Footsteps.
It was impossibly dark, leaving Hamuro in a sea of blackness that had her heart pounding wildly against her chest. Despite the readily available cover, she found herself curling into herself, left in a tight fetal position as she fought with her own lungs to take in oxygen as evenly and quietly as possible.
She wished that Ham was there. She wished that her little hamster was there right behind her to nuzzle her sweater and remind her that she isn't alone.
Except that she is.
And she's terrified.
The footsteps only grew louder, a piercing sound grating on her ears and pressing against her chest, and it didn't take a genius to realize that there were more than two pairs of feet coming her way. If there were any other sounds outside of those feet and Hamuro's borderline hyperventilating, she wasn't aware of it.
A beam of light briefly passed over the grate opening, barely anything but a flash that left spots in her eyes, and it took every ounce of self-control that Hamuro could ever even hope to have to hold still, even as her brain screamed at her that she might be too close to the grate, that she might be breathing too loudly, or that her heart is pounding so loud that someone might hear it beating against the vent floor.
Any voices below her were barely a whisper, but they were there, like an apparition in a haunted forest leading lost travelers to their deaths. The longer she waited and listened, the louder the shuffling and shifting of objects became. The creaking of the backroom door and and more stray spotlights blinking through the darkness were like icepicks against her skull.
Was she trembling? She couldn't tell. Maybe she was just cold.
Where was Ham?
Where were her friends? Would she ever even see them again?
She didn't know where they were, and she couldn't exactly stay here. Without communications, they couldn't coordinate a new rendezvous point, and there was no way that they could meet up here again, especially with guards now floating around watching and searching the place.
She didn't want to be alone.
She couldn't do this alone.
The backroom door suddenly slamming into the wall made her jump, the sound of her head banging against the vent floor barely masked by the responding bang underneath her. "D*mmit!" someone seethed.
"Calm down, man." another person quickly said. "They knew we were aware of them. Of course, they'd get outta dodge."
Grumbling could be heard, but no objections were made.
"This does answer a question or two, though." someone else commented. "Schrodinger did say that if they were all already gone, then that probably meant that there was a small number of them."
"Yeah, but that still doesn't give us exact numbers, and at this point, any miscalculations could ruin everything, even if it's just one extra person."
"He's got a point. We've only had two confirmed runners and one whose status is unknown. If there's anymore of them completely unaccounted for, there could be disastrous consequences."
Hamuro bit her lip, lying herself as flat against the vent floor as she possibly could. From the sounds of it, they were none the wiser to her presence, but she couldn't let her guard down.
Then again, what was the point? If they knew she was there, there was no escaping.
"Do you think Schrodinger will question the boy about it?"
The boy?
"No doubt. Whether or not he'll get any information out of him has yet to been seen."
"He's just a teenager. Give 'em an hour or so and they'll have him talking in no time."
Wait, they didn't mean-
"I don't know." The tone was casual, yet unsure. "I've heard stories about this guy. He's a tough egg to crack, if the LoV's interactions with him are anything to go by."
"That, and he's already single-handedly kicked several of our a*ses. People who've seen sh*t tend to be pretty tight-lipped."
Someone hummed, but Hamuro didn't hear much of whatever else was said, her mind slowly sinking away until her entire body was just numb and limp. If she could see her own eyes, she was sure they would be void of life.
Did they get Bakugou?
The thought scared her, shook her to her core and left her thoughts spiraling. No names were given, but there was no one else she could think of that they might be talking about, and as far as she knew, no one else was actively doing anything inside the mall. Unless there were heroes inside the mall right now, heroes that were caught, there was nobody else that they could be talking about.
She wanted to believe it was somebody else. She wanted it to be someone she didn't know, as selfish and ugly of a thought as it was, but there weren't many other possibilities and she was scared.
There was no confirmation, though. She didn't know for sure.
She didn't know.
She didn't know what to do.
Stay calm, her brain said, even when her hands were shaking so hard that she was sure there were tremors running through the vents. Be paranoid, but stay calm. Cautious. Careful.
Even if she was painfully alone, she couldn't allow herself to just give up and hand herself over. Not now.
"Your life is so much more important."
It had been five or six years ago, when she'd made that promise, and yet she still remembered that park, the bright green grass glistening in the morning sun and the trees swaying in the gentle breeze. Only a few other people in that park at the time, so it had been quiet, save for the chirping birds and the occasional laugh of another child walking with their family, and the distant sound of the waking city.
