Chapter Text
Aizawa strolls into the main administrative office of the hero commission with his full Eraserhead gear on, goggles down, his capture weapon piled up almost to his nose, and informs the secretary behind the front desk that he’s there to see the people responsible for Shinsou Hitoshi.
“Shinsou Hitoshi?” the secretary echoes, wrinkling their nose as they key it into the computer at their desk. “I don’t seem to be finding that name on our system.” Of course not.
“Whoever is in charge of undercover operations, then,” Aizawa says with a controlled deadpan. He had considered coming in from the rooftop and letting himself into someone’s office upstairs uninvited, but is at least trying the usual routes first before he resorts to such extremes. Retain the moral high ground and all.
“I’m sorry, sir but that information is classified,” the secretary tells him, and it’s not their fault. Oh well, Aizawa tried to do things nicely.
“No problem. Thanks for your help,” Aizawa tells them, pulling out his phone and walking to the side of the glamorous, egotistically decked-out lobby of the hero commission’s base of operations. He dials and presses call, only a few rings in before the phone picks up.
“Aizawa, to what do I owe the pleasure? I hadn’t expected to hear from you until Monday,” Nezu greets jovially.
“Shinsou Hitoshi,” Aizawa says without any other introduction, and there’s a pregnant silence on the other end of the line. “I need to know who’s responsible for him at the commission.”
“Oh.” Nezu seems admirably unsurprised for Aizawa to bring back the name that barely left his mouth for a year about four years ago. “And what reason would you have for wanting such information?” Nezu sounds pretty neutral, though Aizawa doesn’t doubt for a second that he has far more of a clue about this than he’s letting on. Can point Aizawa in the right direction, hopefully.
“Because he’s not going to work for them anymore,” Aizawa delivers with an impressive amount of control, given how much directionless fury he could unleash on his employer if he wanted to, since Nezu had his part in this too. Instead he keeps it to a manageable, “I’d like to think you’re more moral than willingly overlooking a child being pimped out since middle school for the so-called greater good, but go ahead and surprise me.”
There’s another loaded silence, which Aizawa can’t really read into. Nezu would have known about Shinsou being an undercover agent when he was placed at UA, but if he has any integrity then he wasn’t aware of just how badly Shinsou was being exploited. If that’s the case, this would be his chance to make amends for that oversight in his otherwise faultless insight and intellect. If he knew all along, this would be the point where he’d try to stop Aizawa from parting the commission with one of their best pets.
“I assume you are there already?” Nezu asks cannily, never to be less than several steps ahead of the game.
“Just tell me where to go,” Aizawa replies with a glimmer of hope.
“The last representative of undercover operations at the commission had had contact with was a Mr. Orochi, whose office was on the sixteenth floor, room 1607 if I recall correctly.” Which he would, of course. It’s not in Nezu’s nature to misremember things, except those he deliberately chooses to. Aizawa is relieved more than he can say by this response, because he doesn’t know what he’d do if Nezu had gone the other way. “I realise that it is insignificant now, Aizawa, but I am sorry that I wasn’t able to assist more in your search for Shinsou in the past. Your suspicions were clearly well-founded.”
“If we’re splitting hairs, then you shouldn’t have allowed it in the first place,” Aizawa can’t resist pointing out, not that it helps them now. When they offered Nezu a child soldier as a solution to UA’s problem, his answer should have been fuck no, but if it was, then Shinsou and Aizawa would’ve never met at all, so Aizawa can’t begrudge it too much.
“Perhaps, but one must choose one’s battles with this particular adversary,” Nezu remarks indifferently, and Aizawa knows not even Nezu can get his way with these bastards as much as he’d like. “I had thought exposure to the UA environment might be good for someone like young Shinsou.” True, although not that the commission let it go far enough to do Shinsou any real good. Not like he’s quite so young anymore, either. They couldn’t have known, unfortunately, and it’s all in the past now. “Let me know if I can be of any further assistance.”
“I will. Bye.” Aizawa hangs up and sees himself over to the stairwell, watched by the secretary but not actually stopped. Not that it’d work.
Sixteen flights of stairs to run up is a good way to burn off extra anger, and gives Aizawa time to prepare his thoughts before he finds the office Nezu told him and opens the door without knocking.
There’s a man in a suit behind the desk who looks up in shock at Aizawa barging through his door with a splutter of, “Who, what the–”
“You work in undercover operations?” Aizawa asks the paper-pusher calmly.
