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He’d had a long day. Multiple classes had rigorous tests Toshinori had overseen, both practical and written, and he was still behind on grading the last set of written exams. Physically, he was drained from having to sustain the form of All Might for the school day, plus all the other myriad patchwork of fickle chronic pains that would never go away. Mentally, it was starting to wear on him terribly that he couldn’t be the illustrious Symbol of Peace for anything more than a public front, so no one would see the pathetic man behind that iconic grin.
It did brighten his day somewhat whenever Izuku ran to him to babble about his training and how much better he’s gotten at controlling his quirk, so Toshinori had that at least. Kid had the personality of a neutron star, and it is deadly infectious. His optimism and ideals were refreshing, reminding Toshinori of a much younger version of himself that had wanted so badly to give hope to every single human being that saw him.
Sometimes, it felt like young Midoriya was giving him back some of the life he'd given away so readily. An absurd thought, but. Whatever the reality was, Toshinori appreciated that the boy seemed so determined to live up to the legacy he was carrying on, and determined not to forget his predecessor as he did. Toshinori had, on multiple occasions, had to fight away tears when the young man brought him little things between classes - small treats he could manage to keep down despite his lack of stomach, extra boxes of tissues to keep at his desk whenever he fell into a coughing fit or otherwise found himself spewing blood and other fluids, spare tea bags because he'd mentioned he was running out.
Either the other teachers hadn't paid their relationship much mind or they were satisfied with idle entertainment over it. Toshinori had caught Present Mic gushing quietly - as quietly as the volume-challenged Voice Hero could, anyway - to Midnight and Eraserhead over the little interactions during lunch breaks several times, and nowadays Mic and plenty of other teachers had taken to calling Midoriya "mini-Might" when talking about him. Without meaning to, he'd apparently fathered a teenager, and Toshinori found that it didn't bother him as much as he thought it might.
Unfortunately, as with many things, Eraserhead took notice, and made sure Toshinori knew precisely what he thought of it.
Also unfortunately, Toshinori appreciated even when he was reprimanded by the other teacher. He might've developed a slight crush. Partly driven by how committed Aizawa was to his students, and partly because he seemed to like the crippled Yagi Toshinori over the vastly more powerful and popular All Might. It had been strange, the first few times they butted heads over teaching techniques or lesson plans or whatnot, because Aizawa had seemed to treat him like a rebellious student - angry, yes, but only because he knew that things could be better. At the time, Toshinori thought that was mere wishful thinking, until Mic cleared it up after some very unapproved light drinking Midnight and King Vlad suggested.
That's just how our Sho tells people he likes 'em! Mic had announced cheerfully when Toshinori mentioned his surly attitude. Don't let it get to ya, big man, Shouta's just thinkin' about the little brats and what they'll take away from your teachin', y'know? He wants the best for 'em, and for you, if you're gonna stick around.
It hadn't been the best assurance, but it had given Toshinori the confidence to trust Aizawa's criticisms at his word, rather than trying to think through how he'd misstepped so terribly. Recently, those criticisms have - not relaxed, but become less frequent. Now, Aizawa seems to be more focused on getting Toshinori to actually keep up, which was, admittedly, more difficult than he'd expected.
He’d taken a big stack of papers with him when he left UA that day, hoping to catch up a bit on his grading. The other teachers milling about the teacher's lounge after classes had given him a collective condescending glance when he mentioned it, as though to say, Oh sweetie, you really are new at this. Well, he’d make an attempt at it at least. And maybe get the chance to think up some new practical study exercises for the students while he’s at it. Surely that would be a step in the right direction.
He’s thinking about it so much that he doesn’t notice the sharp eyes tracking his path.
-
The chair Toshinori is slammed down into is metal, creaky, and very uncomfortable. At least his bonds aren’t too rough, not silk cloth or anything but enough for his eyes not to water and itch and his wrists not to chafe. Considerate abductors!
“Yagi Toshinori,” someone says with the crinkle of moving paper. It doesn’t sound like Shigaraki, which is a plus. Toshinori wasn’t exactly sure what he’d do if that little prick pieced together his unfortunate secret. Even though he should be more reassured that he hasn't been found out by one of the worst potential culprits, Toshinori can't help the rise of apprehensive anxiety in his chest. “A high school teacher at the illustrious and incomparable UA High School,” the mysterious speaker continues to rattle off, “Two-point-one meters in height, seventy-five-point-seven kilograms in weight…” Toshinori raises an eyebrow. Did they just bring him out here to read off the metrics from his last doctor’s visit? “And curiously enough, a relative to the Symbol of Peace, although no one’s managed to deduce as such.” The stranger seems awfully smug about that last line.
Toshinori shrugs. “Yeah. You can read a doctor’s paperwork. What of it?”
Someone growled off to his right, but they’re quieted down in a moment. It wasn’t the initial speaker, that one was directly ahead of him. “Mostly trying to let you know just how much information we’ve taken the time to gather. It wasn’t easy, no, no, no.” The mystery speaker chuckles, and more papers are flipped through. “Had to go through a lot of trouble for some of these.”
If they knew who he was, they would’ve led off with that. Even so, Toshinori feels just a bit tense at the uncertain but quite real possibility. “So what’s the goal here? Feels like you should’ve gone after someone a little higher profile.” He can’t use his power for another six hours at least - he'd spent a lot of time doing practical exercises the day before, which meant he was forced to rest longer than if he'd just been doing typical deskwork - so Toshinori tries to settle for information-gathering for the time being. It does rankle to be as helpless as an infant, but he’ll make do for as long as he needs to.
“My colleagues have said as much but I think you’re exactly what we need,” the speaker replies confidently. Colleagues is vague, but Toshinori can catch the undertone of the statement - they’re not talking about anyone else in this room. Those would probably be lackeys or thugs. “Someone closely related to All Might to draw him out of hiding! Their first choice was the Midoriya boy-“ Toshinori tightens his grip on the rope binding his arms. “-But he’s young and robust enough that he’d be much harder to capture and contain.” His grip loosens once again, and he subtly releases a breath.