She even remembered how cold the bench was, the little orange-haired girl huddling against her mother's side for warmth. Her mother had been somber and particularly snappy that day, easy to cry and quick to shout at her husband. Escaping the house with her daughter in tow, she'd gone there to think, if Hamuro was reading the atmosphere correctly. It had been so long ago that she couldn't trust her memory of every tiny emotional detail. Just the beautiful scenery and her mother's desperate pleas.
She wondered if it was aunt Rui's birthday that day, or maybe the anniversary of her death. Whatever the case, it had left her mother in shambles, and the very idea of Hamuro so excitedly proclaiming her dream of becoming a hero had made her go ballistic.
Her father had argued it was just a phase. Her mother wasn't having any of it.
"Promise me!"
Her hand instinctively felt around for fur, searching blindly for comfort, for company, but all she found was the cold, empty vent surrounding her.
Maybe she could just stay here.
It wasn't a bad plan. Nobody was none the wiser, and Jirou was out there somewhere. Plus, there was an entire parade of heroes waiting outside for the slightest opening. Someone else would surely save the day. She was no hero, after all.
Someone else will save them.
Right?
"Do you think I could become a hero?"
For some reason, the thought left a sour taste in her mouth. Even though she was next to useless without her gadgets, or even her quirk, sitting around like this make her feel...oddly ill.
She couldn't fight. She couldn't follow them. She couldn't watch from afar. She would only get in the way.
Someone else could do it.
But what if they couldn't?
Hamuro swallowed thickly.
What would you do...
Her trembling fingers clenched into fists.
If the only one who could do it...
Her eyes felt watery.
Was you?
"Figure it out on your own."
Her eyes hardening, Hamuro forced herself to relax, letting her head rest against the cool vent floor. Obviously, jumping out of the vent wasn't an option, as she'd be caught in less than a millisecond. Even if she waited for them to leave, jumping down to collect her broken equipment and try to make some use out of it seemed somewhat pointless. If she was lucky, maybe the goggles still worked, but it was too risky to jump down and not be able to get back up.
Staying here wouldn't help anything anyway, so it seemed that her best option was to just get out of there, despite the dangers of vent cameras in the dark, and hope she ran into Jirou by sheer luck, or maybe even Bakugou, if she'd read the situation wrong.
She really hoped she was wrong.
The fact that she had no way of confirming or denying was eating away at her, but she had to swallow that uncertainty and focus. That's what Bakugou would do, anyway. She was sure.
With that in mind, all she could really do was wait for her unwelcome visitors to get lost so that she could get out of there without being detected and at least try to make herself useful. Heroes don't give up, after all, and even if she isn't one, that doesn't mean that she can't try to emulate them.
Deep down, that was still her dream. Even now, she still hadn't let go of that silly hope of hers.
If she could be a hero, even just for a second.
Despite herself, she couldn't help but smile, even as her thoughts came back down to earth and her brain registered the violent cacophony of stuff being thrown around before her and colorful language that she'd never even heard before. Even if they couldn't possibly hear her over the noise she was making, she still held as still as possible, her lungs screaming as if she wasn't breathing at all.
There was a crash, a boot heavily colliding with something as someone stomped away. "D*mmit!"
"We heard you the first time, bud."
The sounds eventually faded, footsteps and irate shouting slowly disappearing into the distance and the villains finally left her in peace, but it still wouldn't be for several more minutes before Hamuro dared to breathe, let alone move.
For how few people were actually in there, it almost felt as if the entire fourth floor was in utter chaos.
"Schrodinger, sir!" a guard shouted, running up to his side with a panicked expression as he approached the makeshift control room. "Sir, wha- Wait, whoa, what happened to your face?! Are you okay?!"
Absentmindedly, Schrodinger wiped under his nose, ignoring the fresh stain now soaking the back of his gloved knuckle. "It's nothing to be concerned about." he said simply.
In all actuality, the impact had stunned him good. The world had spun for a good several seconds and his cheek was still throbbing with pain. His vision in his left eye was a tad bit foggy and a part of him still felt somewhat dazed from the hit, but he supposed that it would all correct itself with time.
