Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first thing Shouta did when he heard the news (Nedzu had wisely chosen to email him so that he wouldn't have to deal with his pleas for mercy) was buy as much coffee as he could reasonably carry. A part of him wanted to weep as the cashier gave a discreet double-take at the amount of caffeine and pills he had handed to her.

That feeling of instinctual dread, of sensing that his suffering was a guarantee for the immediate future, had not alleviated as he entered UA the next day, the enormous building swallowing him up and leading him to his impending doom.

"Listen up," he announced to 1-A when everyone had settled down, ignoring the confused or concerned glances. He was sure he looked like a wreck, but he doubted his students would focus on that with the next piece of news. "We're going to be having some very special guests arriving in two days. I want you all on your best behavior. Absolutely no funny business. They're from…" he sighed. "...Yokohama."

Silence. In those few seconds, one could have heard a pin drop.

"Wait, like Yokohama Yokohama?!"

"Is it the Armed Detective Agency?"

"They're actually coming to Musutafu?"

"It's too early for this shit—"

Shouta glared, absentmindedly activating his Quirk to keep Bakugou from blowing his desk sky-high— again. "See? This is what I'm talking about. And yes, Midoriya, it's several members of the Armed Detective Agency. Do you all want them to treat you like kids, or Heroes in training?"

That thankfully sobered the class up, although the anticipation hadn't faded for those who knew of Yokohama. Midoriya still made an attempt to discreetly pull what was most likely a fresh notebook from his bag, but reluctantly decided to cease his efforts for the time being when a withering glare was shot his way.

"They'll be with us for at least a week, so don't make yourselves look like fools," he continued, sending a pointed look at Bakugou, who scowled but didn't speak further, and to Mineta, who flushed and lowered his gaze.

Iida raised a hand. “Pardon me, Aizawa-sensei. What business does the Armed Detective Agency have in UA? Are they not Yokohama-based Heroes?”

Shouta chewed on his words, considering how much would be alright to tell the kids. He had yet to be notified by Nedzu as to exactly why that group had not only been called to Musutafu, but to UA specifically. All he knew from the brief email that had been shot his way was that the Hero Commission had been frothing at the mouth from the recent scandal, a framing as it turned out to be, and that the Agency was required for a “screening,” or else the Commission would find them to be inadequate as Yokohama’s one line of defense against the Port Mafia and do everything in their power to suspend their license to operate. It made little sense to Shouta. After all, the Agency was in reality an independent investigation unit with special permission for Quirk usage. Technically not Heroes or part of the Hero Commission.

He said, “They’re here for testing to renew their Quirk licenses. They’re not exactly mainstream, but I’m willing to bet at least one of you—” Midoriya let out a nervous chuckle. “—has heard the news about them recently.”

The class was silent again. It had not even been a month since the school had held a special seminar detailing the contingencies should a Hero or group of Heroes go rogue, prompted by the Commission as a result of the shocking news that Yokohama’s beloved Armed Detective Agency were in reality vicious murderers. It had thankfully turned out to be a fluke (though how even bureaucrats could cause such a misunderstanding was beyond Shouta), but at the time it had shaken everyone, staff and students alike. Security had been heightened and news reporters were briskly ushered away from the school premises while the teachers spent hours after classes deciding on a plan of action should the Agency even come within shouting distance of Musutafu and their kids.

In hindsight, this was going to be an awkward week or two.

“I’ll remind you that all charges against the Armed Detective Agency were dropped and deemed to be the result of framing. I expect you to treat them with as much respect as you would any other Hero, and be mindful of what you say. They’ve been through a lot.”

Not that Shouta was worried about Class 1-A harassing their colleagues from Yokohama. They were all good kids and excellent students. But they were still children, and kids were naturally curious and tended not to mince their words as well as they should. The last thing he needed was Bakugou threatening murder or Ashido trying to get gossip out of these people.

"For the time being, they’re going to assist in our upcoming lessons. You’ll be learning about organized crime and the grand world of politics.”