“Right. Take advantage of the sickly old man instead of the hero-track kid. Safer move, to be sure.” He can’t see, but he can tell that the speaker is just beaming at his indirect praise (which frankly is just a logical analysis but whatever). He’s even happier that these goons snatched him up at a bad time now. He doesn’t want to think of Midoriya in these binds, relatively comfortable though they might be.
His comment had been made mostly to stall for time to think out his next move, though it was apparently also taken as an invitation to be conversational; the primary speaker barks out a laugh. "Guess I should've expected someone so close to All Might would nail the plan," they say, condescending. "Probably even more since you and him are surrounded by stiffs at that ridiculous peacock school all day." Toshinori can easily pick up the acidic tone and guess that this is another villain with disdain for heroes and aspiring students. Unsurprising, really.
Then a thought.
A potential escape route, even.
“Y’know, being a teacher at a competitive hero academy gives me a lot of powerful contacts,” Toshinori says, as casual as if he were talking about the weather. It did get the room’s other occupants to shut up and pay attention, though. “If I don’t show up in…what time is it?”
“Six-fifteen am.”
“Alright; if I don’t show up in about fifteen minutes without any message otherwise, the staff are going to realize something’s wrong.” He waits a beat for the realization to settle in before continuing. “And once the staff take notice, it’s only a matter of time before a pro is put on the case and the police get involved and…well. You know the process, I’m sure.” He keeps his voice even and calm, to hopefully intimidate the villains rather than try to challenge them. Toshinori is well aware that he doesn’t look remotely capable as he is, and he wants it to stay that way. He wants to threaten them by proxy. Let them realize the potential consequences of abducting a man that has quite a few acclaimed professionals keeping an eye on him.
And his plan is rather effective. He can hear booted feet pacing the floor in front of him, and the anxious shuffling of mismatched shoes to his right and left. “Ain't that what we want?” one of the underlings whisper-yells, like Toshinori’s deaf.
"Of course not, you fuckin' dumbass!" A third voice, so the second of the thugs. "We gotta set shit up so when All Might gets here we can fuck him up!"
The first underling growls and there's an indistinct scuffle just behind Toshinori's back. "Fuck off! Why ain't it set up yet?!"
"We didn't know we were gonna get the bastard the first go, you fuckin'-!"
“Shut it!” Their leader snaps. Then an aggravated huff. "We can't just let them come pick this fucker up after we went to the effort of grabbing him," the leader mutters. "If they find him before we're ready, this whole thing goes up in smoke," they add with a low growl.
They’re nervous, though - they’re pacing and there’s a consistent tak-tak-tak of plastic tapping against plastic. Toshinori forces himself to relax. He’s gotta wait for the inevitable conclusion, then figure out what to do next. It's not his usual preferred method of dealing with villains, but he has to make do with his current situation. Something to bring up to Aizawa maybe, to add into the students' lessons...later.
Suddenly the tapping sound stops, instead clattering onto the floor. “Alright! Here’s what we’ll do,” the speaker says, voice high-pitched and frantic, and as the sound of papers and folders rustling in a bag meets his ears, Toshinori knows he’s won. “We’ll just send a few messages to make sure nobody gets suspicious! Easy." They don't sound very reassured. Good.
Toshinori fights not to smirk. “They’ll probably know it’s not me if you do it.” The snap of something plastic. The leader mutters something inaudible, sounding mostly like a variety of curses and berating words. “Why not just let me send them?”
The leader barks out a laugh. “Please. Like we’re going to unbind you so you can use your quirk to escape.”
Toshinori is quietly surprised, though he doesn't let it show. They know so much about him, but not his real identity or his sans-One For All quirk status? Hey, it works in his favor this time, so he’ll gladly take it, although it does make him a bit more curious about these potential colleagues the trio's leader had mentioned. “I’m quirkless. Couldn’t escape from you super freaks if I tried.” There’s several long moments of silence. He can envision the lot of them staring at one another, with silently mouthed words like Why didn’t you know he was quirkless?! Well, why didn’t you find out?! How was I supposed to get that information?!
It takes several long, agonizing minutes - or perhaps just a few seconds, it's so much different being on this side of a hostage situation - before the leader huffs like a petulant child. Toshinori had an idea that this particular group wasn't all that experienced, and that suspicion is further confirmed the longer he has to interact with them. “Alright, fine. Send as many messages as you need to be sure no one shows up!” His phone is tossed onto his lap, and someone snaps their fingers impatiently. “Go on, untie him, we don't need any cops running in here.”
The lackeys are clearly reluctant, but, evidenced by the two pairs of shuffling steps towards his comfortless seat, do as told, allowing Toshinori to flex some feeling back into his arms once the rough-textured bindings fall away and can finally remove his blindfold. As expected, he’s been stuck in a featureless concrete box with no suggestion of windows or doors except for the rusted metal one right in front of him. The only thing ensuring airflow was a single tiny vent set into the floor just in front of his feet. He's somewhat reassured that the small bag he'd been convinced to carry his classes' assignments in is sitting beside the door undamaged. Aizawa would be upset if he'd lost any of them. And although he was certain his captors hadn’t left, Toshinori couldn’t see another soul.
Then someone giggled right in front of his face, startling him backwards against the metal back of the chair. “You like my quirk?” The leader. “I can make myself and up to ten others completely invisible. Good for hiding in plain sight.” The metal door suddenly swings open, as if of its own volition. “I’ve got some phone calls to make, so you send your messages however you like. Take your time, Yagi!” The invisibility quirk adds with a smug assuredness in their voice.
The door hangs open for several seconds longer than it should for a single person, then slams shut. They wanted him to think that the thugs left too. Toshinori knows they haven’t moved a bit. No footsteps had left aside from the leader's - an oversight and misstep of putting them in an empty room with no sound deadening to muffle their movements - and he could still hear the two goons breathing heavily just to either side of him. They wanted to catch him in the act, maybe get a few extra snippets of information out of him.
Amateurs, the lot of them.
Toshinori scrolls through his contacts and messages, to two in particular, considering how to leave innocuous details behind that could hopefully get him out of this miserable place before lunch. God knows Recovery Girl will be on him for not eating for so long, abduction or no.
-
Shouta stares at the door to the teacher’s lounge much more than he usually does. One by one, teachers file in for their morning routines before classes officially start. All but one. One that’s almost always here before anyone else, even Nezu.