Either way, it wasn't anything worth freaking his minions out over. So the kid had gotten a good hit in. Fair enough. No reason to start a war over it.
Besides, that problem was now taken care of and thus not worth the unnecessary stress.
"I've been busy with efforts in tracking wayward civilians." Schrodinger sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Someone please explain to me what all the commotion is outside. Did the pros actually try to infiltrate?"
"We think it's a similar situation to the first two heroes that broke through our defenses." another guard explained. "All participants appeared to be teenagers up until the end. Most of the panic is honestly from Endeavor's brief appearance."
"That doesn't tell me anything." Schrodinger huffed impatiently. "What happened?"
"There was an attack at the very edge of the east wing of the building." someone else chimed in. "One of them had some kind of strength quirk that they could use from a distance, because people were getting blown back left and right. We thought it might be the first wave of their infiltration, so we sent more men to deal with it just in case, but apparently, there were more of them at the north end, with even more long-distance capabilities."
"A diversion, then." Schrodinger hummed. "Clever."
"The thing is that one of the heroes at the north end had a long distance electricity quirk, and a powerful one at that. Electricity in the entire north wing is currently down, and in the end, it really was just a bunch of teenagers causing problems, because Eraserhead and Endeavor stepped in and escorted them all out of our line of fire."
That was...actually a lot of information to take in at once.
And whether it would be beneficial or detrimental to his goals might actually be debatable.
"What's the state of the cameras around the decoy location?"
"Downed with the electricity, sir."
Schrodinger sighed in relief. If they'd seen that thing go down, then the heroes' attention would wander elsewhere. So long as he controlled their point of focus, he could rest easy that they wouldn't be doing anything truly outside of his expectations. It didn't mean that he could let his guard down per se, but it made things easier for him in the long run.
The north being their target was too good to be true for the heroes. No hostages to worry about, a way to regain their quirks, not as many guards, it was a perfect opening. Their hesitance was likely due to A, the threat of hostage deaths and B, the fact that the villains were ready for them, which was all true. What the heroes didn't realize, however, was that the whole thing was a distraction in and of itself.
Once the heroes that decided to go inside to take out the machine eventually showed up, it would be like handing Schrodinger a few brand-spanking-new high profile hostages that he could do whatever he wanted with, and wouldn't that look absolutely awful for the heroes, especially if they were to, say, never be seen again.
At least, that's what he'd originally been hoping for, but with how fast things were moving now, he didn't really have time to wait for that opportunity.
Instead, he'd just take advantage of what he had.
Of course, in order for all of this to be possible, the heroes needed to know where this decoy even was, hence why he'd been planning to fake a security leak in the first place. It wasn't quite in his plans for one to actually happen for real, and way sooner than he'd wanted.
It gave him chills just thinking about it. If that had happened anywhere else other than the north wing, his whole operation might have been compromised.
That was something to question the boy about. How the h*ll did that happen?
It also didn't help that one of the wayward hostages being tracked was in the decoy room at one point.
Now that had startled him. If the individual wasn't being tracked in that moment, he might not have known that anyone was in there as soon as he'd like, and boy was that a wake up call. He'd have to take guarding it a bit more seriously, because apparently, people were more observant than he'd given them credit for.
"Sir," a voice pulled him out of his thoughts. "What's our next course of action?"
A fair question, indeed.
Rubbing his chin in thought, Schrodinger glared at his feet intently, tapping his foot and pursing his lips. "Well, technically, the heroes did try to attack us. Our best shot at distracting them from the implications that might come from this power outage is to force their focus back onto the hostages."
If the heroes realized that the machine in the north wing was a decoy, they'd start looking around, and the less tampering that they had to deal with, the better.
Schrodinger suddenly snapped his fingers. "Oh yes, also! Start preparations for the finale asap."
Several guards paused to consider him, looks of open surprise and confusion on their faces. "Wait, already? You planning on using the kid, then?"
"With how fast things are moving, I don't see why not." Schrodinger shrugged. "If you're gonna set a pace, you stick with it. If the heroes want to keep things moving, then we'll match them tenfold, because if they move faster than us, it's over. They have Endeavor, Eraserhead, and other U.A. associates down there. It's now or never. Besides, a trainee could be far more effective of a tool than a pro, don't you think?"