Groans immediately erupted, and Shouta nearly rolled his eyes. “Don’t be like that. Yokohama is one of the most corrupt cities in our country thanks to the Port Mafia. Due to their connections, the Hero Commission can't arrest or even profile most of them. You’re going to learn what it means to fight an organization like that, criminals you can’t beat into submission."

A beep from his phone. Shouta couldn’t say he was surprised at the sudden call from the principal. What a bother, but at least maybe now he would get some actual answers regarding their guests, who were more unknown to Shouta now than when he had feared facing them as the villains they had been labeled as not so long ago. “Textbooks, pages thirteen to twenty-five. I'm heading up, so don't cause a ruckus.”

He supposed that he couldn't fault his students for their excitement. It was something new. The city the Armed Detective Agency resided in, hell, the Agency itself, was held by most of Japan in an almost mythic light. There were areas in their country where the Hero System and Quirk Laws worked differently as a result of local customs. Yokohama, however, was isolationist in its stark refusal to follow the norm, a tradition which had allegedly begun far back during the dawn of Quirks. While Japan had one of the highest Quirk rates in the world, Yokohoma had somehow managed to avoid them like the plague. It might have been due to this that the culture surrounding powers there was apparently so different. Shouta hadn't been there himself, but he recalled a colleague telling him how they supposedly still used the term "Ability," something common in some parts of the world but completely archaic in Japan. It would be fairly interesting to see them try to adjust to Musutafu, if nothing else.

Still, even underground Heroes had only limited success there, and he had yet to hear of anything good come out of that city among his colleagues. Which was why he was dreading this as much as he did.

As it turned out, Shouta had not been called to an informational meeting as he had guessed. Their guests had arrived earlier than expected, and Nedzu had deemed now as good a time as any to introduce them to the rest of UA’s humble staff.

One after the other, they shuffled into the faculty room. An older man led them, his face firmly carved into a grim expression which narrowly avoided being a scowl. Trade the robes for a uniform and he wouldn't look out of place running a boot camp. With his rigid stance and tall form, he possessed an undeniable air of authority.

"Principal Nedzu," President Yukichi Fukuzawa greeted in a rumbling voice. "A pleasure, as always."

"The pleasure is all mine. I'll be honest, I didn't expect you to accept my invitation!" Nedzu's eyes gleamed. "Or did I?"

"He did," said a man in detective clothing, who was lingering in the back while casually unwrapping what looked to be some sort of candy. "Do I get a prize for guessing right? We ran out of donuts on the way here, by the way."

Wow. Shouta disliked him already.

He hardly dwelt on the ensuing pleasantries, catching a “please take care of us” and a “Midnight, won’t you show them around?” His focus instead was drawn to the Agency members themselves. While the young woman carrying a doctor’s bag chatted up Nemuri, the detective kid continued to wax poetic about himself to Nedzu. A girl who could not have been older than fourteen stood stock-still at the end of their group beside a nervous-looking young man. A redhead was having a quiet conversation with a young freckled boy who looked like he’d walked right out of one of Eri’s farmhouse picture books. One man had apparently noticed him and purposefully stared right back with comically-wide eyes, at least until his colleague slapped him upside the head.

All of them besides the President looked far younger than he had expected, several enough so that they could easily blend into UA’s student body or his own class. Shouta suppressed a flinch at the reminder that these kids had been made to run from the authorities during their time as declared criminals.

“Do you mind seeing me in my office later?”

He snapped back to attention just as people began to trickle out of the room. Nedzu had addressed him.

The principal had already turned back to the President, the detective boy having skirted off already. "Please, have a cup of tea with me this evening. For old times' sake?"

The Director nodded, turning to his remaining entourage. "All of you, go and rest. Try not to disrupt any classes when you’re in the hallways. This is a school," he said. Shouta didn't miss the look of the white-haired boy at those words, which looked to be a cross of worried distress and hardened resignation.

What were the odds that the detectives would be normal people, his own brats would behave themselves, and no one would suffer grievous physical or psychological harm by the end of this visit?

