Chapter Text
“True.” Naomasa announced, writing in his notebook once more. It checks out. When Aizawa was almost flung through a wall it didn't feel like normal telekinesis.
In fact, it felt like the world had shifted. His guts pushed back towards his spine, his neck yanking backwards. He hadn’t thought about how odd it was at the time as he’d been focused on not dying.
A soft hand taps Aizawa’s back. Glancing sideways, he made eye contact with Hizashi. There was a crease in his brow as he gently motioned his head towards the teen. Chuuya hadn’t moved much since the interrogation started, yet looking closer the kid seemed to be unusually stiff.
His leg bounced at an unnaturally quick pace, his fists had curled into tight balls. Squinting, Aizawa could even make out a slight dash of red leaking beneath his fingertips.
It makes sense for the kid to be stressed. Anyone would be in his situation. Yet, one look in Chuuya’s eyes confirmed that stress wasn't the whole story.
Rage. Barely restrained rage, like a bull ready to charge.
“How old are you?” Hizashi perked up at the question, quickly glancing between Aizawa and the kid.
“15.”
..The same age as some of the students. To think a kid so young could defeat some of the world’s best heroes. Terrifying..
Naomasa cleared his throat, flipping to the next page in his notepad. “Who are your parents and do you have a means to contact them?”
“I never met them.” Chuuya doesn’t sound sad when saying this. It’s cold, maybe a little bitter. Naomasa doesn’t bother confirming his answer. None of the heroes really expected the teen to have present parents anyway.
“Ok. Who currently takes care of you? Do you live with someone?” To this Chuuya’s brow furrowed in discomfort. He diverted his eyes to the table for a second before locking back on the detective.
“I take care of myself and whoever I live with is none of your business.” Again, Aizawa had already assumed the kid took care of himself. In the little time he’d known the boy he got the impression the kid didn’t like relying on others. Yet, his sudden defensiveness was strange. He was clearly living with someone. Not a guardian, nor a caretaker, but someone he felt was worth protecting. Interesting.
“That’s fine.” Naomasa didn’t press. The redhead was understandably defensive from the get-go and it would be best to avoid stressing over less pressing matters. “Since you’re able to support yourself I imagine you have a job. What do you do for a living?”
“I guard things.” Real specific. It made sense on a baseline level. When Aizawa had first arrived he’d been sitting on a roof for seemingly no reason. It would make complete sense for him to be guarding something below. That being said, being a simple security guard wouldn’t have led him to be Mt.Lady’s killer. Plus.. Aizawa had a feeling Yokohama would put someone with Chuuya’s power to better use.
“True, but there’s more to it. For example, I think you were paid to kill Mt.Lady.” Noamasa’s pen taped across his notepad for emphasis. Normally, interrogating kids was far easier. Teens especially get carried away, saying more than needed to try and justify their still developing brains. Yet, Chuuya was different. Careful, trained. He needs something to get him talking.
“So what, a paycheck is a paycheck.” Chuuya murmurs, bitterness creeping through his words. There was a shift as the redhead slid a little down his chair, gaze directed to his hands as he fiddled with the metal cuffs.
“That's a shame. I didn't think you were the kind of person to throw away your humanity for money.” Heterochromic eyes widen as Chuuya stares intensely at his hands. It seems Noamasa hit a nerve as the kid goes still.
Then, after a moment of tense silence, the dam breaks. The cuffs slam on the table as the kid stands, looming over the detective.
“How fucking dare you! You don't know me. You don't know what it's like to be hungry! You don't know what it's like to live in the slums! You sit here in your fancy fucking tie preaching your own set of mortals without a care in the fucking world. Well, guess what princess!? People– children –are starving!” Chuuya inhaled sharply, staring down at Noamasa as the surrounding onlookers grew tense. “Mt.Lady or whatever the fuck her name is, was stupid enough to break into Yokohama. Sure, I killed her, but she signed the death warrant."
Aizawa watched as the boy slumped back into the chair, bloody handprints left on the table from his seeping palms. No one moved or spoke, the kid staring at his own trembling knee.
“Why don't we leave it at that..” Hizashi spoke up, gently approaching the table. “It’s been a long day and I’m sure Chuuya is exhausted.”
“Ya. That’s ok. We can continue on a later date.” Noamasa stood, hands slightly shaking as he turned off the recorder. “Take care.”
The detective quickly left, his police officers following close behind. Soon only the two heroes and the teen remained.
Chuuya still remained unmoving, his hands resting palms up on his knees. “Im not a fucking monster..” he whispered under his breath.
Aizawa gets the feeling he wasn’t talking to them, yet he responds anyway. “We know.”
Maybe this kid has something left to save afterall.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
The walk to Chuuya’s new room wasn’t long. It was on the top floor in an extra room Nezu once used as his lab.
Although Hizashi had never seen the place in person, he’d heard that it had be turned into a room for the teen, fueling his excited rambling as the trio made their way up the stairs.
“Are you excited to see your new room? It’ll probably be a bit bland but we can buy some posters and decorations to liven it up! Are you into any bands?”
Chuuya stared at the blonde with a blank look. “I don't know. Feel’s weird to decorate a cell.”
To this Hizashi sighs “Oh don't be like that. It’s not a cell unless you think of it as one.” Just then they approach a door with a huge padlock sealing the handle to the frame. Aizawa swiftly unlocks it, swinging the door open to reveal the horrid room.
Bars on the window, cameras on each corner. There was even a series of detectors around the bathroom door, a timer labeled “15 minute max” on the outside.
Chuuya looks at the blonde incredulously, “If it looks like a prison cell, chances are it’s a fucking prison cell.”
“You killed a pro hero.” Aizawa speaks gruffly, yet doesn’t sound as harsh as before. “It’ll take more than a tragic past to earn everyone’s trust. Just be grateful you're being given the opportunity to improve instead of being sent to an actual prison.”
“The opportunity to improve?” Chuuya glares, the cuffs clinking as he shifts to face the pro. “The fuck you talking about? I got kidnapped and questioned I-”
“Hey, hey, hey” Hizashi steps between the redhead and his partner “You’ll have a meeting with the principal tomorrow. He’ll explain everything then. For now, focus on resting.” He then pivots, coming face to face with Aizawa. “And you! Stop provoking the kid, he’s had a long and stressful day.”
“Im not a kid.” The redhead huffs, pushing roughly past the pro couple and into the room. He glanced around before plopping on the bed, again glaring towards the heroes with all his might.
Intimidation aside, Hizashi approaches. Bending in front of the kid, he gently unlocks the handcuffs. “I know you probably feel overwhelmed, but remember, we’re here to help you.” The cuff clink once more before falling to the ground. “Ill talk to Nezu about getting rid of some of the cameras. Then, I’ll see about getting you some posters!”
Smiling kindly, Hizashi leaves the room. With kids like Chuuya it’s best not to push it. Plus, he could have sworn he caught a hint of a smile tracing the redhead’s face.