The guards nodded, the chaos increasing as they did as instructed. "The boy's currently being kept in the storage room closest to the real suppressor," Schrodinger shouted over the commotion. "So start prep immediately and be ready to bail when the countdown begins."
"Yes, sir!"
The raven-haired villain watched in satisfaction as act three of his operation began to manifest itself right before his very eyes. Even now, he could still remember the planning and research, the hundreds of all-nighters spent gathering recruits, inventing and manufacturing equipment, hours of nothing but mugs of pure caffeine and bright lights as he slaved away at his first ultimate scheme.
Well, perhaps first wasn't fair, but it was the first where he was spearheading the whole thing completely on his own without some arrogant know-it-all breathing down his neck.
And through it all was Shirako. Beautiful, unwavering Shirako, with matching dark circles under her eyes to match his own and muscle pains leaving her crying herself to sleep most nights. The sacrifices that she'd made in his name, for his sake, everything she'd ever done for him...
He could never truly repay her.
Never.
Schrodinger hummed. "Now that I think of it... Where is Umineko?"
"What the h*ll is going on?!"
Jirou sucked in a sharp breath at the irate, feminine voice that cut through the air like a butcher's knife. Her feet pounded against the concrete floor as she raced deeper into the unknown, a wild beat to match her frantic heart in a cacophonous rhythm. The echoes behind her made no sense to her muddled brain, left with nothing but mush in the face of absolute failure.
It had all been for nothing.
For nothing.
"Someone was in the break room with the decoy when the electricity went out!" someone shouted above the noise.
"WHAT!?"
Jirou pushed herself to run faster, her legs burning from exertion. She had no idea where she was going, blindly running as the commotion rose behind her, with nothing but the green hue of her night vision goggles to guide her through the darkness. Behind her, beams of light rapidly blinked in and out of existence, a spectacle of flashes as guards began to frantically search for the intruder.
The pitch black hallway stretching out in front of her was almost completely barren, leaving her with few options of escape. Either she found her way back into the main mall or she somehow got back into the vents. At this rate, with how deep she was going into the staff-only maze, the chances of finding an unguarded exit seemed slim.
A vent it was, then.
"Gotta be kidding me..." Jirou muttered to herself, out of breath. The trick would be to find one that she could reach and hope that nobody figured out when she went. After that, all she could do was wander around until she somehow magically got back to that clothes shop and met up with the others. It was her best chance, anyway.
Turning the corner, the next room caught her eye, Jirou being hit by a sudden spike of energy as she sprinted to it, her feet sliding clumsily along the ground as she grabbed onto the open door frame and stumbled into the room.
Judging by the two dust, precariously-placed computer monitors and the cobwebs in the corners by the ceiling, she'd somehow managed to stumbled into the unused security station by sheer dumb luck. All that was in the room besides those things were two large desks and a single broken swivel chair. Scanning the room, the vent along the ceiling was heavily exposed, the grate left broken and askew. She could probably reach it if she jumped from the desk, but the open grate would be a dead giveaway if anyone noticed.
From the sounds rolling down the halls outside, she didn't have much of a choice.
Shoving the chair aside, the purple-haired girl found herself carefully lying the monitors face down, worried about knocking them over in her haste. There was no way she could afford sending something crashing to the ground when she was this close capture and/or death.
Scrambling onto the desk, the grate looked higher than she thought, but she barely allowed herself a moment to hesitate, leaping up flailing for the grate. The broken grate easily snapped under her weight, sending her back to the ground with a sloppy but otherwise successful landing as she quickly shoved the grate under the desk and climbed back up. She hated how sweaty her hands were, the threat of slipping and falling sending her frazzled nerves into overdrive, but she swallowed her doubts, just as she'd been trained to do, and just went for it.
Her fingers barely gripped the edge of the vent opening, her body swinging from the momentum as she grit her teeth and forced her stiff, aching arms to pull her body up and into the safety and cover of the vent. The cold hit her before she could probably register anything, crawling away from the opening before her body sagged against the vent floor, the air leaving her exhausted system in one large whoosh.
How the h*ll did she pull that off so quickly?
It didn't matter, she supposed, her treacherous heartbeat hammering against her eardrums as the shouting came back all at once. The footsteps closes to her position had slowed, allowing her a chance to breathe as a couple people seemed to stop in the room she'd just been in. The click-clack of heels caught her attention, a woman grumbling viciously as she too stepped into the barren room.