“Heeeey, Kunikida! I bet a school like this has lots of dangerous gadgets!” A jovial voice echoed in the hallway.

The response was full of the conditioned sort of anger only one used to dealing with children could recognize. “If you even consider trying to off yourself at a high school, I will personally ensure you live through it just so I can send you to the afterlife myself.”

By his luck? Zero.

“Welcome, welcome!” Nedzu greeted cheerfully as Shouta sank into a chair. He gestured to his mug. “Tea?”

“No thanks,” he said. “You needed something?”

The principal clasped his paws, waiting for him to be fully settled. That was a red flag right there, and Shouta immediately wanted to leave.

“I need a bit of a favor,” Nedzu began. If Shouta hadn’t known him for so long he might have seemed apologetic. “Tell me, what was your first impression of the Agency?”

First impression? He shrugged. “They seem decent. A bit eccentric, but that’s normal for our line of work.”

“I see, I see,” Nedzu paused, apparently contemplating something. “What do you make of the recent scandal?”

“A shame,” he paused and chuckled lightly. “Might be me getting old and sentimental, but most of them aren’t too far from my students’ age. And two of them are…”

“Kenji Miyazawa and Kyouka Izumi are both fourteen.”

“Pretty young, yeah. What do you think?”

“If it were up to me, I’d rather not have them on the field,” Nedzu sighed, gazing down at his tea. “But it isn’t. Yokohama is quite the intriguing city, and the Agency is no exception. I think their reputation speaks for that.”

The Armed Detective Agency was virtually unknown among civilians in their part of the country, but the Hero community regarded them as the face of Yokohama's law and security. An image of debatable accuracy considering some of the rumors of their favored methods, which were considered highly efficient but also questionable by current standards (read: pulling some incredibly shady shit). They essentially seemed to be a Hero Agency-like group that dabbled in vigilante tactics. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing in and of itself, but Shouta wasn’t sure how much they could teach the kids with how closely monitored Musutafu-based Heroes were by both the press and wider public.

Talks had purportedly been around since the beginning of the Agency to shut the entire organization down, but they had been given a blind eye many times if only because they had done a fine job of dealing with the local mafia group that had its claws hooked in every part of Yokohama and beyond. Villainous organizations as well-put-together as the Port Mafia weren't common nowadays, and the fact that they had by some miracle managed to nab a permit allowing them to conduct several of their operations legally several years back only further complicated things. Just another result of the city's bizarre local politics that made it seem as if it were cut out of a completely different world.

“What did you call me for?” Shouta refrained from tapping his foot, but he needed to get back to 1-A.

“I’ll be frank,” Nedzu said. “I want you to keep an eye on them.”

“...Why?”

UA’s principal looked him dead in the eye, a rare look of absolute seriousness on his face. “Aizawa, you are the only Underground Hero of your caliber that we have employed here at UA. Do not discuss this with any of the other students or faculty. This information is currently on a strictly need-to-know basis, and considering the skill of the Agency, the less there is to clue them off the better.”

The bridge of Shouta’s nose was starting to ache in a way that only came around when he knew the foreseeable future wasn’t going to be pleasant, the stress already rooting itself into his cranium and pounding the inside of his skull. On the outside, Shouta was still. Something had sprouted up between Nedzu and Yokohama, and if there was a restriction on information then it couldn’t be anything good.

“As you know, the Armed Detective Agency, despite having little to no professional ties with the Hero Commission, is here for an evaluation following allegations of corruption."

“But that was disproved.”

“The particular accusation of murder, yes.”

"...Then I’m guessing that isn't the only thing they've gotten wrapped up in?" Shouta muttered.

"Correct,” Nedzu nodded, stirring his tea with an unreadable expression. “You're no doubt aware of the Special Abilities Department's involvement in Yokohama?"

Of course. If the Hero Commission acted as a military unit for the government to capture and incarcerate villains, then the Special Abilities Department were the elusive brains behind that brawn. Uptight, shady as hell, and unfortunately possessing the power to overturn nearly any decision made by the Commission due to being an official suit-and-hat branch of the government.

