Chapter Text
Detective Tsukauchi Naomasa sat at one of the desks in the empty classroom that the investigation team had taken over. He sighed as he stared out the window. He hated having to interview children. Something about it always left a bad taste in his mouth. But not only had Toshinori asked for him specifically, but Nedzu had as well. So there wasn’t anything he could really say or do to get out of this. Not like he would, especially since some of the investigators on this case seem to forget that this wasn’t just a massive opportunity for career advancement. That there were actual people who had been and still were being impacted by this whole thing.
Really, it all was just a huge mess and Naomasa just wanted a strong drink and a nice evening to himself. His sister had gotten him a nice set of bath bombs, telling him he needed some hobby that helped him wind down from his job. He’d kill for a few hours to use one. But for the foreseeable future, all of his time was going to be wrapped up in this case.
No baths for him, only showers.
“Detective? I brought you coffee.” It was Aizawa.
Naomasa shook his head with a smile, holding a hand out to the side, the cup was pushed into the side of his hand. “You’re a lifesave—”
He cut himself off in shock as he turned to actually look at the hero.
Pink.
He was so pink .
“Uh, so.” Naomasa swallowed, not sure how to bring up the wild style shift without coming across as being judgemental. People could dye their hair or get tattoos or do body modifications until the cows came home and normally Naomasa wouldn’t blink an eye.
But something about Aizawa with hair that could be mistaken for cotton candy threw him for a loop. The man was so no-nonsense and an absolute harda— that something about his hair being anything but black to tie together the gloomy emo-hobo look felt incredibly wrong .
Aizawa followed the detective's eyes to go almost crosseyed to look at the pink fringe that hung down his nose.
“Ah, right. I dyed my hair.”
His quirk pinged. A slight lie.
“You… didn’t dye it?” Naomasa was even more confused at his quirk's response to that. What did that mean?
“Mic did, technically.”
“Ah, okay.” Naomasa absentmindedly nodded as he stood, a little in shock . That didn’t explain why, but it wasn’t really his place to just point blank ask. Their relationship was closer than most who interacted with Eraserhead, but it was still purely professional.
“Word for the wise, Izuku is nervous around new people. Tread lightly or I will not stop Hizashi from castrating you.”
That shook Naomasa out of his dazed state to glare at Aizawa. “I wouldn’t purposely upset a child.”
“I know.” Aizawa used his eyes to point at the coffee in the detective's hand. “If I thought otherwise, I wouldn’t have brought you that.”
The detective thought that was fair, and took a sip of the hot coffee. He hummed.
“It’s good . Where did you get this?” It was way better than the instant garbage that he had been pounding back the last few days.
“I have my sources.” Aizawa ducked his head into his scarf and turned to the door, holding it open for the detective.
Naomasa followed behind him, his eyes locked onto the way the pink locks swayed with each step.
He already knew that this case was going to at times feel absurd, but this might take the cake.
A cotton-candy-pink frosted cake.