair is longer than he’d realized when it isn’t defying gravity like usual. He can always cut the piece off with his knife if he needs to restrain anyone but he’s not going to shatter the current peace by drawing his secret weapon from its forearm sheath.

Speaking of the peace, the villains remain in the half-circle that keeps him trapped against the wall but they aren’t moving forward to attack and Hitoshi hisses a curse between his teeth.

There’s only one reason they’d hold back in the pouring rain while he dealt with his bad hair day.

A sales pitch.

Fucking great.

After all that trouble of wiping his records - most notably his kickass Sports Fest - he’d expected that his biggest struggle would be contending with people that had figured out his quirk. Not fucking sales pitches from every villain on the streets that thinks he’d be a quick sell.
Fucking no thank you.
The ‘charming’ talks are almost worse than the ones that threaten to find the people he cares about to force him into it.
They usually shut up when Hitoshi retaliates that he doesn’t have any. Though there was that one guy that got all emotional and offered a truce to go drinking on the weekends. So that was fun.

“...us by your side no one would dare to think of you as…”

Oh right. Sales pitch. Hitoshi should probably be using this time to either pay attention or plan a sneak attack but this goddam rain smacking repeatedly on the top of his head and dripping into his eyes is really starting to piss him off.

“Listen.” He interjects when the soggy feeling takes over his entire shirt and starts spreading to his pants. “Can we just. Cut to the chase? I know catching a fever immediately after being out in the rain is just a myth but let’s not take any chances, you know? You want me, I decline, you claim I’m playing hard to get, I punch you in the face - such much fun stuff on the agenda so let's get to it, yeah?”

“You-!” an enraged thug shouts before being cut off by the boss man lifting a hand.

Hitoshi keeps hold of the response but doesn’t snare him with his quirk quite yet. There’s a limit to how long he can delay it but considering he’s outnumbered and these crooks know his hero name, tipping his hand too early will just result in his control being broken immediately and then he’ll be back to square one.

He needs to be smart about this.

“Is that your final answer then?” Bossman asks, looking remarkably disappointed for someone who must have known this wasn’t going to work.

Hitoshi doesn’t answer. He grabs control of Enraged Thug and slowly lifts a hand. “Start throwing trash cans.”

The effect is immediate. Enraged Thug tosses the nearest can at the heavens, full trash bags falling towards the ground like black and smelly raindrops and bursting on impact.

Hitoshi draws his weapon in the confusion, slamming the hilt into the nearest villain to knock them out.

Enraged Thug heaves another can and is tackled to the ground before he can grab a third. Hitoshi feels the connection snap but doesn’t slow, swiping at the next with a controlled desperation. Three have been incapacitated leaving only six in his way, more than he can currently handle but he only needs to stall till backup arrives.

He moves like Aizawa taught him, leaping and ducking and relying on his weighted shoes to attack with more than his fsts and knife. The weapon is a deterrent, almost a bluff since heroes keep their cuts too shallow to do much and the hilt slam is mostly effective with the element of surprise but it’ll work to keep the villains from rushing him and he can take them down one at a time if he’s fast enough.

He isn’t.

A levitation quirk grabs hold of one foot right as he was using it to pivot and Hitoshi hits the ground hard. His head knocks the pavement with enough force to make him see stars and his teeth clack together painfully on impact.

“Night night Hero.” A voice says as a boot looms into his spotty vision.

Hitoshi tries to move but the alley spins and his body slumps as darkness swirls behind his eyelids. At least he knows they won’t kill him... though he’ll probably be waking up tied to a chair again.
Serves him right for wanting an opportunity to test his LPNEG.

A commotion breaks out above him but the sound filters through as if from far away.

”Well well, what do we have here?”

“Smiles!”

“Shit no! We didn’t mean to-!”

Hitoshi succumbs.

When Hitoshi wakes it is slowly and to the feel of the cold ground pressing against one cheek while a gentle finger taps at the other one.

“Hey you ok?”

Hitoshi groans before finally managing to peel his eyes open. The sight that greets him is, in a word, green. Green hair in a neat French braid, green eyes sparkling brightly behind a pair of glasses, green umbrella held above them to combat the still pouring rain.

“Finally,” the man breathes, sounding immensely relieved. “You’ve been out for a while, I was about to call an ambulance…”

Hitoshi’s head aches as he sits up but he ignores it. He’s had worse getting pushed down the stairs in middle school, this is nothing. Though he’ll probably need to report and get checked out when his backup arrives.

He leans a hand against the wall to steady himself as he scans his surroundings and blinks. “This. Isn’t the alley I passed out in.”

His tone is bland as if he’s commenting on the weather and perhaps that’s why the man over him laughs.

The stranger then tilts his head to one side, rainwater sliding down his forehead at the motion. “Isn’t it?”

***

Hitoshi scrutinizes Midoriya closely. He hadn’t noticed before but now that those glasses are off there is something almost familiar about him. But he can’t place the resemblance and it’s driving him crazy.

“Here you go!” Midoriya says, placing a cup of steaming hot coffee before him and sliding his now dry glasses back on. “I-I’m pretty good at guessing preferences but if you don’t like it I can-“

Hitoshi tunes him out and reaches for the holy grail before him, ignoring the part of his brain yelling about it being sunrise and Hitoshi needing to sleep soon. The stuttering and air of nervousness hadn’t been present in the alley outside but that’s just making Midoriya seem even more familiar which is freaking weird.

He takes a careful sip and his eyes widen. Black. Extra coffee grounds. Half a sugar packet. Piping hot. If he didn’t know better he’d think he made this cup himself.

“-and n-now you’re just staring at me, I knew it, it’s terrible, I’ll m-make you a n-new one!”

“Marry me.” Hitoshi murmurs, cradling the gift of life between his hands and inhaling deeply.

Midoriya’s face turns bright red and the stuttering worsens while now accompanied by wildly waving arms. “Th-That’s not. Y-You’re just. I-I’m”

He covers his face with his hands and Hitoshi can’t stop the small smile that pulls at his lips. He feels weird dressed in the man’s backup sweater and spare pants that he keeps on hand for ‘clumsy moments’ but honestly he’s not in a rush to leave either. There’s something about this small library cafe that feels warm, inviting almost, and Hitoshi slowly sips his coffee. He could get used to this.

Midoriya finally calms down, enough to go open the front door, and immediately tired and shabby looking adults and some teens start wandering in.

Midoriya busies himself behind the counter, making various drinks and pastries before heading to the computer banks.

“How’s the job search going?” he asks a teenager in a rumpled suit as he hands over a coffee.

“Much better now that I’m only applying for remote work. You were right that it was the disparity between my face and actual age holding me back. I just have to finalize my portfolio and I should land something soon.” He takes a noisy sip from the coffee before startling. “Midoriya no. you’ve gotta stop giving me freebies, I’ll be on my feet soon.”

