He wanted to smoke.

Smoking was more of an oral fixation than anything else, but his nerves were wired. He would've liked to take the edge off. Instead, Aizawa made himself calm. Made himself tranquil. Made himself breathe. Four, seven, eight.

He wished that it would be easier to kill one teenager than to kill a laundry list of his own men. For better or for worse, he couldn't kill Momo now. Couldn't. Her family had been presented evidence of a student-teacher affair, and if she died now then the gloves would come off. It wouldn't be an investigation into his ego of Danchou, it would be an investigation into his Hero persona for being a pedophile. Even if he managed to make it out the other side, there was no coming back from under that shadow. Ever. He should be glad that Yaoyorozu Asao wanted to handle this privately. It meant it could be resolved privately, so long as Momo stayed safe.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, and Aizawa took it out to glance at the screen — speak of the Devil. Yaoyorozu. His eyes went to the screen's clock. Time was tight, but he had a few minutes still.

"Hello," he answered.

"I have a Hero guarding my house," Momo hissed, and Aizawa covered his smirk with one hand, even though he was alone in the dark with no one around to see. "Why didn't you tell me they'd be here?"

"Which one?" Aizawa asked, curiosity getting the better of him. "It's not Present Mic, is it?"

"It's Midnight." Midnight, good. She was capable and no bullshit. She should be trusted to keep her mouth shut about the situation, and to lay low while doing it. "Why are they here? Am I in danger?"

It disgusted him how astute this child was. Aizawa laughed, dragging his hand down his face and shaking his head. Was she in danger? He couldn't be sure, but possibly. He needed the little Yakuza princess to stay alive until this was resolved. No reason to alarm her, though. If she got spooked she might tell her father. Better to keep him out.

"You're not in danger. It's to make sure you don't come back to my home, Yaoyorozu," he lied. Smooth. Copper spread bright and gleaming, gleen enough to distract from the iron taste in the air. "I don't want you here."

"She said All Might sent her."

He didn't like that Midnight had disclosed that, but it wasn't damaging for Momo to know.

"Good."

"How does All Might know? And how much?"

He sighed, glancing around in the dark and listening. He hadn't expected this to turn into a game of twenty fucking questions. He remembered his recent thoughts, still ripe, that she could easily catapult into the Top Ten Heroes. Things like this…Her interrogations, her instinctual ability to set up leading questions, would only help to land her there. She'd be thorough. A Hero who left no stone unturned. She looked.

"All Might was concerned when you weren't in class after several days, so I told him that your family was being threatened. I didn't go into detail, and I didn't need to. He's a gaudy buffoon, he doesn't ask the right questions, and I knew he'd want to do something about it — and after your impromptu visit, I decided to use it to my advantage. Even a dull tool has its uses. I told him if he cared so much then he should have someone watch your house — discreetly, from a distance — to make sure your family was safe. I said I'd tell your family about his intentions. He couldn't do it himself, so I knew he would send someone else to do it. It was just a matter of who."

It was a long speech for him, in any setting or context. He was less than thrilled to give it. But he had to balance his transparency with her against the lies he was telling to keep her off his case. He needed her to trust him — to let him solve this without meddling or interference. Just let him fix it, his honesty coaxed, while his duplicity stayed back behind a screen, holding its knife.

She didn't respond.

"Go to bed," he told her. "And next time you call, it had better be a real emergency."

He ended the call without giving her the opportunity to respond, and put his phone away. Aizawa expected her to call again, persistent little shit she was, but she didn't.

He didn't have to wait much longer.

He heard when Eito and Junpei arrived; the unlocking of the doors upstairs and their heavy footsteps as they approached the steps to the basement. Their muted voices, muffled conversation that became clearer as they descended. Aizawa stood.

"—don't see him here. Tetsu said nine?"

"Yeah. Nine."

"How long are we supposed to wait?"

He felt it. The change in the energy when they came into the room. He heard them flick the switch, a few feet to his right. Eito cursed when nothing happened.

"Damn light's blown."

"There's a pull string across the room."

Aizawa saw a silhouette in the darkness walk past him, and the other slowly came further in, loitering in the doorway.

He moved.

In the pitch, he belonged to the shadows. He was one with them, consumed inside the dim. He made no sound, and neither did his victim. Aizawa came up behind him, one arm snaking around Eito's neck while his other hand pressed the soaked rag against Eito's nose. The chemicals were strong enough that Aizawa had to turn his head away. But he kept his grip tight around the other man, taking his weight easily as Eito's knees went out beneath him and Aizawa helped him to the ground. He kept the rag over Eito's nose. Aizawa left him there as he stood, straightening his back, when he heard Junpei's fingers touch the chain of the light across the room.

"What the fuck—"

Aizawa barreled across the room at him, ducking low to tackle his kobun to the ground. The crack Junpei's head made against the cement floor was mildly concerning — he didn't want to kill the man yet. But Junpei's hands were fumbling for a counter hold as Aizawa moved into position, latched onto his back and locking his legs around Junpei's waist, arm underneath his chin so he couldn't duck it. Pressure. Aizawa applied pressure, firm and steady, unyielding as Junpei struggled like a turtle to get off his back and onto his hands and knees while Aizawa stayed leeching on.

Junpei flung himself backward, letting his body weight and gravity catapult him into the wall, crushing Aizawa between — but still his hold didn't loosen. Even when the contact slammed his teeth together and his vision flashed white. Pressure. Firm and steady. Junpei was struggling to get to his feet to do it again, hands clawing at Aizawa's arms but unable to break the sleeper hold. He went down to one knee, collapsing forward, and still Aizawa stayed on.

Experience told him when it was safe to let go, and Aizawa fell back in momentary relief. No time to savor it. He had another rag doused in seconds, and duct taped it over Junpei's face before securing Eito's the same.

Now he had to get them to the fucking car.