"Where did they go!?" the feminine voice shouted, an edge of ire behind it that had Jirou's skin crawling. "If this is that orange brat again, I swear to f*ck-"
"Ma'am, please calm down." a particularly brave guard responded coolly, only to be met with the loud clang of something solidly connecting with their armor and rewarding the hit with a soft grunt.
Jirou simply relaxed against the vent floor, allowing herself a moment to silently catch her breath as she waited for them to move on. The vents were loud, so moving around right now would obviously lead them right to her, but honestly, she didn't think she'd be able to move right now even if she wanted to.
She never been so exhausted in her life.
Everything that had happened thus part was finally catching up to her, she realized, her face pressed against the freezing vent as she found her eyes drifting shut. Even if this was no time for sleeping, a moment of rest had never sounded so appealing before. She smiled at the thought, her breaths long and even as stray strands of hair slid around the goggles to lie in clumps against the floor.
Lost in her moment of reprieve, it was almost embarrassing to admit how little she was aware of, the beam of light flickering between the ceiling and the floor completely slipping her mind until-
"THEY'RE IN THE F*CKING VENTS!"
The most unholy, ear-splitting shriek of indignant rage she'd ever heard pierced her ears like daggers. Jirou gasped as a bullet suddenly tore through the vent floor, barely missing her and leaving her ears ringing. She curled into herself instinctively, a sharp, all-encompassing note of fear leaving her body impossibly rigid as she uselessly covered her head with her arms and curled up even tighter. The small barrage of bullets that tore through the vent floor all around her left her in a state of numb detachment, eyes wide as the goggles' green tint took up her entire vision and left her breathless.
I'm about to die.
They found me and I'm gonna die.
I'm gonna die.
She squeezed her eyes shut as the rain of bullets slowed, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood as she felt something scrape almost harmlessly against her leg and whiz through her hair, sending strands floating into the freezing air like bird's feather floating in the wind.
Calm down, she told herself. Breathe.
Breathe.
Pitter-patter directly next to her ear caught her attention, her hazy eyes staring into the green-tinted darkness as something nuzzled its way out of her pocket. Her eyes widened immensely as they landed on a ball of fur casually making its way down the vent past the opening, staying carefully quiet and out of sight as he went.
What was Ham doing?
She'd almost forgotten about him in her rush to escape her pursuers, sitting unnoticed in her pocket as she charged down the blackened hallway. Now, seeing him scurry down the vent with a purpose, she wasn't entirely sure what to make of it, especially considering the nature of his quirk.
Did the little guy have a quirk?
Little back at her through the darkness, he wiggled his little ears and nose, and then his tiny little tail, before he paused where he was.
And then started banging against the vent floor with all of his might.
Ham was a fairly rotund rodent, bigger than than the average hamster and large enough to easily fit in the palm of Jirou's hand, so him smacking against the vent floor and bouncing around on the vent walls was more noise than one might expect. Jirou's were impossibly wide, mouth agape as she watched Hamuro's hamster jumped around to make as much noise as possible, almost as if he was trying to mimic a human trying escape through the vents.
"Over there!"
Gunfire started up again, now more concentrated around where Ham was banging around the vent. Jirou could see the moment that Ham crossed past the wall, bullets practically making a line through the vent floor where they could no longer shoot.
"F*ck!" the female voice shouted. "Where does the vent lead!?"
"Uh, how would I-?"
"FIND OUT!" she screamed, running out of the room. "We'll cut 'em off the first chance we get! We can't let them get away again!"
Jirou listened in stunned disbelief as the woman and the guards all filed out, taking off down the hallway after where all the noise seemed to be heading. It was almost comical, the whole fiasco that she'd just witnessed.
She'd just been saved by a hamster.
A hamster.
Kaminari would never let her live that down if he ever found out.
She smiled at the thought, taking a moment of momentary reprieve to imagine his goofy smiling face. Man, she was really starting to miss him.
For now, though, after the spike of adrenaline that had left her breathless, she found herself relaxing again, completely numb to the ridiculousness of everything that had just transpired and instead soaking in the mind-numbing relief of somehow still being alive after sitting in the path of what was basically a firing squad.
And I'd really been needing a little bit of luck, too, she thought blearily as she rested against the torn up vent floor. A minute or two to catch her breath couldn't hurt, after all.