“Don’t worry about it Mogami-san. I’ll be more than happy to accept a donation once you’re rich and famous.”

The baby-faced Mogami laughs and Midoriya heads towards the next in line of what Hitoshi quickly grasps as regulars.

“Good morning Yukina," he greets a girl in a stained sweatshirt as he hands over a sweet bun. It isn’t chilly in the library, or even outside, but she keeps her hood up even as it drips rainwater into her eyes. “Having any trouble with the homeschooling site?”

Yukina takes the food with a thin hand that trembles slightly and cradles the bun to her chest. “Um. It’s ok.” she says softly. “I need to read some books from the list and write an essay but I don’t…”

“Well you’re in the right place for that,” Midoriya replies kindly. “Why don’t you focus on math and biology for now and I’ll prepare some recs for you to take out when you leave.“

Her thin fingers draw circles on the table as she ducks her head low. “Thank you Midoriya.”

“It’s my pleasure Yukina, I'm really proud of you.”

Midoriya places a water bottle down and moves on.

Hitoshi finally tears his eyes away and focuses on returning the concerned messages from his colleagues. It’s starting to feel a little like he’s intruding.

Midoriya eventually returns from the rounds and informs Hitoshi that his clothes will be dry soon which is just as well since he’s being ordered to head back to the agency “right the fuck now and get checked for a concussion like a normal person you absolute moron”

Hitoshi taps out a quick “Love you too, waiting for my clothes to dry” with a winking cat face and then a winking kiss face just to piss Phantom Thief off.

When he looks up again Midoriya is at the library counter helping a boy with a library card application. He’s wearing a sweatshirt over what is obviously a UA uniform as if to hide it and his subdued posture reminds Hitoshi of himself back then in the worst possible way.

“Um I can’t find the place for quirks?" he fiddles with his gloves, eyes firmly at his feet, "I- my quirk is-“

Midoriya wags a finger at the kid playfully, ignoring how the overly dramatic motion sends his glasses sliding down his nose. “None of that. This is a library, not a bank. We don’t discriminate here.”

The kid blinks at him dumbfounded as if disbelieving and Midoriya waves a hand at the wall where a painted slogan hangs prominently.

~~Libraries Commit to Keeping Information Free for EVERYONE~~

Each letter of ‘EVERYONE’ is a different color and size and the kid swallows hard, staring Midoriya down as if looking for the catch.

Hitoshi drinks the last of his coffee thoughtfully as the kid’s shoulders finally ease. He’d thought it strange that Midoriya hadn’t asked about his quirk yet but had rationalized it as being because he’d found him in his hero costume and somehow recognized him. But maybe... Maybe Midoriya didn’t ask because it just doesn’t matter.

The kid hands over the forms and Midoriya adjusts his glasses as he starts typing things in.

Hitoshi can’t hold back a soft smile from tugging at his lips.

It’s a refreshing change from the rest of society.

And as he finally changes back into his clothes and heads out he turns back one last time to memorize the look of the building.

He’ll definitely be back again soon.

Chapter Text

Just one more hour.

Hitoshi extends his LPNEG and fits them easily into the padlock on the warehouse doors. He can still hear the sounds of fighting in the distance, the rival gangs duking it out over the territory dispute that Hitoshi may have maybe had a hand in inciting. It's fine though. This area is heavily patrolled by spotlight heroes and someone will definitely be by soon to deal with it. What’s important right now is that Hitoshi make ample use of his distraction to finally uncover what's really going on here.

The lock clicks open and Hitoshi grins. These gloves may have been useless during his many many kidnappings but they’re definitely worth every penny.

He makes his way inside, balancing his weight the way Aizawa taught him so many years ago so he doesn’t make a sound. It’s dark but he forgoes looking for a lightswitch which would obviously give him away and merely slips his new Sp-eyeglasses on. The lenses buffer, a gridlike pattern appearing before his eyes briefly before the night mode activates automatically. These were worth every penny too even with the two months he spent on the waitlist of heroes begging the higher ups for a pair. They’re expensive and rare, with a How To Manual the size of a dictionary– and losing a pair supposedly guarantees you a permanent spot on the unofficial blacklist for support gear reqs– but they’re a thing of beauty and right now they’re practically the MVP.

Hitoshi avoids the one member left behind to guard this place with ease, following along in his wake as the guy inadvertently leads Hitoshi right to the hidden storeroom and even keys in the passcode for him, what a nice guy.

Hitoshi taps the left side of his glasses once and the image on one side zooms in and records the man’s beefy fingers as they press each key. There’s a beep and the door slides open revealing a roomful of stacks upon stacks of crates. The guard nods once to himself, seemingly confirming that all is as it should be and Hitoshi has a choice to make.

He can wait till the guard leaves, slip inside, grab some samples, take some pictures and be gone before the next check in.

His lips curl back into what Monoma calls his devil’s smile.

Where’s the fun in that?

The guard hits the key to shut the door again and Hitoshi steps up behind him and taps his shoulder. “Knock knock!”

“Sonoffa–”

That’s as far as he gets before Hitoshi snags him with his quirk. The security control room is said to have a retina scan after all and the guard has been so helpful till now, he won’t mind helping out just a little more.

Hitoshi slides his finger along the left end of his glasses frames to play back the footage of the passcode. He’s just gotta check what’s in the crates real quick and then he can shut this place down till the cops arrive.

Heck he can even get started on the paperwork while he waits.

He glances at his watch as he makes his way inside.

Just forty more minutes to go.

***

“Shinsou!” Midoriya beams. His eyes are shining behind his glasses as he slides the usual coffee across the counter and closes his laptop in the same smooth motion. “What a nice surprise, I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

Hitoshi raises an eyebrow over the brim of his still hot mug which would very much beg to differ.

Midoriya laughs, “Well I mean yeah I was hoping but I wasn’t counting on it.”

Hitoshi can feel the flush rising up his cheeks at the implications. Does Midoriya really prepare a coffee for him every day just in case he decides to drop by? That’s so…

Midoriya turns around, busying himself with the usual preparations behind the cafe counter so he can ready everything before opening the front door and Hitoshi quickly rubs a hand over his cheeks to hopefully lessen his blush. Midoriya is too good to him.

He watches the usual crowd stream in, watches Midoriya pass out free food and drinks to the ones that need it, watches him waive a late return fee for a girl wearing sneakers literally taped together at the seams.

He watches and watches until his half serious thoughts about Midoriya possibly having a comfort food quirk– because let's face it, how else does he always know what to serve people– is replaced by a thoughtful frown taking up residence on his brow. Because Hitoshi has never run a library before obviously. But… this can’t possibly be sustainable. Rent and electricity alone are probably through the roof and this building has heating and internet access– both on the computers as well as free wifi for anyone in close enough proximity to the building to connect to it. He doesn’t charge for membership, doesn’t charge for food or use of the computers, doesn’t seem to charge for anything. How the fuck is this place still open? Even if he somehow owns the building and is getting funding from the government that can’t possibly be enough can it?