He knows better than to really worry. Yagi's been practically forced to take it easy lately, so there’s no way he’d be out pushing himself now. He can’t afford to anymore with how restrictive his time limit has become. Shouta does anyway, because who else is going to worry about the man? Midoriya, but the kid doesn’t count, he worries about everything.
Yamada slouches beside him, groaning about how unenthusiastic his class has been about his spare English lessons. “It’s just some cultural appreciation! I don’t know why they aren’t more pumped about it!”
“Mmhm.”
“Really it’s not even all that hard, compared to what I’ve seen from some of those business track classes.”
“Yeah.”
“Sho?”
“Yep.”
“Ey, Sho!” Shouta is knocked out of his blank-minded responses and forced to turn towards Yamada. The loud-mouth chuckles, though worry creases his brow. “Geez, man, what’s got you so focused today?” Yamada snickers with a sudden thought. “You missin’ the big blondie?”
“No,” Shouta lies. He always misses Toshinori- sorry, Yagi, and it’s an unfortunate point of embarrassment for him. He desperately likes the man, and that makes him hyper-aware of his presence or absence. The fact that it’s nearly six-forty and he still hasn’t shown up is more than concerning. It's...unnerving, actually; the intense, innate knowledge of where Toshi- Yagi is the moment he steps into or out of a room without having to look at him is beyond uncanny. It's a level of focus and intuition that Shouta only really feels when in combat. If he thinks about it too hard, it frightens him to have this kind of attachment to someone - to All Might at that. It wasn't like he hadn't tried to get over this puppy love - because that's all it had to be right? Weird emotions because of all the crazy bullshit happening around UA recently - it just kept coming back, stronger every time he thought he'd managed to choke it out. Like the most annoying weed anyone had ever encountered. Not unlike All Might himself, which Shouta couldn't help laughing bitterly at.
Suddenly, Shouta’s phone rings with a text. He would normally ignore it, but he’s just distracted enough to peek at whoever it might be.
Yagi Toshinori [6:37 AM]: Hey not going to be able to make it in today, let nezu know for me
Yagi Toshinori [6:40 AM]: Earlier, was on the verge of being sick, but never thought it’d catch on this fast
Yagi Toshinori [6:40 AM]: Lets talk about hero studies results next time we see each other
Shouts raises an eyebrow as if he were looking at the man himself. Unprofessional at best to text a coworker to tell the boss about your absence. But maybe he shouldn’t expect much from that blowhard All Might.
And then he gets two messages almost simultaneously.
Yagi Toshinori [6:41 AM]: Please
Midoriya Izuku [6:41 AM]: Mr Aizawa I need to see you right now can I come to the teachers lounge its an emergency
Shouta tries not to get overly friendly with students - Kayama does that more than enough for everybody else - but he’s got such a soft spot for 1-A. Some of them never asked, but the ones that did got his UA-assigned phone number; he’s sure as hell not gonna invite these kids to bug him when he’s not working (even though some did and he always entertained whatever bullshit was going on). Midoriya claiming an emergency definitely set off alarms, particularly if he’s messaging Shouta instead of his idol and mentor.
He gives Midoriya an affirmative, then sweeps out of the lounge, Yamada calling after him. Other staff and the small handful of students that arrive this early give him strange looks as he marches through the UA halls, but Shouta staunchly ignores all of them, focused instead on locating the head of messy green hair that had so frantically asked for him. He also ignores the kernel of dread that settles in his chest; nobody needs that right now, least of all Midoriya.
The pair meet in the hallway just around the corner from the 1-B classroom, Midoriya running and nearly blowing right past his teacher without noticing. Shouta grabs the boy’s arm and drags him into an empty alcove set into the wall. “What’s the emergency?”
The boy's eyes are frantic, darting back and forth like a cornered animal. Shouta notices that he's breathing in shallow, quick breaths, and puts a steadying hand on his shoulder. Midoriya shudders suddenly, shakes himself out, and gets his breathing under control for a split second before he loses his composure again, just as quickly as he gained it. “A-All Might," he stammers, "I got a message from All Might, but it’s-“ Midoriya fumbles for a moment to take his phone out of his backpack, hands clearly shaking and nearly dropping the device, and shows the message to Shouta.
All Might [6:35 AM]: Midoriya, you and **me** need to discuss that **101** sometime, maybe we can discuss it on the **south route** from UA sometime in the evening after your school day
Shouta intuits the code before Midoriya says anything. He looks back at the messages on his own device.
Hey…
Earlier…
Lets talk…
Please
H E L P
How had he not been able to see it earlier? “The numbers are police code for a hostage situation!” Midoriya says, out of breath, “And he probably can’t use his power or else he would’ve just broken out himself, right?! But I don’t know what ‘south route’ is supposed to mean, he needs help, I don't-“
“Midoriya. Relax.” The kid clams up immediately and looks up at Shouta. So trusting and in need of reassurance. “I know where he means,” Shouta informs the boy calmly, voice even. You’d think he just said the most world-shattering good news with how Midoriya’s youthful green eyes sparkled. Shouta turns him back out of the alcove, shoving him towards the direction he'd walked from. “Go to the teacher’s lounge and tell them Yagi Toshinori is currently a hostage. They’ll get the police on it.” As his student nods and takes off, Shouta starts walking the other way, looking for the world as though he is calm and sound.
Midoriya starts to run, but after a few steps, he stumbles to a stop. “B-but Mr. Aizawa!” Shouta glances over his shoulder. Midoriya had turned to yell after him, once again looking like a frightened little critter. “How are they going to know where to go?”
Shouta lets the question rest for a moment before he resumes walking. “They’ll figure it out," he mutters into his capture weapon, reaching for his goggles resting just underneath.
-
Toshinori stares at his phone’s cracked black screen sitting a few feet away from him. As he’d suspected, as soon as he sent the messages to Aizawa and Midoriya, the thugs - now visible - snatched the device away and tossed it out of reach. They must’ve been antsy about how long he was taking to write them out. But his admission of being quirkless seems to have chased away any further concerns about his escaping, because they didn’t bother tying him up again.