“That’s not– you can’t just barge in here–”
“I can,” Aizawa interjects boredly, as evidenced by his literally being here without anyone stopping him. “I’m here to talk about Shinsou Hitoshi. If you don’t deal with him then get me someone who does.”
The man just stares at Aizawa for a moment, maybe contemplating if he’s for real, or what to tell him. His eyes slowly narrow before he says, “You are?”
“Eraserhead,” Aizawa confirms stoically. “I’m here to inform the comission that Shinsou Hitoshi will no longer be working for you, and although I don’t actually give a fuck if you know about this or not, it’ll be easier on Shinsou if you lot leave him alone, so I thought I’d stop by to deliver the news in person.”
The guy who may or may not be Orochi stares at Aizawa for a moment or two more, then picks up the phone on his desk and dials an internal number. “Hello, sorry to disturb you, but I’ve got an… Eraserhead down here talking about Shinsou Hitoshi. Thought you might want to kno– yes. I’ll tell him to wait.”
He puts the phone down and opens his mouth to speak to Aizawa, who cuts him off again with, “I’ll wait right here, thanks,” and the bureaucrat’s mouth closes again.
They wait, in silence, for a few minutes, until another little suited ratbag to come into the office after Aizawa, smiling obnoxiously as he says, “Eraserhead, I must say it’s an honour to finally meet you,” and twitches the long mousy whiskers coming from his upper lip and cheeks.
“Cut the shit,” Aizawa retorts. “Shinsou Hitoshi is done with the commission.”
Still smiling, the ratbag says, “That seems rather surprising, as he’s one of our most successful agents. Might I inquire as to how you’ve–”
“I’m on Shinsou’s current mission,” Aizawa cuts him off to explain, and doesn't miss the panicked 'oh shit' moment in his ratty little eyes. “Despite any attempts you might have made to keep us apart, someone didn’t check the fine print and I was asked to support him last week.” Barely a week ago, Aizawa thinks, amazed by how much seems to have happened in such a short space of time.
There’s a sweaty, uncomfortable silence that suggests they probably have made attempts to keep Aizawa and Shinsou apart until now, so now starts the damage control portion of this interaction. The ratbag begins with, “If Shinsou would like to review his working arrangement with us…”
“No review. He’s finished working for you,” Aizawa says with all the warmth of a tombstone.
“That’s something we would need to hear from him in person,” the ratbag replies slyly. “I’m afraid you don’t speak on his behalf.”
Aizawa gets his phone out and dials for Shinsou, who picks up eventually with a hurried, “Yeah?” and enough background noise that suggests he’s already out at the brunch he mentioned with friends from work. He actually seems to enjoy their company, Aizawa’s noticed, and wonders if they’ll be able to stay in contact after this is over.
“That thing you wanted me to tell the commission,” Aizawa introduces coolly, putting the phone onto speaker and holding it in front of his face so the two pencil-pushers in the room with him can hear too. “Mind telling them yourself?”
“Oh, sure,” Shinsou replies casually. “Fuck every single one of you sideways. I’m fucking done.”
“Thanks,” Aizawa says graciously, switching back off speakerphone and putting the phone back to his ear to say, “I’ll see you later.”
“You better,” Shinsou tells him. “Give them hell.”
“Of course,” Aizawa confirms, pretending his heart isn’t almost bursting and he’s focusing on what Shinsou needs right now, but that doesn’t mean the tide of feelings Aizawa has for him aren’t being drawn slowly up higher and higher until the flood wall finally breaks.
“Bye,” Shinsou says and hangs up, so Aizawa puts the phone down.
“It’s over,” Aizawa reiterates to the two men, “and count yourselves lucky I’m not taking it further, provided you agree to cut all ties with him immediately.”
“You seem to think you hold a lot of bargaining power for someone with no relation or connection to our agent,” the senior ratbag remarks. “Shinsou has worked with us for almost ten years, it’s not as simple as just terminating his affiliation with the commission.”
“Yes it is,” Aizawa counters. “Because if you don’t, I’m going to track down every one of you responsible for grooming an eleven year-old child into offering sex to pedophiles, and I won’t stop until you’re all nailed against the wall and held accountable to what you’ve done.” He might actually do that still anyway, but best not to mention it now.
“The nature of Shinsou’s missions can be… controversial, but he has never been required to engage in inappropriate activity,” the ratbag tries to defend.
“Sure, but I bet it made things pretty convenient for you when he actually started to fuck them,” Aizawa manages to say without punching a hole through the wall as his anger finally starts to escape. “Training a kid to attract sexual abusers seems to have a pretty strong link with him being sexually abused, don’t you think? Or would you like me to go to the press and see what they think about it?”