“I don’t take government funding,” Midoriya says softly, taking a slow sip from his own beverage and Hitoshi startles. He must be more tired than he thought he is if he’s already speaking out loud just to be able to focus his thoughts enough to puzzle something out to its conclusion.

He clears his throat and affects a casual tone to hopefully deflect from how Midoriya’s sudden appearance had rattled him, “Oh?”

Midoriya huffs, palms curling around his cup. “All the funding available was conditional, not a donation. I’d need to be closed on legal holidays, among other things, and I’d be subject to…” he frowns, staring glumly into his tea, “well let’s just say there were rules I would have needed to follow to be eligible and leave it at that.”

“I see…” and Hitoshi really does is the thing. He’s seen enough of the people that pass through here on his visits to get the picture. Midoriya’s library is open to everyone no matter what. Hitoshi has definitely seen certain patrons who bear striking resemblances to certain mug shots from certain low level thugs who have somehow evaded certain arrest.

Midoriya doesn’t seem to ask, doesn’t pry into any of their affairs, but Hitoshi almost gets the feeling that he knows if only for the way he hires some of them to help out around the library on the weekends. Not to mention the way he sometimes pulls up a chair and helps them fabricate resumes for legitimate job openings. And it’s not exactly illegal as long as he doesn’t really know that they’re criminals but… Hitoshi can imagine that it would be very different if this place were government affiliated. For one thing the security footage wouldn’t be classified as private sector anymore, not to mention that Midoriya might be required to put up a board for missing persons and wanted posters and… well. Hitoshi hasn’t said anything but he’d looked into the Yukina girl after that first meeting because she’d looked neglected and it had struck him as strange the way she’d sat there all day doing homeschooling that Midoriya had set up for her. He doesn't know where she’s been sleeping at night but she definitely hasn’t been home.

Hitoshi takes a slow breath in and slowly lets it out. “Well good for you,” he murmurs.

Is it technically illegal for him not to bust the place? Absolutely.

But Aizawa did say that Shinsou Hitoshi and Pro Hero Persuasion need to be treated like two different people. And well… Pro Hero Persuasion has never set foot in this building in his life.

***

“You’re smiling,” Phantom Thief says, eyes narrowing at Hitoshi from behind his own desk.

“Am I?” Hitoshi can feel his lips pull even wider at being reminded of why exactly he’s so happy. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Well knock it off!”

Hitoshi abandons his paperwork to face Monoma– purely Phantom Thief while in costume– head on. He tries to switch to a smirk but his lips refuse. “Oh? Is it bothering you?”

“It’s fucking creepy,” Phantom Thief sneers back, “no one’s this happy after pulling a double night shift and certainly not you!”

Hitoshi leans back in his seat, lifting the can of ice coffee Midoriya had gifted him to keep in his office fridge earlier and taking a long drink. He puts it back down with a satisfied smile. “Not my fault the coffee maker broke.”

Phantom Thief immediately explodes. “You knew, didn't you!? Somehow you knew and rather than warn me to bring my own you chose to only take care of yourself!! Selfish Bastard!! I ought to transfer to a different jurisdiction so I never have to see that creepy smile of yours again!!”

“Yeah?” Hitoshi laughs, entertained in spite of himself. He really hadn’t known about the coffee machine. Midoriya had somehow known he’d be up longer than usual and pressed it on him when he’d left the library– (some kind of precog quirk maybe? Would explain him knowing in advance when people will show up…)– but Phantom Thief doesn’t need to know that. He’d never really leave their partnership anyway. It’s an empty threat and they both know it. This office is the only one that works with Eraserhead after all and Phantom Thief can try to deny it all he wants but they both know they were only assigned as partners at all because they both kept volunteering to join said pro every time he called for backup. It was kind of ridiculous looking back on it.

“You should be ashamed of yourself,” Phantom Thief finally sniffs, turning away with a self righteous air. “Friends don’t let friends do paperwork without coffee.”

Hitoshi can’t stop his smile from flashing teeth as he lifts the can again in a mock toast. “Good thing we aren’t friends then.”

Phantom Thief falls back in his chair clutching his chest dramatically. “A hit!” he wails, “a palpable hit!”

Hitoshi rolls his eyes with an amused snort. “There’s a spare can in the fridge.”
He cuts off the incoming denial with a quick, “bottom shelf behind my moldy sandwich decoy.”

Phantom grabs the can with a sneer. “You. Are a menace.”

“Yup,” Hitoshi grins. And because he’s a menace he waits till Phantom is drinking to ask, “so should I ask him out?”

It’s a waste of a perfectly good coffee but so so worth it.

***

In the end Hitoshi can’t make it to the library again for the next week and it makes him surly and rude. Well, more so than usual anyway.

The coffee maker is still broken and Hitoshi has had to resort to buying a cup of the cheap stuff on his way off patrol while heading to the office, which of course makes him predictable enough for another dumbass to try and grab him.

Sucks to be the goon though because he’d startled Hitoshi enough to drop his newly acquired coffee before he’d even managed a single sip and thus the subsequent battle was less of an even fight and more of a brutal beatdown.

Has Hitoshi mentioned he’s in a mood?

When he gets his hands on whichever of the fucking baristas sold him out he’s gonna… huh. Write a strongly worded letter? There’s not much else he could do honestly since it’s technically his own fault for walking into establishments while still in what is obviously a hero costume– but what else was he supposed to do? Drop off his gear at the office and go back out in just his jumpsuit?

…okay yes that’s probably what he should have done. Damn it. Monoma will never let him live this down will he?

Hitoshi just really misses the cozy atmosphere of the library, okay?

And maybe…

Maybe he just misses Midoriya.

***

“Welcome back Shinsou! Been a while!”

It really has been a while. And yet when Midoriya closes his laptop to slip it back under the counter Hitoshi can see his usual steaming coffee waiting for him. That precog quirk is looking more and more likely by the minute.

Midoriya laughs sheepishly and rubs the back of his neck, one finger tapping against his laptop anxiously. “Your phone automatically joined the wifi network when you got in range so I knew you were here before you knocked on the backdoor.”

Hitoshi pauses, mug raised to his lips. “Oh? I didn’t know that was a thing you could get notifications for…”

And holy shit is it? Part of him is busy adjusting his quirk guess but the more sensible part of him is horrified. Has he unknowingly compromised his identity by bringing his phone with him on patrols? Maybe he should turn off wifi and bluetooth at all times just to be safe? Ah fuck he can’t even ask Aizawa because they really aren’t supposed to bring their personal phones with in case they get captured. And usually Hitoshi doesn’t! But sometimes he’s slated for an hours long stakeout and needs something mindless to play like Angry Cats or Mighty Run while waiting for the perps to show up and his hero phone requires tech support to install additional apps which means he’d need to look them in the eye and explain why exactly he needs games on a phone he only uses while on patrol, which let’s be real, is not going to happen.