He really hopes at least one of them figures out what’s happened.
Maybe he should’ve tried to be more specific to Izuku. Toshinori quietly groans as he realizes what kind of panic he’s probably sent the kid into. In combat, Izuku is on par with Todoroki and Bakugou for intuition and analysis, but outside of it, he’s a timid, passionate child that cares too much about the people around him. Receiving a strange, cryptic text from his predecessor out of the blue must be shocking to him. With luck, he’d taken it to someone else. Someone adult, in particular. Despite their reservations about the great All Might, Toshinori wouldn’t doubt that if he phrased things right and put his heart into it, Izuku could convince Bakugou and Todoroki to come to his rescue, and certainly the rest of his class besides.
Toshinori chuckles. He wouldn’t mind watching UA’s best class in years beat down some lowlife crooks but these kids are not only unlicensed, they’ve also dealt with far too much already for how young they are.
He leans back, subtly watching the pair left to guard him in case they let anything slip. Other than glancing his way whenever he moves, neither does much of note. The two thugs are rather unassuming, for better or worse. One has a bear head and large hands and clawed fingers, so his quirk is easy enough to guess at. The other is some sort of artillery quirk, though it’s hard to tell specifically what or how. He has holes set into particular points on his muscular body, for bullets maybe or some other weaponry, hard to know for sure until he sees it in action. Hopefully he won’t need to.
He twists his hands together in his lap. It’s impossible to know the time. That’s obviously intentional, and a common torture and interrogation tactic - give no indication of the time so the human brain can spiral out of control over a ruined circadian rhythm. He’d had a chance to check when he had his phone, but he’d been too focused on how to phrase his messages to Aizawa and Midoriya to really look at it, and by the time he remembered, his phone had been taken. Although he's more or less aware of everything going on, everything being set up around him, Toshinori had to admit that he is not well-versed in how to handle himself in this situation. His instincts itched to stand and throw a punch, but there's no telling what might be done if he attempts to fight, internally and externally. Every passing second is a fight to sit still; it doesn't sit well with him to simply hope for rescue. What kind of hero is he to be forced into compliance by a couple of third-rate crooks that couldn't even attach his name to the right person?
Maybe he’d just have to burn down the clock until he could use his power again. It’s not an ideal option, but it is an option. It might be his only option if Midoriya and Aizawa couldn’t deduce his location quickly enough. Maybe a bad move, considering those colleagues the boss had mentioned earlier would surely know about their successful capture. But it might not be able to be helped. If it came to that, maybe he could find the time to track down whoever had employed these wannabes, wipe his name out of whatever records they had and be done with it.
The door swung open suddenly, with seemingly nobody there, though Toshinori could hear the leader’s ragged breathing and heavy footsteps. “Bastards,” he heard them mutter, along with a few other unsavory words. He heard them pace the front of the room, and glanced at the still-open door. It would be foolish to make a run for it now with no telling when help would be close, but he had the urge anyway. The pacing finally moved, going back and forth on his right side, then behind him, then on his left.
Toshinori stayed carefully straight-faced all the while. Something was wrong. He just needed to know what.
A hand shoots into his hair and pulls his head back. Toshinori grits his teeth against the sudden manhandling. “The hell did you do?!” The invisible leader growls in his ear. Toshinori opens his mouth to answer, except another unseen hand smacks his jaw. “Shut up!” The hand in his hair shoves him away and then retreats, and the footsteps arrive in front of him once again. “Who the fuck did you message?” Toshinori rubs where he was hit as though he hadn’t heard the question. “Because there’s fucking cops all over the neighborhood right now, and I’ve had at least three scouts arrested since I snatched your pathetic ass!”
Toshinori shrugs, but the footsteps are already moving away, stomping over to his forgotten phone and snatching it up. The screen blinks on and the leader growls as they attempt to unlock it. The device is suddenly flying at his head, and Toshinori easily catches it. “Open it!” The leader snarls, “I want to see what you sent.”
He makes a bit of a show out of fumbling with his password and through his contacts, just trying to kill time, except his phone is snatched away again before he can really get into it. He’s fairly sure his messages won’t be too suspicious, though there’s some doubt. These villains were smart enough to hunt down a lot of information on him, after all.
After a long minute or two (or ten, Toshinori can’t tell) of scrolling through messages, the villain growls in clear frustration. They toss his phone back in his work bag and stomp around the room again. “Cannot fucking believe this,” they grumble. “I give those fuckers a single thing to do and they all get caught, like useless, quirkless rejects.”
Okay. Ouch. A little personal. But the way they say the words feels like it’s aimed less at him and more at someone else.
Something rings out that isn’t his phone. A click just to his left tells him that it’s one of the thugs’ instead. “What do you want, we’re busy holding down the captive!” Some indistinct words. “Because the boss said! Now what the hell d’you want?” There’s a faint gasp, then a muffled shout. Then silence. Then a scrape of concrete.
“What I want is for you to know that I’ll be there in less than five minutes.” Toshinori lights up. Aizawa! He can recognize that husky voice anywhere, even over someone else’s phone. “You’re going to let Yagi go quietly. And if you don’t, that’s your problem.” The phone clicks as the call is cut off, and the thug drops it like he’s been burned.
The leader sucks in a sharp breath. “Tie him back up!” They command, and the lackeys quickly do as they’re told, trussing Toshinori’s arms to his sides and hastily throwing the blindfold back over his face, though not without difficulty, since Toshinori struggled this time. Hearing Aizawa's voice was strangely invigorating - he wanted to be able to meet Eraserhead as he approached the room, not be left like a hapless damsel for him to find. The blindfold is on crooked thanks to his squirming, so he can just barely see the bottom third of the opposite wall, including the door. The leader marches over, fisting his hair again, and pulls his head back just as the door slams open, leaving a visible crack in the wall.
He can actually see more with his head pulled back, and he’s quite happy about it. Aizawa looks quite a sight in that dingy doorway, a menacing aura radiating from his very being despite his smaller stature and unassuming build. “I told you what I expect,” He says matter-of-factly, almost like he was speaking to his unruly homeroom students. Toshinori would laugh at the mental picture if his scalp wasn't stinging. “Now are you going to release your hostage or not?”