"What do they have to do with this?" he asked, although he already had an inkling of an answer.

Nedzu linked his paws together, sighing. “It is the Hero Commission’s belief that the S.A.D. has been covering up incidents in Yokohama, especially as of late.”

“What? Yokohama’s always been shady,” Shouta pointed out. A seedy coastal city whose stark refusal to accept the Hero System had led to it becoming a breeding ground for the scum of the earth, one of the only places remaining in Japan where an organization like that could safely function and recruit. The stories he’d heard of this one city alone never failed to baffle him. He didn’t plan on ever visiting, and it was no surprise to him that the detectives who basically acted as its only Heroes were a weird bunch as well. Being on the run while framed for murder aside. Either way, corruption was far from out of the question, but he didn’t see what he had to do with it. Sniffing out foul play was a job that typically went to the police, not Heroes.

Nedzu chuckled. “I can’t argue with that, Aizawa. But that isn’t what I’m referring to. While Yokohama has always been an area somewhat out of our jurisdiction, the higher-ups have as of late have been barred from even seeking out information on recent significant events.”

“The Mist Incident?”

“Among others. The lack of any knowledge on our part is concerning. The city has been all but completely isolated, and the only two legal powers outside of local law enforcement are the Agency and the government. We also have yet to obtain a casualty report of deaths caused by criminal activity, although I personally think the Mafia is to blame for that,” Nedzu poured himself another cup of steaming tea, blowing on its surface. “...For now, I'd simply like you to keep a closer eye on the Detective Agency. If we’re lucky, the Commission’s suspicions are paranoia and nothing else."

“And if they aren’t?”

“Then we’ve got all our staff and Musutafu's Heroes on standby,” Nedzu answered. “While I disapprove of them sending the Agency to UA of all places for gauging if they are a threat to peace, I’m sure your class is interested.”

“Are the students safe?”

“The Department’s little hijinks aside, if I truly thought the Agency itself was a threat and not simply the target of nervous bureaucrats, I would not let them take a single step into this school even with the Commission demanding so,” Nedzu huffed, seeming almost offended at the question. “And I respect Fukuzawa.”

“You’ve met.”

“Several times. He’s a man of character, that one. As long as nothing goes too horrifically wrong, chances are high that the Agency will stay for a week or two and leave with their licenses, and none of us will be worse for the wear.”

“That’s it?” Nedzu’s excuse, while not seeming to be a lie, felt strangely lacking.

Nedzu cleared his throat. “Seeing them duke it out with the kids may be a dream of mine.”

“Ah. I see.”

Of course. Damn manipulative geniuses.

“So keep an eye on professional detectives without them clueing in. Simple,” Shouta muttered more to himself than anyone else. Nedzu’s smile was just a tiny bit apologetic this time.

He suddenly remembered a saying uttered among his fellow underground Heroes whenever something related to the city came up: "What happens in Yokohama, stays in Yokohama."

Shouta hoped dearly that whatever messes the Agency got into would interfere with his own life as little as possible. It would make his job a hell of a lot easier.

"Hey, Midoriya, what do you know about these guys?" Kaminari asked as he poked his classmate to no avail. Alas, Izuku Midoriya was lost to the world, having transformed into a terrifying shadow of his former self. He was scribbling into his notebook with an intensity that only reared its head when the boy was either on the brink of death, or worse, severely lacking in notes on whatever Hero he had chosen to obsess over at the time.

"It's not that big a deal," Bakugou answered instead, to everyone's surprise. He twitched an eye, but his voice came out relatively even. "They're Heroes who told the H.C. to stick it. Practically have Yokohama to themselves. Don't you idiots watch the news?"

"What do you know about them, Bakugou?" Uraraka asked.

“I’m not the walking Hero encyclopedia,” he snarked.

That got Midoriya’s attention, and he spoke up. “The Armed Detective Agency actually aren’t officially considered ‘Heroes’ outside of Yokohama, where they’re the only active agency.”