“It’s definitely not standard,” Midoriya is saying now, stirring his tea vigorously as if he’s somehow nervous. “It’s just how I set up my system. I don’t think most places would have the capability or even the desire I just…” he trails off with a jerky shrug. “I don’t know. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Hitoshi eyes him closely. There’s something he isn’t saying. Then again Hitoshi has seen him bringing people inside to warm up on multiple occasions when the weather is cold. Did he set this up so he could tell when people are sitting outside to use the wifi? It’s a little weird but it’s Midoriya so it’s not like he’d be doing anything nefarious with it.

“I’m not creepy,” Midoriya blurts out of nowhere, sagging so far over the counter that his glasses slip down his nose. “I swear I’m not.”

Hitoshi raises an eyebrow. “I know that? But seriously if you wanted advance notice before I drop by you should just give me your number.”

Midoriya drops his tea.

Real smooth Hitoshi nice.

They clean up the spill together in silence before Midoriya starts his usual rounds leaving Hitoshi to thunk his head on the table in despair.

It’s only after he’s already left that he finds the napkin in his pocket, a phone number scrawled on it in green.

Hitoshi smiles and saves it to his phone immediately.

***

“Persuasion.”

“I didn’t do it!”

Aizawa raises an eyebrow at Hitoshi’s outburst and he immediately sinks back into his seat with an embarrassed groan.

“Not that your immediate reaction didn’t inspire confidence but is everything okay?”

Phantom Thief answers before Hitoshi can like the jerk he is.

“No! It isn’t! This fucker keeps smiling at his phone and it’s weirding me out!”

Aizawa’s lip twitches. “I see. Then I suppose you won’t mind if I take him off your hands tomorrow.”

Monoma is many things but somehow, arrogant in the face of Eraserhead, is not one of them.

The copycat hero drops to his knees, hands clasped over his head. “Please please take me with you.”

Aizawa snorts because not even he can keep a straight face at Phantom Thief’s antics. “Get me a coffee and you’re in.”

Phantom Thief practically leaps from the room and Hitoshi frowns. It's unlike Aizawa to use his position of authority to send them on errands like that– not since they became real heroes anyway. There must be something else going on for Aizawa to–

The door slams shut after Phantom Thief’s energetic exit and with two quick strides Aizawa checks that he’s really left before swiftly locking it.

Ah now it makes sense.

Hitoshi mentally prepares himself for the interrogation into who exactly he’s been texting and smiling at.

“I hear you received a pair of Sp-eyeglasses,” Aizawa says as soon as they’re alone.

“Yeah?” Hitoshi’s head tilts in confusion– and relief!– that this is what was so important. “I filled out the req forms and waited in line like everyone else.”

Aizawa sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Wait. Did you not–?”

Aizawa waves Hitoshi’s incredulity off and pulls out a familiar looking glasses case. “No, I got one. Almost two months to the day of my requesting a pair it showed up at my door.”

“Yeah, same. What’s the big–”

“Hitoshi the wait list for a pair of Sp-eyeglasses is five months long.”

Hitoshi blinks, almost more stunned at the fact Aizawa used his civilian name at the agency than at this revelation. Aizawa just keeps going.

“They make each pair individually to match both the costume as well as face size so they won’t fall off in battle. They have orders backlogged from all around the world. There’s a reason losing a pair ensures you’ll never own one again. It’s considered a disrespect to the time and energy invested.”

“I don’t understand. So we somehow skipped the line?”

“I wish it were that simple. I looked into it after hearing you got one too and it seems that not counting ours, other orders continued going out as usual during that time without any gap where ours would have been shipped. And it definitely wasn’t that they just managed to finish the orders early. The support engineer that makes them doesn't hire extra help because of the extensive vetting process that would be needed to ensure no one tampered with the hardware– either to get it to transmit location or have the feed accessible to outside parties. So basically, we don't know where our glasses even came from.”

“What do you mean? Are you saying they weren’t made by Shield? That makes no sense! The manual was the same, the operating system, the style, the packaging– everything matched!”

“I know,” and now Aizawa just looks tired, “but according to their system we never even joined the line let alone received our request. So if everything looks the same then that means someone else managed to replicate them exactly, probably by stealing a pair and reverse engineering them.”

“And what? Instead of doing anything bad with it they decided to make us some, but only after we filled out official request forms? What would be the point of that?”

“Think Hitoshi. Who do we know that’s morally gray enough to steal hero gear, that wouldn’t then turn around and sell the info to villains? Someone who’s been known to help the two of us specifically. Someone that is also known to always be wearing a form of glasses?”

“Wait. You don’t mean–”

Aizawa stiffens, abruptly turning to unlock the door before moving to Phantom Thief’s desk and busying himself with his phone.

Said hero kicks the door open not two seconds later, two large coffees in his hands. He hands one to Aizawa with a dramatic flourish and takes a long drink from the second with a self satisfied smirk.

Hitoshi is too stunned by the conversation’s end to even comment on the lack of drink for him.

Because if Aizawa is right then for some reason the pair of Sp-eyeglasses in his pocket came from none other than Smiles the Info Broker.

He barely gets any time to process the revelation before Aizawa gets down to business because apparently being a real pro means having an airtight reason for showing up at the agency unannounced– even while the actual reason is just getting your former student alone to drop a bombshell revelation on him before the coworker you’ve gotten to leave with a frankly seamless excuse returns.

Hitoshi aspires to reach that level of greatness one day.

Maybe he should get a student.

His mind immediately conjures up all the shit he got up to in the dorms and he winces. Yeah never mind.

He listens to the briefing, nodding in all the right places, taking the mentalist of mental notes and when Aizawa mentions that they’ll be heading out at 3am he finally perks up. Because special assignments from a senior hero overrule standard patrol routes. And what that means is that he won’t be clocking in at 8pm like usual, but at 2:30am for suitup and final debrief. And what that means is that he finally has time to visit Midoriya at an hour that isn’t Post Paperwork, Crack of Dawn, Hell!
He could even– maybe– if Midoriya wanted– take him out to dinner.

Let it not be said that Hitoshi doesn’t have his priorities in order.

He beats back a flush at Midoriya’s quick response offering they meet for takeout after the library closes through sheer willpower alone and checks his watch.

Just enough time for a quick nap.

***

Midoriya is signing for something when Hitoshi arrives. A typical grocery truck dropping off a typical food delivery and Hitoshi gets close just in time to watch Midoriya heft the large box into his arms and carry it inside easily.