“Like hell!” The leader hisses. Something cold and sharp presses against Toshinori’s throat. “Get All Might down here, or he can say goodbye to the whelp!” Toshinori knows he’s being stared at through the yellow goggles. He shrugs - as much as he can - and relaxes, to the shock of his captors.
His long dark hair slowly lifts. "With that face, you really need your quirk," Aizawa says suddenly. Toshinori snorts in amusement.
The trio whip their heads around, eventually landing on the leader, now visible - a young adult that can't be older than twenty-five, with short black hair and thin, lanky frame - and the sight of their quirk being erased shocks them enough to drop the serrated knife they’d been holding and release Toshinori. They stumble back, but regain their footing quickly, just in time for Toshinori to slam his head back into their face. It hurts a lot more than it does when he’s powered up, but boy is it just as satisfying. They hold their sluggishly bleeding nose, grunting with the pain.
The distraction is enough for Aizawa to dash forward and kick the leader into the back wall, and as they slump over, his hair drops back over his face and shoulders. The two thugs try to rush him, but Aizawa is expecting the attack - he ducks, rolls forward, allowing the two villains to crash clumsily into each other. He one-eighties, grabbing the two low-ranking thugs by the backs of their shirts, and slams them to the floor with more force than Toshinori thought him capable of.
With a desperate shriek, the leader charges, having recovered and no longer affected by Aizawa’s erasure. Toshinori can hear their footsteps, but he’s still blinded and tied, and they had smartly left the knife on the ground so Aizawa wouldn’t be able to pinpoint their location quite so easily. He can see, just barely through the poorly-applied blindfold, as Aizawa jumps backward, air clawing at his suit as he just barely dodges a blow. The invisible leader continues their frenetic assault, but while Aizawa can’t see them, their every movement echoes off the bare walls of the cell, and he can dodge the unbalanced, unpracticed swipes and kicks with ease.
Aizawa backs up to the doorway, blocking any potential escape. He doesn’t go any further, though. He’s well aware of how much these villains value their hostage (rightfully so), he's aware that they won’t leave without him. The bulky thugs start to shuffle; they’ll be up soon, and Toshinori can see the slight jerk as Aizawa gets his bearings. Eraserhead is known for his underground stealth work - he might not be able to handle these thugs if they can shake themselves off before he gets a grip on their third. The leader of the trio has also recognized their error, and quieted down, now undetectable without the loud footsteps and heavy breaths.
The air is dreadfully still. Even with his vision partially obscured, Toshinori can see the quick thinking behind the inscrutable goggles, and tries to relax, to put his trust in it.
Air brushes past him, just to his right, subtle enough to nearly be undetectable. He means to call out to Aizawa, to give him a direction, to give warning, but instead, Toshinori suddenly coughs. He hacks, body convulsing and revolting from the harsh conditions he's been under for however long now, blood spewing from between his teeth, and he turns to the right, and the blood splatters onto a body. They cry out in disgust, but it’s too late now. Aizawa throws out his capture weapon with practiced precision, wrapping tightly around the unseen body, plus the two on the ground.
Aizawa releases a quiet breath he didn’t intend to hold. He steps forward, gently lifting the blindfold so Toshinori can look up at him. “Was that on purpose?”
“The turn? Yes. The blood-spew? Not really.”
Toshinori doesn't know what to make of the brief silent moment. He almost thinks he's said something inappropriate, though he can't imagine what it would be. Rather than another scathing remark, Aizawa just gives a small sigh. “Come on," Eraserhead says, "Let’s go. Midoriya might tear himself to shreds if we take any longer.”
Toshinori glances down at his bound torso, then back up to Aizawa. “Ok…? I’d love to, so if you could-“ He nearly yelps when Aizawa bodily lifts him in a bridal carry. He has to try not to blush, and judging by the tiny smirk he can just barely see on Aizawa’s face, he doesn’t do a good job of it.
“Don’t worry, sunflower, I’ve got it taken care of.”
Toshinori nearly misses the nickname under all his embarrassment. Nearly.
Toshinori takes note of the path through what appears to be an abandoned underground parking garage. No, not to distract himself from his embarrassment, and not in a futile attempt to stop the blushing he's most certainly not doing, he's just curious. From what he can deduce, his holding place was a modified portion of the elevator shaft, gutted of its metal workings and topped with a low ceiling, clearly added long after the facility's abandonment. Occasionally they pass another unconscious body, neatly propped against a wall or corner, with barely a mark on any of them. The most serious injury he can see on any of them is a faint violet splotch on someone's wrist.
Mercifully, Aizawa puts him back on his own feet before the final exit. He also does the favor of cutting through the rope with the knife the invisibility quirk villain had pulled out earlier, easily sawing through the cheap material. Toshinori can't read his expression buried behind his capture weapon and goggles, but Aizawa seems - as much as he can be - satisfied.
"Tsukauchi will want a pretty detailed statement," Aizawa says, quietly enough that Toshinori wonders if he was supposed to hear.
Toshinori coughs lightly into his right hand, grimacing at the hot spatter of blood. At least it's not the raging fountain he expected. "I need to look through this place myself first." He notices the red glint of Aizawa's eyes behind his goggles and heaves an exhausted sigh. That seems to at least have Aizawa wait before laying into him about bad habits. "They knew my name, and that my name is connected to All Might," Toshinori explains wearily, "But-"
"But they didn't know you are All Might."
"Yeah."
"Don't worry about it." Toshinori tilts his head, confused. Rather than giving an answer, Aizawa nudges the taller man towards the final door, where blinking red and blue lights flash on the opposite side of the glass. "Go." A moment of silence passes, and as Toshinori opens his mouth to protest, Aizawa quickly yanks the door open. "Get out of here. I'll take care of it."
Against all internal screeches to do the opposite of that, Toshinori simply nods, and does as Aizawa tells him.
What a goddamn day...
