Chapter Text
Shouta Aizawa was used to making tough decisions. Which students to hold back, how hard he’d need to work with them,which heroes to trust with the lives of his students, and, on one memorable occasion, which of his friends to sacrifice in the name of the greater good.
He was less used to having to choose between a handful of his coworkers, and a small mountain of paperwork.
He sat on a park bench, coffee in hand, and stared out at the lake. The sun was just starting to peek out over the horizon, and a soft breeze was blowing. He should have been relaxing, enjoying a moment away from the noise and commotion of the city, but his mind was spinning.
It was no surprise to anyone that being the homeroom teacher for Class 1-A was not an easy job, but the last few days had really driven it home.
Bakugo was still missing. It’d been days. Two days. The kid had been taken from the camp that SHOUTA had planned, that he GURANTEED was safe, that HE was responsible for.
And now Bakugo was gone.
And… there was nothing that could be done, at least, not my legal means.
But…
But.
Tomura Shigaraki had given him his phone number. At the USJ, when Shouta’s arms had been broken, his skull cracked in, his eye nearly fell out of the socket- but Tomura slipped a phone number into Shouta’s pocket, with a note.
‘You’re so cool, Eraser’
So, Shouta had a choice to make.
Did he call the villain? Did he risk his career, his life?
It should have been a harder choice, it really should have- but he knew damn well that he’d give anything to save his students, his charges, his kids.
Shouta pulled out his phone, and started dialing.
The first ring was barely audible before he got a response.
Click.
“Eraser! Hey! I was wondering if you were ever gonna call!"
Shouta took a deep breath.
“How’d you know it was me?”
“I’ve had your number for years. I was just waiting on you to want to call me.” Tomura’s tone was playful, smug.
"I didn't want to. You kidnapped one of my kids."
There was a snicker on the other end of the line.
"Oh, papa ‘raser is worried about one of his flock?” Tomura hummed. “We’re taking good care of the kid, don’t worry- we’ve learned some… interesting things about your top student, though.”
“I didn’t call to hear you gloat.” Shouta scowled.
"Then why did you call me?"
“I want him back. Just name your goddamn price.”
There was a long pause on the other end of the line.
“How about a meetup?” Tomura offered. “I can bring the kid.”
“… there’s a price here, I know there is.”
“No, no, actually-“ Tomura hummed. “I’d like to… OFFER you something, a GIFT.”
Shouta paused.
A gift?
From a villain?
It sounded like a trap, but Shouta knew the boy well enough to know he wouldn't be lying, not here, not when he had what Shouta wanted.
"Alright." Shouta cleared his throat. “Is my gift… my student?”
“Sure is.“
“Why?” Shouta asked, directly. “Just because I asked?”
“Because I admire you, Eraser.” Tomura hummed. “You’re so cool.“
“… Alright.” Shouta sighed. “Send me an address.”
"Great!" Tomura sounded delighted. "There's a nice little bar on 12th and main. I'll meet you there in an hour. Bring whoever you like, as many people as you'd like, in fact."
Shouta paused, frowning.
"Why are you letting me bring other heroes?"
"Because I want them there too. There's a LOT I need to say. So... see you soon!"
Click
Shouta slowly set his phone down, and finished his coffee.
He wasn’t going to bring anyone. If Tomura was that excited for an audience, it probably meant he had a bomb set up or something.
He wouldn’t risk anyone else. He’d go alone.
He’d take care of it. He’d get Bakugo back.
His knees felt weak, the whole walk to the shop.
He was probably going to die today. That was… fine. He just hoped that he could save Bakugo before he went.
The interior of the bar was dark, seedy- brick and wood, worn bar top and rickety stools. Shouta almost felt comfortable there- he wondered why he’d never come here before- it wasn’t too far from his usual patrol zone, and it looked like drinks were cheap.
The bartender approached- and Shouta stiffened, on edge.
“Tomura hasn’t finished preparing young Bakugo just yet.” Kurogiri explained. “Can I get you a drink?”
“…Is it poison?”
“No.” Kurogiri assured. “I’ll drink the same if you don’t trust me.”
“…It’s fine. Irish coffee.”
“Haven’t slept well?” Kurogiri asked, Shouta found himself stiff, on edge.
“I’ll give you three guesses as to why.“
“We haven’t hurt the child.” Kurogiri soothed, quietly.
Shouta took a slow breath, staring into the cup as the drink was slid across the table to him.
"…What does Tomura have planned?"
"He wants to offer you an alliance."
"An alliance."
"He doesn't have the power he needs, not yet." Kurogiri explained, gently. "Your help could speed things up considerably."
Shouta was silent.
"Think it over. We have a few minutes."
Kurogiri turned, grabbing glasses. Shouta could kill him. He could. He had his boot knife. It’d be one less problem.
But he wasn’t going to do anything until he had his eyes on Bakugo.
So he waited, until the saloon doors to the back of the building opened, and out came the leader, Tomura Shigaraki, wheeling in a massive, glittery pink box with a white silk bow tied atop it. Flanked on either side by Dabi, and Compress.
“Shigaraki.” Shouta greeted, downing his drink and standing, rolling his shoulders. If they were all in here, the chances of the box containing a bomb were low.
“You came alone?” Tomura asked, pouting. “Well that isn’t nearly as fun- I’d hoped you’d at least bring Present Mic.”