Aizawa almost wants them to make him do it, because their image deserves a bit of dirt rubbed all over it, and this is filth of the worst degree. There isn’t really a pretty face you can put on institutionalising the exploitation of underage children, and they all fucking know it. But he wouldn't do that to Shinsou, and working for the commission or not, he'd struggle as a hero if he went public with a story like that.
“Well, I can… see that your mind is made up,” the ratbag announces slimily. “We will have to initiate a debriefing process before Shinsou is free to–”
“Nope,” Aizawa interrupts. “No debriefing. He finishes this mission with me and he’s done.”
The ratbag’s mouth flaps without making words at first, eventually spitting out, “But… without credentials from us, he can't even think of working elsewhere as a hero.” As in, no one would take a kid out of nowhere with no education from a qualified school in heroics, no work experience to back it up, and no records from the commission that he was ever a hero in the first place. Efficient way to make sure their people have to stay with them for as long as the commission deems them useful, isn’t it?
“According to you,” Aizawa retorts stonily. “Weirdly enough, not having credentials from you hasn’t troubled me much, so to be honest, I think you’re bluffing.”
“You’re a… different kind of hero,” the ratbag excuses.
“As will Shinsou, once he’s not being kept in a box you built for him anymore.” Aizawa crosses his arms and gives the guy a hard stare. “I’m not actually here to debate this, you realise. I’m just telling you.” The two men stare at Aizawa like they’re figuring out where to go from here, but if Aizawa sticks around any longer he’s going to be tempted to start throwing more than threats around, so he just announces, “I’ll see myself out,” and heads for the door.
“Wait, Eraser,” the ratbag calls out, and Aizawa almost corrects him to Eraserhead since they aren’t casual like that, but it’s not really important so he leaves it. “What if Shinsou wants to come back to work for us? When this little tryst is over.”
Aizawa freezes with his hand on the door, and takes a deep breath to stop himself turning around and slamming him right in the whiskers.
“I’m not having sex with him,” Aizawa gets to say and actually be telling the truth. It’s a good feeling to be able to defy their assumptions like that. “I simply offered to help him reach his full potential. He’s not going to come back, but for argument’s sake, if he wanted to then I wouldn’t stop him.” This is also the truth, for what it’s worth.
“He’ll be back,” the ratbag asserts with a sneer. “He does this all the time. Gets caught up in some affair and decides he doesn’t want to take on a new mission, then comes back a few days later once he’s bored. You’re not special.”
This, Aizawa tells himself, is just an attempt to provoke him. And even if it’s true, it doesn’t matter. Shinsou is free to do what he wants, and Aizawa’s going to take his word over this bastard’s any day.
“We’ll find out,” Aizawa says so cold he could freeze a bottle of water with the lightest touch, and then opens the door, pausing with his hand on the handle. “And by the way, if I catch you using anymore underage kids to do work like this, I’m not going to stop until I’ve torn this whole place to the ground.”
“You and what army?” the ratbag scoffs. “We’re the hero commission, you’re just one man.”
Aizawa shrugs, his back still to them, and before he leaves the room comments, “Count yourselves lucky if you never have to find out.”
There’s no smarmy last word attempt as he walks away, not that Aizawa can hear anyway, and almost unconsciously he pulls his phone back out and rings the one person he needs to speak to most in this moment, who picks up after an obnoxiously long time leaving it ringing.
“What, Shouta?” Hizashi hisses like he’s interrupting something good.
“I told Shinsou everything. He’s quitting with the commission, I just finished breaking the news to them,” Aizawa delivers methodically, and there’s a scrambling sound from the background and what sounds a little bit like Hizashi talking to someone with his hand over the receiver.
He sounds a little more focused and clear when he speaks next. “What the fuck, that happened fast.”
“Yeah. Last night,” Aizawa explains as he starts the sixteen-flight journey back down. “I basically told him everything.”
“Everything?” Hizashi says forebodingly.
“Yeah, everything,” Aizawa confirms. “How I want to ruin his career, and how I’ll fall in love with him if we have sex.”
Hizashi gives a scream of laughter. “You did not, Shouta.”
“I did.” Aizawa plods down the stairs two at a time, glad he waited until now to tell Hizashi, when things are actually okay compared to totally fucked up like they were last night until Shinsou came back. “Also how I’ll get my heart broken by him.”
Scream-laughing again, Hizashi tells him, “You’re such a shitshow.”