-
Shouta leans against the wall outside of the main office of the police station, still clad in his hero suit, though his goggles sit comfortably against his throat where they're hidden under his capture weapon. Yagi is inside with Tsukauchi, giving the details about his capture and imprisonment and hopefully wrapping up soon. He'd given them his own written report of what happened about an hour ago, and Nezu and Recovery Girl had asked him to escort his fellow teacher back to the UA campus. Probably so he could catch up on the day he missed by being abducted, but also so the staff could be reassured that he was alright, even if Nezu hadn't said anything explicit in that regard. Merely a cheeky wink and a bright voice merrily informing Shouta, "Well, it simply wouldn't do to have everyone on edge for so long, would it?", which Shouta had begrudgingly agreed with.
He was still mildly against the idea, if only because he had caught glimpses here and there of the ridiculous variety of medication Yagi Toshinori had been prescribed, and was concerned about the last time he took any of it since being kidnapped. Because...that's just...a totally normal, natural, logical observation to make...when working with somebody...
Shouta groans as he throws his head back to smack lightly against the wall. He can't even fool himself anymore. What a ridiculous, sick, obnoxious, ironic, cruel joke this is.
The door to his left opens suddenly. Yagi steps out first, shadowed eyes somehow looking darker than usual, followed shortly by Tsukauchi who had a comforting hand on the number one's back. Shouta observes, silent and unobtrusive, per usual. "I'm so sorry to have worried you all so much," Yagi apologizes, looking like he was guilty of jumping into the villains' arms just to cause all the distress he had (which admittedly wasn't much, but he wouldn't know that). "And I'm sorry for not contacting you at all, Tsukauchi. I should have known better than to contact a student in this instance..."
Shouta rolls his eyes and loudly grunts. "You were pressed for time and needed people to respond quickly." He glances at the pair as they turn to face him and shrugs, closing his eyes nonchalantly. "You're right that it was a bad move to send a text to a student in an emergency, especially one you knew your captors had some amount of information on without knowing the extent." One dark eye peers open to observe the two - Yagi looking guilty and Tsukauchi seeming wryly amused and exasperated at the same time. Shouta closes it again as he kicks off the wall to stand upright. "But, given the circumstances, the abductors probably would have recognized the name Tsukauchi and figured out your intention before anyone could reach you. So I wouldn't say you made a terrible decision." Shouta smirks, but hides it by burying his face in his capture weapon. "Just a really stupid one."
The corner of Yagi's mouth tilts up in a dry smile. "You do like to call me out on those."
Shouta's smirk fades quickly. "Because most people want to make less stupid decisions, not more," He says bluntly. He doesn't add on that he also wants Yagi to make less stupid decisions, and wants Yagi to want to make less stupid decisions. But he's tried to get that across before. He's come to the conclusion that he'd have more success arguing with lead paint on a brick wall, or yelling at the sun to stop rising every morning.
Detective Tsukauchi politely clears his throat to get the heroes' attention. "I'm sorry we took so long, Eraserhead, I know you have instructions to escort Yagi back to UA once he's finished here."
Shouta shrugs. "It wouldn't be very logical to rush you through your work just for the sake of mine. Nezu knows the situation," he adds when Tsukauchi makes a soft noise to voice his confusion.
"Ah. Well, let him know that I appreciate his discretion, when you see him next."
"I will. And, before we go-" Shouta digs into a compartment on his belt, producing a small, innocuous thumb drive that he carefully hands to the detective. "These villains knew the name Yagi Toshinori was connected to All Might, but they didn't know how. I pulled out all the data I could find in their equipment before I left, but it might be worth taking another look before you take your officers out of there."
He pretends not to see the wide-eyed look from Yagi, although that does mean he has to look at a near-identical expression from Tsukauchi. The detective gingerly takes the drive from Shouta's hand, giving the hero a firm nod. "Thank you for this, Eraserhead. I did give orders for our tech team to look through any technology on those premises, but I'll be sure to go through this personally." Tsukauchi turns to Yagi, still rather dumbstruck, though he does twitch towards his old friend when he's spoken to. "Yagi, you have my word that no one will see anything from this drive but me. I'll get it all to you and get your final word on what to do with it before making any decisions myself."
Even if he looks much less imposing the way he is now, it's still startling to see All Might speechless, if only momentarily. Yagi subtly swallows on nothing, Shouta can tell by the gentle bob of his throat, and seems to finally find his words, saying "I'm grateful, Tsukauchi." And, infuriatingly, he seems to find more when he thinks of someone else. "If you could, please keep an eye out for any mention of Midoriya Izuku as well."
Shouta could smack the man. He doesn't, because he knows it won't accomplish anything. He's angry nonetheless.
Tsukauchi graciously doesn't notice the darkening mood from Shouta, and gives a calm smile to Yagi. "Of course. I'll be sure to let you know if I find anything on Midoriya as well, then."
Despite his thinner body, Yagi somehow seems to deflate even further. "Thank you, Tsukauchi, so much." He runs a hand over his face, grumbling quiet nonsense to himself the way Shouta notices he so often does when he's frustrated. Tsukauchi gives one last nod, then ducks back into his office, leaving Shouta and Yagi alone in the darkened hallway. Shouta chances a glance to Yagi. He looks like a walking corpse. More than usual, that is. "I suppose Nezu will want us back as soon as possible," Yagi says, subdued and quiet.
Shouta shrugs as he turns to start making his way out. "No reason to rush. Classes ended an hour ago."
Yagi makes a strangled noise somewhere in his throat while they walk together. "Already?"
"Mmhm. Nezu just wants you back long enough to check in, in case Recovery Girl needs to look at you." Yagi falls into another strangled coughing fit. Shouta just watches, grateful that there's no expelled blood this time.
They fall quietly into step together as they leave the station. Shouta has the feeling that Yagi wants to say something, but he's not inclined to invite the conversation any earlier than he can help it. Thanks to the unusual daytime work, he's drained, and he still has a patrol to run in the evening. He hadn't been able to get out of it, but Nezu had at least convinced his agency to let him walk in later than usual due to the abnormal circumstances. Not that Shouta would take advantage of that lenience. No, he'll report in on time when his patrol starts in three hours, regardless of what he's done during the day. Hizashi will probably throw a fit when he finds out.
Quick running steps approach suddenly, from legs too short to be from any of the on-duty officers. Shouta takes a discreet step to the side so Midoriya can fling himself at his mentor, wrapping his short arms around Yagi's midsection and burying his face into his gut. Shouta barely catches the quiet, pained grunt from Yagi before he returns the hug.