“But why?” Tsuyu asked with a tilt of her head. “My parents went to Yokohama once, and it’s huge. Shouldn’t there be more Heroes?”

“To my knowledge, that city’s local laws are what prevent it,” Iida interrupted. “They’ve used their status as the ‘Quirkless City’ as a sort of justification to keep the Hero Commission out...which is foolish, considering its reputation. My brother called it a gangster’s paradise.”

The Port Mafia was infamous, and Yokohama’s confusing laws had given them loophole after loophole to avoid capture. No police department investigated them and came out unscathed, no Hero could touch them while they nested in the ‘Quirkless City.’ No one but the Armed Detective Agency, who were just as mysterious to many outsiders. It was only to be expected that Midoriya was absolutely ecstatic, was the general opinion of those with any knowledge on the subject.

They were not disappointed, as Midoriya exclaimed, “They specialize in information recovery and solving incredibly difficult crimes normal law enforcement can’t, so they’re really unique among agencies! But there’s no merchandise for them at all…” he trailed off.

“I can only hope they prove themselves to be respectable,” Iida sighed. “I’ve heard from my brother. The Armed Detective Agency’s reputation is…not great among Heroes,” he paused. “Even before the recent incident, I mean.”

Iida didn’t press that line of thought further, but doubt made itself apparent on his face. Whatever Tensei Iida had told his younger brother would not be so easily dispelled from his mind.

Regardless, the whole class quickly became abuzz with excitement. Getting to meet Yokohama’s famed Agency was something new, Heroes who did not operate under the restrictions and laws that had permeated their entire lives.

It was when the time came for introductions (in which Class 1-B was forced to pile into their classroom, much to many’s chagrin) that awe gave way to near-disappointment. For one, several of the Agency members were their age or even younger, so these could not be the veteran crime-fighters they had been hoping for. Another reason was their appearance. The Armed Detective Agency in their home city were quite the eccentric-looking people, but by Musutafu standards they were quite plain, neither sporting the flashy Hero gear they were used to nor having visible mutations. Osamu Dazai had wrapped himself in bandages (when asked if this was due to his Quirk, he immediately corrected the assumption by claiming it was “for the aesthetic”), and Atsushi Nakajima had eyes like a sunset, but that was it for any particularly unique traits.

There was a certain culture shock at the reveal that no, they did not have Hero costumes, yes, they beat up villains in their work clothes, they were actually quite breathable, thank-you-very-much.

Shouta watched this all from his desk, leaning back in his chair and appearing to lull himself into a nap. Shame he couldn’t exactly break out the sleeping-bag now. A person not looking for it would not have clued in on the rigidity of his crossed arms, the clarity in his seemingly tired eyes.

He believed in giving the benefit of the doubt to some extent, but he was a piss-poor practitioner of it. As long as there was even a one-percent chance that these people, even through their presence alone, could bring harm to his students, he would continue to stay on his guard. You could never be too careful in the Hero field—

Wait. Where had Edogawa Rampo gone? He could have sworn—

As if on cue, a shout and a crash erupted from the hallway. A few seconds later and the door was gently nudged open. Nakajima at least had the decency to give him an apologetic smile.

“I got lost,” Rampo said from behind a stack of crooked boxes. When Shouta was unable to respond, he held them out to the class. “Donut?”

Chapter Text

Hello everyone. I am very surprised by the numbers this has done over the years, and I thank you. Perhaps it's needless to say, but I will not be continuing this story. I just wished to add this for closure's sake as I still get the occasional comment.

This being my first serious attempt at a published multi-chapter fic, I admittedly was not very thick-skinned when I was younger, so I ended up losing motivation when I saw a couple of comments that I was not prepared to deal with. The tribulations of youth, haha. I came back to this later on to continue, and I do have some more written, but I don't think that I'd be able to provide a decent experience as someone who has fallen out of both fandoms and is prioritizing other things, so I decided that officially ending it here instead of stringing along is the best course of action.

Apologies for those who waited for a continuation. But I will keep this up, so please enjoy it as a one-shot. Thank you.