It’s shocking enough that Hitoshi comes to a stop. Objectively he’d known Midoriya was strong– the man can push a cart of books around like it’s nobody’s business while putting returns back on the shelves– but it’s another thing entirely to see it like that. Midoriya is comfy sweaters, neat long hair braided, wide smiles, bright eyes behind black frames... It’s weird to think that if he ever rolled those sleeves up there’d be strong muscle on those arms. Weird but also–

“Shinsou!” Midoriya calls, happiness practically radiating from his smile. “Was beginning to wonder if you got lost!”

Hitoshi shakes his head, dislodging thoughts of strength quirks and muscles, and follows Midoriya inside with a smile of his own. One day he’ll get the courage to ask Midoriya about his quirk. One day when he can convince his stupid brain that there’s no way Midoriya would dump him because of a brainwashing quirk when his whole shtick is not caring about things like that.

One day.

Not today.

He hefts the takeout bag in his hand with as much cheer as he can manage and Midoriya beams, leading him to the now deserted tables and chairs where he’d set one up nicely with placemats and drinks.

“I figured no coffee today,” Midoriya says apologetically, “since you’ll probably be heading to bed after this. But there’s water– cold, hot and room temperature– and there’s ice and I’ve got juice and–” he devolves into mumbling, covering his face with his hands and Hitoshi snorts.

“Water’s fine.”

He doesn’t specify further, merely grins impishly and Midoriya shoots him a pout before pouring him a mix of all three with a flourish.

The action is so perfect, both in timing and execution that Hitoshi has to grab the glass immediately to cover the way his wide smile is starting to hurt his cheeks.

He scrambles for something to say to deflect. “So... uh. If you don’t take government funding, how do you really afford this place?”

It’s random and totally out of nowhere and he’s honestly half expecting Midoriya to just stammer something– maybe even to turn bright red like that day when Hitoshi had complimented him and he’d dropped the pile of books he was holding.

He is not expecting Midoriya to meet his gaze head on and gravely intone, “I’d tell you but then I’d have to kill you.”

It’s so unexpected in fact that Hitoshi chokes on his too warm water and Midoriya cheerily pats him on the back while laughing at him.

“Kidding kidding did you see your face?”

And Hitoshi watches him laugh even while his throat burns and can’t help but think that some things are worth choking for.

Chapter Text

It is on a random day in winter that Hitoshi suddenly finds himself humming under his breath as he catches up on some paperwork.

Abruptly his fingers freeze on the keyboard as the realization hits. 

“What the fuck?” he murmurs, resisting the urge to poke questioningly at his own lip.

“Yes! Finally! It’s freaking weird you zombie!”

Hitoshi sighs as Monoma keeps going, his office buddy ranting and raving about the unnaturalness that is Hitoshi being audibly cheerful. 

Some things never change.

Instead of bothering to think up a witty response, he ignores the comments about how creepy it apparently is when Hitoshi is happy– and dare he say it, actually smiling– and instead thinks of the actual weird thing going on in his life. Namely that he can’t seem to get enough of seeing Midoriya.

“Fuck,” he murmurs as a new thought occurs to him. “I think I love him.”

That more than anything serves to leave Phantom Thief speechless, the manic blond whirling around to stare at Hitoshi so fast he knocks his phone along with his coffee off his desk– but for once Hitoshi can’t even gloat.

What the fuck is he supposed to do now?

***

In hindsight it had been quite stupid of him to go out on patrol, business as usual, shortly after that world shaking revelation had thrown him all the way off his game.

Not that he’ll ever admit that out loud— suck it Monoma!

The point though is that Hitoshi was distracted, something you never want to be when facing the seedy underbelly of society, and so of course when he’d caught sight of a crime in progress he’d dropped down into that alley immediately to take care of it himself. 

A plan that usually would have worked out. 

Except that if he’d taken a couple seconds to further assess the situation first, he would have noticed that this particular alley opens into a parking lot that is very much not deserted for the hour as it should be. 

Hitoshi has just enough time to free the sobbing teenager from their attacker and cuff said attacker to a nearby fire escape before he is practically mobbed by a rush of accomplices jumping to the downed villain’s aid. 

Damn it he should have called for backup.

One of the Sp-eyeglasses functions is a bluetooth connection to the hero phone as well as being equipped with a quick dial feature to the selected hero agency— but even pressing that single button over his right ear is too much right now when it’s all hands on deck just to stay alive.

Hitoshi would honestly write in to Shield about adding some kind of voice activated feature to the things, except that considering his questionably obtained pair didn’t even come from them, a software update probably wouldn’t even help him.

He snarls at the injustice and ducks under two incoming attacks. The knife sails harmlessly over his head to lodge itself in a different villain's hand and Hitoshi immediately capitalizes on that moment of distraction to loop his scarf around the now bloody wrist of said hand, and yank. Hard. 

The guy goes flying, crashing into a couple of frankly ridiculous looking cloaked villains who are brandishing massive clubs and bats– and Hitoshi immediately retracts his scarf to send the now soaked bloody end slapping into another villain’s eyes. 

The disgusted shriek she lets out is honestly quite satisfying to hear and though he doesn’t usually bother in crowds like this, Hitoshi decides to give his quirk a try.

“Aww don’t cry!” he calls towards her in a tone that’s dripping with mock sympathy. “He probably didn’t have anything too communicable.”

“I’ll fucking kill you!” she shrieks back and Hitoshi has to resist the urge to smirk. 

Gotcha. 

Almost too easy.

He can’t tell what her quirk is, but luckily she’s holding a couple of throwing knives and he can bet she’s got plenty more literally up her sleeves.

“Immobilize that group over there,” he orders her, throwing his arm out with an unnecessary flourish to hopefully throw off any quirk experts that may be watching. “Don’t kill anyone.”

He turns back to the group in front of him with a confidence he doesn’t feel, and hopes that the kid he’d rescued had done the smart thing and called the cops. 

Honestly he’s not holding his breath though. 

Damn society and their implicit trust in heroes. What exactly about this situation could possibly be screaming ‘oh he’s got this’ to an onlooker. Stupid ungrateful civilians. 

He slides under an incoming blast of fire on his knees, and swallows his wince at the painful scrape with a scowl. His pants have held up of course, the things are made of fiber weave for a reason, but dang did that sharp gravel still manage to poke through at him. He’s not doing a move like that again if he can help it.

He whips his scarf out, expertly looping it around an overhead fire escape rail, and pulls himself to his feet with effort. He’d wanted to yank himself into the air to swing around kicking the villains in the head but…

But he’s flagging. 

He shouldn’t be but he is. 

Hitoshi might not be the epitome of good sleep habits and he might have more coffee than oxygen running through his bloodstream most days but he knows he shouldn’t be this tired yet. 

Someone here must have some kind of exhaustion inducing or energy manipulation quirk.

His eyes widen behind his Sp-eyeglasses as the connection hits.

