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Izuku was a tired, tired man.
Now, this may seem like an exaggeration, simply because he’s not even sixteen yet, but he can say with cold clarity that he has never felt more like his homeroom teacher before in his short, short life.
He hadn’t gotten any sleep in the past three days. A slight hyperbole, but all three days combined really only totaled to about two hours of sleep. So, he really couldn’t be held accountable when he woke up on the Leagues bar floor and simply blinked away the drowsiness still lingering in his system.
“‘w long ‘v I b’ out?” and dear jesus he was slurring. “How long.. ‘v I been.. out?” ah, there we go. Coherent words. Maybe not, because every visible member of the League was staring at him like he had just kicked their kitten and shot their mothers.
Izuku spied a couch. He narrowed his eyes. Warm, comfortable, inviting couch. He rolls over, and practically crawls to the heavenly plush cushions. He hefts himself up on weak arms, and sighs when his weight sinks into them. His eyelids droop, and everything around him fades into a dull hum for a few blissful seconds.
Naturally, that's when Shigaraki decided to ruin it.
“Hero brat. We—” Izuku groaned into the couch, sobbing loudly into the cushions. The League was staring at him, he could feel it.
He propped himself up. “What do you want? ”
Dabi snorted, leaning up against the bar with an amused smirk. Toga was sitting up on top of the bar, swinging her legs back and forth with a small smile. Shigaraki looked annoyed. Probably. Or maybe that was just his face all the time. Izuku wasn’t sure at this point.
“Hey! We kidnapped you! I still have questions to ask you, brat.”
Izuku looked up from where he’d buried his face in the cushion and eyed the blanket lying over the back of the couch. He’s pretty sure Shigaraki was talking about something. He reached out for the blanket, missing it by a few feet. God damnit. Was Shigaraki still talking?
He scooted himself forward. Aha. The blanket was in sight. He reached for it again, clutching the soft fabric in his hands. Finally. Izuku curled up in the corner of the couch, wrapping the heavenly blanket around his shoulders, nestling into the cushions again. God, where did the League get the funds for such a good couch?
“-ey. Hey!”
Izuku looks up at them. “I dunno.. just, like, don’ use your quirks? You like.. literally can’t get charged with anythin’ if you don’. Or like.. planned murder.. but you could argue crime of passion? I don’ know.. what were you even talkin’ about?”
He was fairly sure that was nowhere even close to what the League had been talking about, but now they looked interested.
“You basically can’t get charged with anything if you don’t use your quirk? What the fuck? Why has nobody taken advantage of this yet?”
Izuku shrugged, distantly wishing for another blanket. He closed his eyes, and leaned his head back, wishing that the League would let him sleep. “Ninety-so people have quirks.. it’d jus’ be odd not to think of usin’ it I gues..”
One of the League members–Spinner?–gave him a weird look. “You sure? Seems like a bit of a stretch to think that..”
“Nope.” Izuku popped the ‘p’, feeling the familiar words recite in his head. “Section 404 of ‘Laws Regarding the Classification and Ramification of Villainy and Vigilantism in Modern Quirk Society’ states that any quirked persons can be charged as villains or vigilantes only if illegal quirk use is present.” he shrugged again, a hazy feeling settling over him. Ah. The lull of sleep. How tempting. “So.”
He opened one of his eyes, peering at the shocked or otherwise odd faces of the League members. They’re criminals, how in hell did they not know this.
Yet again, Shigaraki is saying something that Izuku can’t quite comprehend. Quite frankly, he doesn’t want to. He turns his head, shifting his position and his breathing evens out. Finally, he can fucking sleep.
–
Izuku woke up to a smoke alarm.
And screaming.
What the fuck.
He turned his head, rubbing at his eyes for a moment before he really took the scene in. First of all, the bar was on fire. And by on fire, he meant Dabi was trying to maul Shigaraki as the latter repeatedly dodged and let Dabi slam his flaming palms on the wood countertops.
Dear god. Kurogiri was going to be so fucking mad at them. Hell, he hadn’t even seen the misty man at all when he’d woken up on the bar floor, and he still knew how pissed off he was going to be. He prayed for Dabi and Shigarakis' souls. They were going to need it.
True to his word, once Kurogiri set foot in that kitchen, you could feel the rage coming off of him in waves. “Dabi. Tomura Shigaraki.” They stopped immediately. Ah. Sweet, sweet silence. He was honestly surprised that the smoke alarm even worked in the first place.
That still didn’t explain the fact that his homeroom teacher was glaring down at him like he just ran off to stop-slash-help his classmate murder someone again. Good memories, those. “Problem child.” Izuku nodded. “Aizawa-sensei.”
The man rolled his eyes, grabbing his hand and yanking him up from the couch. “Don’t ‘Aizawa-sensei’ me. You’ve been gone for the past forty hours. Todorokis having a fit without you. Bakugous tried to explode your classmates so many times that I’m thinking of just getting rid of the windows entirely. Do you know how much windows cost? We’ve had to pay for five in the past twelve hours. Think about what's happened in forty.”
Izuku hummed noncommittally, bemoaning the loss of his beloved blanket. It was so soft, too.
Aizawa, the poor, poor man, dragged him away from the plush cushions of that heavenly couch. With Izuku in tow, he waved a tired mock-salute to Kurogiri, who was supervising Dabi and Shigaraki as they put out the fires. “Nice catching up with you, Kurogiri. I see you have your own hellions to deal with.” Kurogiris form flickers with something Izuku thought might be amusement. “Yes, yes indeed. I bid you good luck with your own students, as well, then.”
Aizawa sighed, a tired sound. “I’m going to need it for when I get back. I swear to god their first instinct when someone goes missing is to find them themselves. Do you know how many times I’ve had to stop the little blondes friends from sneaking out to find this little shit?” he ruffled Izukus hair as he said that. He preferred ‘problem child’, if he was being honest.
In some sort of silent conversation, Kurogiri opened a warp gate for Aizawa to continue dragging Izuku through, ending up just outside of UA gates. “Come on, problem child. I’m fairly sure—” he stopped, staring ahead. His shoulders drooped. He looked so exhausted.
Izuku tried to follow his gaze, stopping short on the splintered glass that littered the grounds. He looked up. It was right in front of the dormitory building.
Aizawa buried his head in his hands. “I want a fucking raise.”
Izuku patted his back sympathetically. He wanted a raise, too, sometimes.
The man looked back up at Izuku. “Go get your fucking feral pomeranian before he does something. Get Todoroki too, he might—” a sudden burst of flames could be seen from the shattered window, and a faint alarm could be heard.
Aizawa groaned. Izuku agreed. “Come on, sensei, I’ll go reign in Kacchan and Shouto as long as I can punt Mineta during training later.”
“Fucking deal.”