He almost felt bad for shoving his student into the tent so harshly, the boy stumbling forward with wide, petrified eyes and trembling hands, but frankly, Aizawa was frustrated.
Aizawa was so frustrated.
Tsukauchi's team was currently losing their minds, paranoia about Schrodinger's incoming reaction to the kids' actions running rampant among the group as they scrambled for damage control. He didn't know what the other heroes were up to, but he supposed he'd find out in due time. For now, he was more concerned about corralling his disobedient, idiotic students before they caused any more trouble than they already have.
The faded red stains coating the front of his shirt were sending pins and needles running along his skin, the phantom warmth of Asui's blood sending shivers down his spine. He didn't have time to stick around and make one thousand percent sure that she would be okay, but Recovery Girl had already been contacted and was on her way to the same hospital that the ambulance was heading and though staunching the blood flow was a major concern, there was at least no bullet to have to work around through surgery and other healers were on standby to start the recovery process.
He'd also been able to get Kirishima to stand down with the request of staying by her side. Even if he also needed medical attention, at least he'd feel like he was helping, and that would keep him in line for the time being. Meanwhile, Ashido and Hagakure were under watch in another tent, where whoever Endeavor retrieved from the clusterf*ck that now made up the north wing would be joining them.
That, from his understanding, made up most of the guilty party, though as of right now, he had no way of knowing just how many people in the class were aware of what was happening, and thus guilty by association.
What a mess.
Arms crossed over his chest, the raven-haired hero stared his wayward student down. "Problem child."
Midoriya flinched, eyes squeezed shut as he curled into himself, and Aizawa swallowed the twitch in his heart to maintain his fiery red glare. "Midoriya," he ordered. "Look at me."
The kid actually sobbed, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut. Normally, Aizawa might feel a pit open up in his stomach at the sight of his student being so inconsolably terrified of him, but right now, he needed this. He needed to pull rank, to assert his position as his teacher, his superior, the adult in this situation.
He needed him to understand.
"What you did was foolish and reckless. You understand that, don't you?"
Midoriya didn't answer right away, his frame racked with sobs, but Aizawa held his ground. "Do you realize how many people you've endangered today?"
Midoriya swallowed harshly. "I-I- I w-w-was j-just trying to he-"
"I don't care what your intentions were." Aizawa cut in, the greenette flinching harshly at his tone. "It doesn't matter what you were trying to do. I, your teacher, specifically told you not to get involved, and you and your classmates blatantly disobeyed me."
"No! Wait!" Midoriya met his eyes for the first time, shimmering with tears as he scrambled to his feet. "Don't punish the others! It was all me! I talked them into-"
"That shouldn't matter. They were still directly involved and just as much to blame as you."
"But I-"
"They could have said no." Aizawa interjected. "Unless you somehow forced them all to participate, which I doubt, they could have easily walked away, or better yet, told somebody so that we could have prevented this."
Midoriya's knees were buckling, watering eyes wide and clouded with so many emotions that Aizawa couldn't even begin to count them all. "Midoriya," he started, his tone low and level. "I need you to understand the magnitude of what you all did. This isn't even the first time you've done something like this. I would have thought that the threat of expulsion and All Might's retirement after Kamino would have sobered you to the dangers and risks of this sort of thing. I don't care whether or not you regret your actions that day."
Midoriya shut his mouth, his lips wobbling.
"Not only did you disobey me," Aizawa barreled on. "Not only did you drag your classmates into it, but you've endangered several civilian lives. Even if your scheme had worked, which wouldn't have changed anything, how the h*ll were you expecting the heroes to charge in and detain the villains before anyone was killed? They have firearms. Nobody here is faster than a bullet."
The blood seemed to drain from the freckled teen's face, beads of sweat running down his paling face as his shaking knees finally gave out from under him. The underground hero refused to let up. "But that doesn't matter, does it? Because predictably, there were unaccounted for elements, because we don't know everything yet, and now, more than likely, our operation has been set back and even more lives will be lost before this is all over."
Aizawa looked him directly in the eye, no hint of remorse to be found in his steely gaze. "In essence, what you and your classmates have done today is go rogue. In the heroics industry, that is equivalent to vigilante activity. Not only that, what you've all done is not only illegal, but has been detrimental to this operation and could thus be charged as obstruction of justice."