Those cloaks. Those spiked clubs. An AOE drain quirk that doesn’t affect allies but slowly saps at the heroes.

Holy shit, Hitoshi has somehow stumbled upon the hideout of Maelstrom and if he doesn’t somehow take them all down right here and now, there is a zero percent chance he’s getting out of this alive.

Dammit but he really hopes that kid called the police.

It’s almost exactly as he thinks it that his control snaps and a throwing knife hits him from behind.

He wakes up tied to a chair again, because of course he does, of course Maelstrom has decided to interrogate him before disposing of him, of course of course of course.

His gear is gone, and he’s immediately outraged– not at the loss of his capture scarf or his emergency knife or his artificial vocal cords– but at his missing Sp-eyeglasses, the remains of which are clearly shattered across the floor before him as if to rub salt in his wounds. Dammit, he’s so ending up on a blacklist for this.

“ If you survive,” the Monoma that lives in his head crows like the feral bastard he is.

Hitoshi rolls his eyes. That goes without saying. 

At least he’s still wearing his hero costume, as unassuming as the jumpsuit alone might be. The armored padding and plating is probably the only reason he’s not already a bloody mess already and he thanks his lucky stars that his costume zipper is so difficult to find. That knife to his back hadn’t broken skin but it had knocked him off his feet again, leaving him to the mercies of that damn exhaustion quirk. He’d lost consciousness but he’s mostly fine for the moment. 

Not counting the spectacular bruise he can feel blooming between his shoulder blades of course.

Hitoshi sets it aside to deal with later.

“If there even is a–” intrusive thoughts Monoma starts.

Hitoshi shakes his head to shut the bastard up, and then has to blink the stars out of his eyes. Dammit that quirk really did a number on him. 

“You are quite stupid for a hero.” a smug voice cuts into his musings and Hitoshi slowly looks up, taking in as much of his surroundings as he can while he does. 

Some kind of bar, round tables with stools everywhere, various bottles and shot glasses on each of them, what looks like the entirety of Maelstrom seated all around the room, 5, 10, 15– Hitishi gives up trying to count after reaching twenty and finally focuses his attention on the figure before him. 

A golden cloak, bejeweled fingers, a slightly stooped form leaning atop a gold cane– this is the wanted top villain Vortex, leader of Maelstrom, killer of heroes.

God but Hitoshi is so beyond fucked.

“So young to be so stupid,” Vortex sighs, his fingers flexing on his cane so that his many rings tap-clack tap-clack against the top of it as he does. “Did you think to raise your rankings by taking all of us down by yourself? That was quite foolish, even for a newer hero.”

Hitoshi bristles with offense. He’s not some goddamned rookie making rookie mistakes! He’s a seasoned pro making rookie mistakes!

“Now…” Vortex continues, seemingly oblivious to the way Hitoshi is trying to strike him down with the strength of his glare alone. “How did you find this place?”

“I woke up here,” Hitoshi immediately retorts, because his reflexive snark is quite frankly both a blessing and a curse. 

He’s backhanded so hard his chair almost tips over.

“Come come,” Vortex says, absently pulling out an embroidered silk handkerchief to wipe his hand with. “I asked you a question.”

“Did you?” Hitoshi tries, hoping the villain will respond so he can work on an escape.

All he gets for his trouble is another backhand.

It’s in the exact same motion as the first one was, meaning either Vortex doesn’t want to dirty his hands more than he needs to or he’s hoping the bruises will compound on each other if they’re to the same spot repeatedly.

Hitoshi almost wants to take notes.

“I’ll never talk,” he spits, because grudging respect aside he has a reputation to uphold. Even if these guys clearly have no idea who he is. 

He’d almost prefer another sales pitch right about now. 

An irritating itch makes its way down his cheek in that way that he knows means he’s bleeding from one of the villain’s stupid rings.   

Asshole.

Pretentious prick.

The villain’s fingers flex against his cane once more, that damn tap-clack tap-clack sounding almost overly loud in the silent room. “We’ve taken the liberty of relieving you of your phone, hero. My technicians will crack it open in no time and then I'll have no more use for you. Last chance. How did you find us?”

For the first time since he became a hero, Hitoshi sees no way out.

With truly nothing left to lose he leans into his assholish behavior with a vengeance. “Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy.”

This time he can see the hit coming and he immediately leans back so he can snap at the offending limb with his teeth.

There’s a rush of sound, villains getting to their feet, chairs scraping audibly against the floor as they do– but Vortex stops them with a raised hand.

“How very amusing,” he laughs, wiping his hand off on Hitoshi’s costume this time. “Such a shame to have to kill you.”

“You know you don’t have to, right?” Hitoshi tries, one last attempt to snare Vortex in his quirk.

The villain opens his mouth to respond and Hitoshi holds his breath.

The door opens and Vortex turns away.

Dammit! 

Not like this, not fucking like this! He

 hasn’t even told Midoriya how he feels! They aren’t even on a first name basis yet!

“Vortex,” a cold and familiar voice rings out, effectively cutting through Hitoshi’s agitation like a bucket of ice water to the face. “What. Are you doing. To my hero.”

The villain takes a barely perceptible step back. “Y-Your hero? No no this isn’t–” He stops and stares down at Hitoshi with slowly dawning horror.

Hitoshi has no idea what the fuck’s going on but he can’t reist flashing Vortex a grin that’s all teeth.

“You broke his glasses,” Smiles continues, something dark and dangerous in his tone. “Those were expensive.”

And well, that answers Hitoshi’s question on how Smiles found him at least. He’s not sure how exactly he should be feeling about it though.

Vortex takes another step back in the manner that lets Hitoshi know Smiles is moving forward somewhere behind this stupid chair. Someone should frankly turn him around so he can see, this is just bad manners. 

“I’ll need to be compensated for–”

“The fuck you do!” Vortex suddenly snarls, straightening abruptly from his previous hunch and brandishing his cane wildly. “If anything you’re the one who’s betrayed me! Gave your pet hero my location did you? Hoped he’d cull my ranks a bit for you or some shit? Well this is Maelstrom baby! We’re not so easily defeated by the likes of you!”

Out of the corner of his eye Hitoshi can see Smiles step even closer, that ever present smoke billowing around him. He is clearly seething even behind his dark shades and surgical mask, and Hitoshi realizes with a start that where said mask has always had an eerie neon grin stitched on, today it is sporting a frown.

That feels important somehow.

“Are we supposed to be calling you Frowns today?” Hitoshi can’t help interjecting because his mouth always is faster than his brain.

Smiles sighs and even through the voice changer Hitoshi can read the exasperation and audible eye roll in it. “I am displeased,” he says. “And I make my displeasure known.”

He then goes on to add some comment about how if Persuasion were really here on Smiles’ orders he wouldn’t have failed so badly but Hitoshi is still reeling from Smiles actually answering him to fully focus on the words. 