"Ah... Young Midoriya. What are you doing here? Did-"
"I-I'm so sorry! I couldn't help you when you were in trouble!" The kid's arms tighten around Yagi. "I didn't know what else to do other than get Mr. Aizawa, I-I should've done more to help!" Tighter. "But I d-didn't know if you were okay! I couldn't do anything!" Tighter. "P-please, forgive me! I-!"
"Kid, you're gonna pop out whatever organs he has left." Midoriya shoots backward, looking even more distressed, eyes shining with moisture and rimmed with red. Yagi, despite the obvious pain he was being put through with the kid's overzealous embrace, looks like he's wounded when Midoriya leaves him. Shouta easily tamps down the fond squeeze in his chest. Instead of showing it, he steps forward and puts his hand on the boy's shoulder. "You did fine."
"But-"
"But nothing," Shouta says sternly, eyes narrowing at his student. "You figured out what you were being told and got the information to someone who could act on it. That's more than enough." He steps back, taking his hand away, and nods his head towards Yagi as he tries to subtly wipe away the mix of blood and saliva that had escaped from behind his teeth. "Yagi is safe, and the perpetrators are locked up. What else needs to be done?"
As expected, Midoriya still looks downtrodden and guilty. Far too much like his idol. But Shouta can see that he's at least sort of getting through to the boy, because he rubs away the tears from his hopeful emerald eyes, and when he tilts his head back to look at his teacher, he manages a tiny, wet smile. "I...I know. Just..." Shouta just barely avoids rolling his eyes. Rather than saying anything again, he lifts an eyebrow, daring the kid to launch into more self-sacrificial self-loathing. Midoriya, smart boy that he is, realizes what the look means and chuckles nervously. "Just nothing, right. Sorry."
Shouta throws a sidelong glare to Yagi, thinking, It should be your precious mentor apologizing for making you think like this. He hates how much of All Might's suicidal selflessness has rubbed off on the last few generations. Kids get it in their heads that they can be heroes if they just throw themselves into danger without a second thought, assuming that their good intentions will carry them through, and anything that happens to them in the moment is easy to bounce back from, or completely earned.
Glorified martyrdom.
That will probably be the singular dividing line that keeps them from getting any closer to each other. Shouta understands the desperate desire to help the innocent - he wouldn't have become a hero if he didn't - but he isn't willing to enforce the idea that getting yourself killed is just part of the job. Being a hero is dangerous enough as it is without intentionally throwing yourself into situations you shouldn't. Despite their drastically different appearances, Yagi Toshinori and All Might embody the exact opposite sentiment. It's almost like he thinks every quirk user is as infallible and indestructible as himself.
Then again, Shouta thinks as Yagi coughs again, Maybe he never thought that far away from himself. He doesn't know the extent of his colleague's condition, but Shouta does know what self-destructive behavior looks like. He can't imagine what would drive the number one to such a state. He's not sure if he wants to.
An officer approaches, and the thick tension saturating the air seems to melt away in an instant. "Eraserhead, Yagi Toshinori, I'm to provide you with transportation to the UA High School campus," the officer says.
Yagi glances quickly to Midoriya. "I think the boy is in more need of protection," he says, albeit quietly. Shouta wants to be angry with him, even if he agrees.
Midoriya coughs conspicuously, and gives his mentor a reassuring smile when he turns his head. Impressively enough, it seems to work, too; Yagi's shoulders relax when Midoriya speaks up. "The police already assigned someone to keep an eye on me and my mom outside of school." He turns and nods towards an inconspicuously dressed man with dark sunglasses over his eyes, who nods back when he's pointed out. Midoriya flashes his teachers a bright grin, quite reminiscent of another hero's omnipresent smile. "I'll see you tomorrow!" The boy takes off at a light jog, his assigned patrolman waiting a moment before following.
The first officer starts walking in the same direction. "If you'll follow me, sirs, my cruiser is this way."
Shouta and Yagi follow her to the car without any conversation. She doesn't try to engage them in any either, and Shouta feels that he isn't the only one grateful for it. He tries not to, but his gaze is repeatedly drawn to Yagi as they sit quietly in the backseat. The harsh afternoon sunlight makes the shadows of his face impossibly deeper, make his weary expression look somehow more tired and worn out.
He wants to say something. Offer reassurance. But he's never been good at it, too blunt and too unconcerned with softening his words to be any kind of helpful to people in these situations. That was one of the many reasons he liked to remain a relatively unknown underground hero. Hizashi has told him on several occasions that he's about as comforting as a concrete mattress, and Shouta's typical response is that he doesn't need to be comforting, he just needs to do his job well. For maybe the first time, he disagrees with his own words.
What would he even say? Sorry you got kidnapped. Because Yagi clearly wasn't suffering enough from his own self-imposed guilt over that. I'm honored that you chose to reach out to me when you were in need. Too honest. Too close to the truth that Shouta absolutely did not ever intend to reveal. Get over yourself and be happy things worked out the way they did. That would probably lead to Yagi withdrawing further than he already had. That was outright mean, even given Shouta's standard communication skills. At least if Hizashi or Nemuri were around, they could find a way to allow Shouta to say what he felt without being too overt about it. They're much better at that sort of thing.
Thankfully, or maybe not given where his thoughts had turned, the drive to UA was relatively short. The officer patiently waited for the two pros to extricate themselves from the backseat, bid them a safe return to routine, then cautiously pulled back out into the street, towards the station again.
Shouta stands silently on the sidewalk for a long moment, idly watching the mild afternoon traffic rush by. He expected Yagi to make his way to Nezu's office right away, since he'd seemed convinced of some kind of time constraint earlier, but he stands beside Shouta instead, dragging his palm against the back of his neck. Another of those habits he falls into whenever he's nervous.