There was a beat of silence before the most broken, heart-wrenching sob that the underground hero had ever heard in his entire life retched out of his student's throat, the kid falling to his side and curling into himself as the weight of everything seemed to hit him all at once. The thought made Aizawa's shoulders ache, but he couldn't afford to be lenient. Not yet, at least.
He just wanted him to understand.
He needed to understand.
"I should have you expelled for this." Aizawa seethed, tiredly rubbing his hands over his face. "I should press charges. You should be arrested."
Silence fell between the two of them, broken only by his student's muted wailing. He knew the kid was a crier, but he didn't think he'd ever seen him look so...defeated before. He held his tongue, not daring to take back a single word, because he meant every single one. As much as Midoriya was hurting, he needed to hurt. He needed to feel the repercussions of his actions, to face the consequences of his choices, because if they just kept on letting him get away with pulling stunts like this, whether they worked out or not, then he'd never learn.
He'd keep doing it. He'd keep making the same mistakes with the same rose-tinted glasses, because he'd never been told otherwise.
Or if he had, it was at the wrong time by the wrong people.
Still, despite everything, he didn't like how pathetic the kid looked, curled up by himself and crying out of sheer hopelessness and defeat. It didn't suit him, because despite everything, the boy would make an exemplary hero someday.
So long as he was led down the right path, and as a teacher, it was Aizawa's job to do so.
Gingerly, Aizawa moved to sit down next to Midoriya's quivering form. He made no move to acknowledge him, so caught up in his own grief that the world was closed off to him, like his was trapped in his own little bubble of misery with no way out. It was pitiful, and Aizawa hated seeing him like this, even if it was necessary.
Sometimes, the right thing to do didn't feel like the right thing to do.
"I should." he reiterated, a sharpness to his eyes that could only come from years of hardship and tragedy, because that was the sacrifice that every hero made. "I should do all those things...but I won't."
Midoriya's broken cries soon dissolved into hiccups, the boy slowly looking up at him with something that resembled hope, and maybe a little bit of awe. "If something like this ever happens again, I will not hesitate to boot you out of my class and the heroics industry for good, because if I haven't gotten through that thick skull of yours after this, I'll know that you're a lost cause. Bakugou is more respectful of authority than you. Bakugou."
Midoriya chuckled at that, slowly pulling himself up off the floor to sit with his arms hugging his knees. Though it was dim, a little bit of light seemed to return to his sullen eyes, even if his smile was still absent.
"I know you have the heart of a hero." Aizawa sighed. "I've seen it with my own eyes. You have potential, even when I once said you didn't."
Midoriya looked oddly conflicted at the declaration, a light in his eyes as he smiled sadly at the ground.
"I also know that All Might's somehow gotten it into your head that getting involved in things you shouldn't is the heroic thing to do."
And that was kicker in all of this, wasn't it? The kid had genuinely believed that he was doing the right thing.
It threw a wrench into everything, because doing the right thing no matter what; Wasn't that the heroic thing to do? Wasn't walking the path less traveled by the noble and right thing to do? That's what many people would say, anyway.
But what if the thing that most people are doing is the right thing?
For some reason, it seemed as if the boy had missed that memo, as if he'd gotten it into his head that inaction was the same as injustice.
But they're not equivalent. Caution doesn't equal complacency or hesitation. Being methodical is not the same as being impassive.
And for the life of him, in all the years of his life, this kid just did not seem to understand that. Had no one taught him such a thing? Was All Might really the first and only person to teach him any kind of heroic ideology?
It was...worrisome.
Of course, none of this meant that the kid wouldn't be punished, and severely at that. If anything, he was gonna regret the day he was born once he was done with him, but he was also starting to get this inkling that authority figures, or at least trustworthy ones, in his life were...lacking, if nothing else.
Because of all kids to have a rebellious streak, no matter how polite...
It left him with a lot of questions, but he pushed them aside for now.
Aizawa gave the greenette one last look over before spoke. "I've decided that I will be suspending you provisional license for an indefinite amount of time."
Midoriya turned to him sharply. "Sensei-!"
"I've already told you what I should be doing." Aizawa warned. "Do not argue with me."