Much as it had seemed like the broker was here to save him, he still hadn’t actually expected a response. Considering his quirk and the fact that he’s still very much a hero, quite frankly he wasn’t expecting Smiles to speak to him at all.

“Enough!” Vortex shouts, spreading his hands out in a clear signal. “Attack!”

“But boss,” a goon tries as none of the villains move. “It’s Smiles.”

“So what!” Vortex rages, spit flying from his mouth and all. “His knowledge will only be a threat if he makes it out of here alive to use it!”

“But what if he’s working with the heroes?” Hitoshi immediately calls back, mimicking the goon’s voice and tone as best he can without his gear.

“Then we make sure to kill him before they–”

Smiles is already leaping high, a bo staff whirling in his hands to deflect quirks and weapons alike and Hitoshi grabs control of Vortex with a sharpness he doesn't usually use. 

Dammit that was close.

First thing, he has Vortex duck down out of sight where no one can break his control. In a whirlwind of chaos like this there isn’t much his quirk can do to aid the battle but if he can keep the key figure and strongest quirk off the playing field then hopefully that’ll be enough for now. 

He tests the strength of his bonds behind his back and starts looking around for something to cut them with. 

His jaw drops and he can’t help but stare in stunned silence at the sight that greets him. 

Smiles is hopping from table to table with a grace Hitoshi would never have expected from him, dodging and deflecting various quirk attacks with ease— a veritable maelstrom of his own. Everywhere he lands, bottles and drinks shatter beneath rapid stomps of his booted feet and the wild swings of his staff. Shards of glass fly in all directions and the stench of spilled alcohol lingers heavy in the air as it drips down the tables, the chairs and surrounding walls. 

“Um,” Hitoshi blinks, trying and failing to make order of the chaos as Smiles finally lands on the bar top near him. 

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” the broker drawls, flipping open a pocketknife in a frankly ostentatious manner before sending it flying towards Hitoshi’s side. 

The ropes holding Hitoshi to the chair audibly snap at the well placed nic left behind by the blade and Hitoshi uses his new freedom to cross his arms and scowl. “Fuck you! You bugged my glasses!”

“I mean, considering what I walked in on, I’m not going to apologize,” Smiles laughs. 

Hitoshi rolls his eyes and crosses his legs too in a show of making himself more comfortable in his chair. 

Smiles laughs harder, the sound oddly tinny through the voice changer at his throat and Hitoshi finds that he has to actually stop himself from laughing too. 

Fuck but illegal or not, this little info broker is growing on him. 

Smiles trips suddenly on nothing as Hitoshi feels that uncanny exhaustion pulling at him again. 

Without missing a beat Smiles removes one of his shoes, twists the heel, and sends it flying directly at one of the villains.

The villain yelps, hands flying up to protect their face but it’s futile as seconds before impact the boot is practically swallowed up by the flash bang going off in the heel. 

The villain goes down, both blinded and reeling from the sudden blow to his face, and the exhaustion pulling at Hitoshi vanishes. 

He blinks the flash out of his eyes utterly bemused by the realization that Smiles had apparently been wearing a whole second set of shoes under his boots this whole time.

“Don't bother using your quirks!” a woman in a silver cloak shouts, dazzling bracelets jangling on her wrist as she points. “He knows everything about us and how to work around them! Just focus on killing him!”

“You really think you can?” Smiles asks, slamming his palm down onto his watch.  

“You’re outnumbered and outmatched and you know it!” she shrieks back. 

The cloud of smoke that always accompanies Smiles to shroud his form suddenly billows outward.

Hitoshi immediately ducks down into it, crashing into Smiles head first.

“I don’t suppose you’ve called for reinforcements?” he hisses, rubbing at his head, in pain and agitation both.

“I’m an info broker,” Smiles says with a laugh, poking at Hitoshi with a gloved finger, as he once again answers easily like Hitoshi’s quirk isn’t anything to be wary of. “What do you think?”

“Right right,” Hitoshi huffs, rubbing out his poked arm now instead. “Stupid question.”

“Found them!” someone yells and the fight resumes in earnest. 

“You’re really bad at this aren’t you?” Hitoshi snarks as Smiles barely manages to dodge a blow, briefly pressing up against the hero’s back for a moment before springing forward again. 

“I don’t normally go out in person!” Smiles hisses back– or is that just static from the punch a thug landed on his voice changer?

Hitoshi bends to avoid a high kick, his own back colliding with the info broker’s this time, and man, can’t these villains give them some space so they aren’t constantly fighting literally back to back like this?

“Aw I’m touched,” he jokes back, disarming his current opponent and taking custody of the sword. His blade skills have gotten a bit rusty since his training days but it’ll be more than enough to handle these guys. “I’ve personally seen you on a couple occasions, you know?” 

He deflects a pipe with his arm guard, slamming the hilt of his borrowed blade into the villain's forehead. He kicks out as they go down, sending the now limp body crashing into some of their buddies. “Guess that makes me special huh?”

“Yes.”

Hitoshi falters, abruptly thrown off by the answer, and almost takes a bottle to the head for his trouble. 

Smiles blocks the hit for him, like it’s easy, like it’s nothing– with his bare hand no less! The broker briefly winces in pain at the shower of broken glass, but swipes the thug’s feet out from under them immediately with his staff. 

“Hey Persuasion. Think you can focus on the task at… hand?” Smiles brandishes his now bleeding palm pointedly and Hitoshi stares at him. 

“Did you just make a joke?”

Smiles doesn’t answer but Hitoshi can almost feel the smirk on the man’s face even behind the mask. 

The morally gray info broker hefts his staff in one hand and addresses the room at large with a flourish. “Well this has been fun… but I think it’s high time we wrap things up.”

Before Hitoshi can do more than blink, Smiles has whipped his now collapsed bo staff across the room where it loudly impacts the fuse box jutting out of the wall. 

Sparks fly and catch on the alcohol still dripping down the nearby walls and tables from where Smiles had shattered them throughout his initial fight and– it hits Hitoshi suddenly that this had been the broker’s exit strategy all along. 

The chaos is immediate as flames practically erupt everywhere and in the confusion Smiles manages to vanish. 

Two whole seconds before Eraserhead shows up, which Hitoshi should have honestly expected considering Smiles had never said he hadn’t called for backup. 

By the time the fire has been dealt with and the villains arrested, Smiles has somehow managed to recover his staff and his shoe from the scene.

Because of course he did.

It’s a long couple of hours before Hitoshi can finally finally crawl into bed and sleep the terrible night away.  

When next he wakes there’s a new pair of Sp-eyeglasses waiting for him on his dresser because of course there is. 

***

“Hey! What happened to you?” Hitoshi asks, tone serious for once as he stares at Midoriya’s arm in a sling. 