Nobody else he's talked to has noticed, but Shouta has found an interesting, albeit odd, dichotomy between Yagi and his public persona. Outside of the eye of the media, when he's resting between classes in the teacher's lounge or casually chatting with the other UA staff, he's so...small. Not necessarily in stature, he's still incredibly tall and surprisingly fit for how sickly he appears, but his personality is like that of a shy child. Not unlike his little favorite, Shouta's noted. Midoriya is well-meaning and hard-working, easily one of his best students while still having to put his best effort forth, but whenever Shouta pays attention to the boy interacting with his classmates, he seems afraid of taking up too much space. Like if he speaks too loudly, he might break something. He can overcome that anxiety when he's properly motivated, of course - the Sports Festival had proven that thoroughly.
The pair are so alike, Shouta wonders about their private connection more often than he'd like to. Yagi Toshinori is nearly shy around his fellow teachers, soft-spoken in a way that Shouta had never thought All Might capable. When Shouta levels a bitter remark about his teaching methods at him, Yagi always seems to shrink, trying to escape into the poorly-fitting suits he always wears. So antithetical to the glaring attention-grabber of All Might's appearances, public and otherwise, a big, overly-cheerful, offensive roadblock.
What a mask you wear, Toshinori, Shouta thinks as he glances sidelong at the man, So massive and unignorable that you have no room for yourself, even though you're the one wearing it.
"Come on," Shouta announces suddenly, turning on his heel to walk into the main building. "We've wasted enough time as it is. Recovery Girl will kick both our asses if we don't get you to her office soon."
The blond's strangled voice eventually croaks out, "Right." Just as they did at the station, Yagi and Shouta quietly walk side-by-side through UA's massive central building.
Shouta glances at him every so often. He almost takes an alternative route to the nurse's office, in the hope that it would give Yagi enough time to voice whatever he was thinking. His thoughts are certainly loud enough for their own conversation.
The pair of them are crossing the wide field between the main building and Recovery Girl's place when Yagi finally speaks up. "Ah...Aizawa." Shouta nearly misses it, the soft, hesitant utterance of his name. He turns his head slightly, only enough for Yagi to see that he's listening. "I wanted to thank you. Properly. For what you did today." Shouta shrugs. There's no reason to act like he did some holy act of courage; it was rather irrational, actually, because he'd left his classes in the hands of Present Mic to chase after the innocuous trail he'd been handed. Because for the first time since high school, Shouta let his emotions dictate his actions.
Best not to mention that, though. Nezu certainly has thoughts on it to share whenever he sees the little mammal next, and Shouta is not eager for that. Besides, Yagi is clearly still struggling with his own response to the whole thing.
"And I want to...to apologize." That makes Shouta stop dead. Yagi continues a few steps ahead before slowing, as he realizes that Shouta is no longer beside him. He doesn't turn to face Shouta. "So ridiculous," Yagi mutters to himself. "I'm sorry that I couldn't-"
"Stop." Shouta ignores the stiff jerk. He takes a few steps forward until he's standing beside Yagi again, facing him, although the taller man refuses to look at him. "It wasn't an average hostage situation," Shouta explains slowly, even pulls his capture weapon down to ensure his words are unimpeded. "The villains had delicate information, and we don't know if they managed to pass it along to anyone else. You couldn't have just smashed your way out without risking your identity." Which seemed self-explanatory. Surely Yagi already knew that.
Based on his sudden, awkward silence, he did know. Those bright electric blue irises slid over to Shouta. "That isn't worth risking your life over," he grumbles. "I should have taken care of it, if I can't even handle some third-rate amateur villains, then..."
Ok, this spiral needs to stop. Shouta storms forward and turns, forcing Yagi to face him dead-on, and reaches up to push his dark, tangled mess of hair away from the right side of his face. The full-body flinch tells him that Yagi knows exactly what he's about to say. "You see this." No need to point it out, because Shouta has caught Yagi staring at the crescent-shaped scar under his right eye more than a few times since his bandages have finally come off.
Yagi nods, throat bobbing.
"I get to see it every time I look in a mirror. A reminder of the time I couldn't help myself, or the students I'm meant to care for."
"A-Aizawa, that wasn't your-"
"It doesn't matter," Shouta snaps. Because it doesn't. Nomu or no, ambush or no, outnumbered or not...he had failed in his duty. Circumstances be damned. He lets his hair fall back over his face, but he doesn't let his intense gaze falter. "I'm reminded of it every day, reminded that I failed as a hero." A beat of silence passes, heavy tension settled in the air. Shouta finally blinks, rubbing at his chronically dry eyes. Recovery Girl was going to be on his ass about using his quirk as much as he had today. "Stop pretending you're some kind of god. I'm sure you're the closest thing to it, but just let it go. This once." His voice cracks at the end of that sentence. "You're allowed to be helped," Shouta adds quietly, but he hopes Yagi doesn't hear.
It's one thing to be openly critical of someone promoting self-sacrificing as the highest honor a hero can achieve, it's another to show the tiny, spider-webbing cracks in his carefully crafted shell that widen and spread the longer he spends with Yagi. The cracks showing that bloody, scarred child underneath it all. Nobody wants to see that side of him.
Shouta glances up. He'd half-expected Yagi to blow up into All Might and tell him off, or maybe that was just his own wishful thinking. Gods only know that the man deserves to be angry for a change. Instead, he stares down at Shouta, one arm wrapped around his middle while the other rubs across the back of his neck. He's thinking about Shouta's words, which is more than he'd expected. Maybe he could get through to him, still.
"I..." Shouta's eyes narrow. He's liable to snap if Yagi tries to toss himself into more debasing reproach. "...Thank you." Those two words, spoken so softly, so carefully, so un-All Might-ish, are convincing enough to allow Shouta to relax. "I know you asked me to let it go, but..." Shouta tilts his head, patiently waiting for Yagi to finish. "I would like to make this up to you. N-not just the rescue," he adds quickly when Shouta's glare begins to sharpen, "For what you said. What you just said," Yagi corrects himself gently. His arms drop to his sides, but his hands still clench and unclench repetitively.
Shouta rolls his eyes. "If you want to make it up to me, then stop trying to beat yourself up for what other people do." He turns slowly and resumes walking towards Recovery Girl's office. As Yagi catches up (those damn long legs of his), Shouta risks a glance over. "And you could get me some coffee while I talk to Nezu." He refuses to acknowledge the color rising to his face when Yagi grins down at him.
"I can do that."