“He didn’t seem to mind. Still asked me to help him get out of the commission's claws,” Aizawa explains, and Hizashi is silent for long enough that it gets suspicious. “What?”
“Nothing, I was just thinking if he heard all that and still went for it, he must be as crazy as you are.” It’s enough to make Aizawa smile, but it wouldn’t be Hizashi if after only a second’s grace he adds, “So did you fuck him yet?”
“No,” Aizawa snaps. “It’s not about sex, Hizashi.”
“Oh right, you’re doing all this because you don’t want to put your dick in him.”
“That’s not the point,” Aizawa replies blankly, not actively residing in denial so much as lightly setting the matter aside for the moment.
“Of course it is!” Hizashi retorts. “Where is he and why isn’t he on your dick already?! Wasting good ass is a serious offence, Shouta.”
Wryly, and guessing what Hizashi was doing in the morning to have taken such a long time to crankily answer his phone, Aizawa suggests, “Isn’t that what you’re doing by talking to me now?”
“Exactly,” Hizashi scoffs, since it’s not like him to be alone on any given night or morning-after of the week. If Aizawa is the one who’s ready to settle down at the drop of a hat, Hizashi is, as always, his polar opposite. Can’t be tied down for love nor money, unless it’s a sexy kind of tying down, and even then he’d rather be doing the tying.
“He’s out with friends for his birthday,” Aizawa doesn’t know why he bothers to tell Hizashi, perhaps just because it’s such a normal, pleasant thing for Shinsou to be doing that he wants to subtly share that information with Hizashi. To show Hizashi that he’s a real person and not just a sexual object Aizawa’s fixated on.
“Wait, it’s his birthday?!” Hizashi shoots.
“Yeah, apparently,” Aizawa reports.
“Have you gotten him a gift?”
“Uh, kinda.”
“Kinda?”
“We went shopping yesterday and I bought him a dress he liked,” Aizawa’s saying, but gets drowned out by Hizashi’s cackling laughter.
“Wow, so he’s got you totally whipped already, huh?”
“It was for our cover,” Aizawa retorts with a hit of colour tinging his face.
“Mhm, that’s what they all say,” Hizashi teases. “And what else?”
“What?”
“That’s all?” Hizashi accuses. “You like this boy, Shouta! This is your chance to make a big gesture and you’re just sleeping on it?!”
After a contemplative pause, Aizawa concedes, “Well, not anymore.”
“That’s more like it,” Hizashi praises. “So what are you gonna get him?”
“I… don’t know,” Aizawa answers awkwardly. “He’s got a lot of stuff already.”
“So what? Just splash some cash on an expensive piece of jewelry and be done with it.”
Shinsou does like jewelry, Aizawa knows. “What, like a ring?”
“No, not a ring you fucking maniac!” Hizashi barks. “He’ll think you’re trying to propose.”
Hizashi makes it sound like such a bad thing, but Aizawa doesn’t see it. “So?”
“So, this is exactly how you scare them off! No rings, Shouta!” he snaps like telling a dog not to pee on the carpet. “Just get him a nice watch or a bracelet or something.”
Or a necklace like the one Aizawa watched Shinsou being presented earlier in the week, which Aizawa doesn’t feel good about. No, he doesn’t want to be the same as Shinsou’s customers, giving him the same gifts. It needs to be something different, something that he wouldn’t get from anyone else.
Aizawa’s made it to the ground floor already, and strolls past the bemused looking secretary on his way out into the street. He’s got a few hours to kill before Shinsou’s going to need him at the club, so, he supposes, that’s some time to think about getting him another birthday gift.
“Alright, I’ll see what I can do,” Aizawa tells Hizashi. “You can go back to your one-night stand now.”
Hizashi chuckles, since Aizawa knows him far to well to think he’d be fucking anyone other than a stranger he’s only recently met. Hizashi likes to say that when there’s so many new people to fuck every day, why would he keep going back to people he’s been with before? Couldn’t be more different to Aizawa if he tried, but that’s half the reason they work so well. Opposites attract, or something like that.
“Bye, Shouta,” Hizashi says fondly.
“Bye.” Aizawa hangs up and pockets the phone, deciding that he’ll grab something to eat first while he tries to think of a gift for Shinsou that he hasn’t already received.
The idea comes to Aizawa when he’s eating in a little restaurant a few streets away from the hero commission building, looking at the wall hangings dotted around the restaurant of calligraphy and art prints.
Something Shinsou hasn’t been given before, that no one else would think to give him.
It’ll take a bit of research, and might not be possible in time, but Aizawa can definitely try.