“O-Oh this? I uh I fell off a uh, the ladder.”

Hitoshi narrows his eyes in suspicion. 

Midoriya only ever stutters when he’s nervous or embarrassed. That’s something Hitoshi had managed to figure out fairly quickly. Is Midoriya ashamed of having fallen? Hitoshi already knows he can be clumsy when he isn’t focused.

“It. It looks worse than it is!” Midoriya flusters, lifting his hand out of the sling to show off his wrapped palm. “I kept forgetting not to use it,” he mumbles. “So my mother made me put it in a sling.”

Hitoshi huffs a laugh as Midoriya replaces his hand in the sling. Honestly it’s a very nice shade of black that blends well with Midoriya’s gray cardigan in a very nice look. And now that he knows the injury isn’t serious, Hitoshi can focus on other more important things such as how nice Midoriya’s hair looks today pulled back into a neat high tail, and how beautiful his green eyes look wide behind those frames and–

Hitoshi swallows.

And how much he really loves him.

Speaking of which. 

“Hey so I’ve been thinking…” Hitoshi starts, shuffling his feet and clearing his throat for courage.

Midoriya beams at him, already in the midst of pulling his coat on. “Yeah?”

“Yeah uh.” Hitoshi averts his gaze and scratches lightly at the bandage on his cheek. “So um. What if you started calling me Hitoshi? You know?”

Midoriya pauses, hand already half in his sleeve as he suddenly lets go of the coat, letting it drop to the floor. “I… what?”

Hitoshi scuffs his shoe against the ground. “You know, if you wanted to. No pressure.”

“Hitoshi,” Midoriya says slowly.

Hitoshi blinks. “Wow. Yeah okay. Frankly that was easier than I thought it’d be.”

Midoriya laughs. “Well I mean we are dating. Right?”

That last is suddenly hesitant and unsure and Hitoshi immediately bends down to scoop up the discarded coat and help Midoriya into it. 

“We are.” He smiles and adds, “In fact we’re heading on a date right now.”

Midoriya beams and Hitoshi takes his hand and slowly they walk out into the snow, Midoriya locking the staff exit of the library behind them. 

“So… can I call you Izuku now or…”

Midoriya laughs, leaning his head against Hitoshi’s arm as they go. “I think I can be persuaded,” he teases.

Hitoshi grins. “I have it on good authority that I can be very persuasive.”

Midoriya snorts. “Persuasive is your middle name huh?”

“Kind of yeah,” Hitoshi laughs. 

Middle name, hero name, same difference right?

The thought serves to put a damper on Hitoshi’s mood though. He hasn’t told Midoriya about being a hero yet, underground or not. And that’s been on purpose obviously since he doesn't want to open the can of worms that is the library and the morally gray way that it helps abused runaways and ex-villains make something of their lives. And he definitely doesn’t want to touch the way he’s been ignoring it because he isn’t ever on duty when he’s around and he hasn’t seen anything definitively illegal yet. 

Somehow it feels like his adopted obliviousness won’t hold up once Midoriya knows who he really is. 

And Hitoshi would hate to lose him if he ever decided that Hitoshi couldn’t be trusted.

“Hey,” Midoriya’s voice has softened as he gently cuts into Hitoshi’s thoughts. “I was just joking. You don’t need persuasion, you can call me Izuku if you want to.”

The sound of his hero name, even in this context just bums Hitoshi out even more and it’s with great effort that he rouses himself and pastes a smile on his face.

“Alright. Izuku.”

Midor– Izuku flails and blushes just like Hitoshi knew he would, and it brings a soft smile to Hitoshi’s face even as he can’t fully shake off the melancholy.

He loves Izuku, loves spending time with him, loves getting to see him and talk to him and…

He’d hate to lose it. 

But he’s not going to stop being a hero over it.

And he doesn’t know what he'd do if Izuku ever asked him to. 

Izuku takes his hand again and they walk the rest of the way to the museum in silence.

It’s only after they’ve paid the entry fee and checked their coats in, that Izuku starts dragging him down a particular hallway with the air and purpose of someone who’s been here before, and Hitoshi finally thinks to ask him what exactly they’re here to see.

“You’re gonna love it!” Izuku grins, radiating an almost childlike excitement as he tugs Hitoshi along. “You’ve been wondering about this for ages!”

Hitoshi blinks. “I have?”

“Yeah!” Izuku beams, and then they’re standing in a long long long hallway filled floor to ceiling with All Might merch. There are posters and figures and books and films and… and glass cases holding onesies and outfits, t-shirts and sweatshirts, all lined up by size and arranged in such a way that people can stand behind it so that it looks like they’re wearing it and take pictures. 

Hitoshi abruptly realizes his mouth is hanging open and he slowly closes it, turning a slow circle to truly take it all in. “This is…” he murmurs.

“Yeah,” Izuku finishes for him. “This is mine.”

Hitoshi whips around to stare at him because that wasn’t even close to what he was going to say. “What?” 

“Yup,” Izuku says softly, placing his hand atop the glass case that holds a tiny All Might onesie for toddlers. “You wanted to know how I paid for the library, right? This is it. I signed a contract transferring ownership for five years in exchange for a lump sum that I could use as a startup. And then I handed over all my merch that had been painstakingly collected and maintained by my mother and me since I was a kid and I used the money to buy a building and set up a library.”

“Oh,” Hitoshi manages. “Uh… cool?”

Izuku laughs. “Yeah. It kind of is, huh?”

“Man you were so cryptic,” Hitoshi teases, bending down to study a collection of keychains hanging off a bright yellow backpack. “You could have just told me the truth, I wouldn’t have made fun of you for being a fanboy.”

Izuku raises an eyebrow.

“...much,” Hitoshi amends. “I mean this is awesome in its own way right?”

Izuku flushes, fiddling with his sling like he wants to wring his hands together but can’t because of his injury. “Thanks. It’s uh, it’s kind of bittersweet for me to be here. Like it’s mine but it’s technically not you know? It’ll be mine again once the contract is up but right now it isn’t. It feels weird to have to pay to come see my own stuff.”

“True. But hey, at least you get a fully functioning business out of it right?”

Izuku tilts his head at him questioningly. “What do you mean?”

Hitoshi blinks back at him confused. “Well you said the lump sum covered the building and supplies right? So I was assuming you get some kind of percentage of ticket sale profits to cover the rest of your expenses.”

Izuku smiles at him and there’s something about it, something almost cryptic in the twist of his lips as he laughs like Hitoshi just made a joke.

“I told you before, didn't I? I don't get funding. I just own the building and everything in it.”

“So then how do you…” Hitoshi trails off as Izuku takes his arm again and leans in close like he’s going to share a secret.

“Donations.” Izuku whispers, his breath ghosting over the shell of Hitoshi’s ear as he speaks in a way that makes him shiver. “I guess you’d call them donations.”