Midoriya backed down quickly, hugging himself tightly with a glassy look in his eyes. For the umpteenth time, Aizawa sighed. "Your license is suspended until further notice, and you will be suspended for the next week and put on house arrest in the dorms for the following week. For that week and how ever many after that I deem fit, you and those of your classmates that were directly involved will be taking remedial lessons with me on the importance of hierarchical protocol. Once I decide that you are ready, you will be required to retake the provisional license exam before you can get your license back. Is all of that clear?"
"Sensei..."
Midoriya looked frustrated, his hands shaking as he stared down at his bright red sneakers, and Aizawa could help the elation that it caused. "Would you prefer that I revoke your license?"
Midoriya's eyes went wide. "N- No, sir!"
"Then stop trying to argue with me and just accept the consequences. You brought this upon yourself. Deal with it."
Midoriya's shoulders deflated, but he slowly nodded, biting his lip. "...I understand."
"Good." Aizawa nodded. "Now, there is a police officer waiting outside that will escort you to the tent where Ashido and Hagakure are currently waiting. Your other classmates will meet you there shortly. Once you get there, stay there. Understood?"
"...Yes, sensei."
Satisfied for the time being, Aizawa nodded again, leading the boy outside where the officer in question was waiting. Midoriya gave him one last, strange look of awe before he was led away, tensing up and folding into himself the further they went. Aizawa merely shook his head with a huff.
Everyone else directly involved, he'd decided, would be put on a week of house arrest and in the same remedial lessons that Midoriya would have to suffer through, Asui and Kirishima included. He was debating giving Asui a shorter house arrest, as being gravely injured could be punishment enough, but he was still on the fence about it. He'd also have to figure out how many other students he'd have to put in detention for being aware of what was going on without telling him, as well as decide for how long. He supposed it would depend on how many of them there were, which was, if his suspicions were correct, most likely all of them.
What a mess.
"Eraserhead."
Aizawa glanced to the side, meeting Endeavor's fiery glare head on. Off to the side, he could see Todoroki, Uraraka, Sero, and a fried Kaminari being led towards the same tent that Midoriya was. That brought the total of future remedial students up to nine in total.
Almost half of the f*cking class.
"These d*mn kids..." Aizawa growled, rubbing viciously at his scalp. Running a hand through his hair, he pulled it back to see a few strands coming loose with it.
His hair wasn't even graying anymore. He was losing it now, because his brats couldn't and wouldn't stay out of trouble.
These d*mn kids, indeed.
"I would like to apologize for Shouto's behavior today." Endeavor said simply, a note of aggravation in his voice. Aizawa might have been a little bit more concerned if he wasn't so livid himself. "I will be speaking to him about it later."
"I will, as well." Aizawa responded. "From my understanding, he and several other students were mostly following Midoriya's lead."
"I feel like I should be surprised, but I'm not." Endeavor sighed. "That Midoriya boy has a good head on his shoulders, but he's also All Might's boy."
Aizawa chose not to comment on the wording, lest he give himself an even worse headache. "I will personally be disciplining all guilty parties accordingly, I can assure you." he said. "And I currently have no plans of expelling them, if that's something you were worried about. For the time being, at least."
Endeavor wasn't looking at him, but his features hardened all the same. "I will hold you to that."
"ERASER!"
Aizawa and Endeavor both winced harshly at the earth-shattering screech of Present Mic's quirk, several other people around them dropping whatever they were doing to cover their ears and brace themselves against the wall of sound that simultaneously slammed into each and every one of them.
Clenching his teeth and ignoring both the head-splitting migraine and the ringing in his ears, Aizawa gave Mic the dirtiest look he could muster. Next to him, Endeavor looked ready to literally bite the loudmouth's head off.
"Eraser!" he yelled again, now at a respectable volume, and this time, Aizawa caught on to the slight twinge of panic in his voice. It was well-hidden, smothered in his forced enthusiasm and masked confidence, but to Aizawa well-trained eye, after knowing the man since high school, there was a blatant waver in his tone that had every hair on his body standing on end.
"What?" he growled, unable to hide the note of irritation, because his head hurt, his nerves were frayed, and once this was all over, he was hibernating for the next five years. The other teachers could deal with carrying out his punishments. He wanted to be in a coma for a while.
Present Mic was completely undeterred. "Eraser," he whispered fiercely, and Aizawa felt real fear course through his veins, because Present Mic didn't just whisper. "We have a situation!"