He trusted Momo, and that trust was approaching unconditional. She had demonstrated again and that she deserved it. But, on the other side of that coin, she was still a teenager, and with that came a certain amount of untrustworthy recklessness — and it was that voice who spoke as he reached the parking lot.
He'd parked behind the hospital, where the security staff and other employees parked. The nondescript sedan was waiting for him. It's headlights blinked twice when he unlocked the door as he approached, and it was the lights that made him pause.
One two.
One two.
Aizawa stared at his car. The thought was there, in the peripheral of his mind just out of reach, so he waited. It had to do with Momo.
Bakugo. Momo. One two.
His grip tightened on his keys and he pressed the button on the fob, locking the vehicle again as he turned his back and jogged toward the staff entrance. He didn't have time for this — he had his press conference coming up. The countdown was on for his arrival and he knew he was expected: he was a critical part of the Heroes' next move. He couldn't be late, but he couldn't shake the feeling.
The elevator slowly ascended to the ward where the UA students were recovering from the attack on the summer training facility. Every other light in the hospital hallway was off, dimming the space for nighttime, and there was one nurse lingering behind the desk at the nurse station. They recognized him as he approached, and offered a nod as he passed the checkpoint.
Something felt wrong. He couldn't put his finger on it, and his gaze darted back and forth as he went down the hall, checking through the open doorways of all the patient rooms. It was so quiet. The televisions were off, he realized. It was too early for them to be asleep. His footsteps slowed and he leaned in Midoriya's room, and saw the hospital was empty.
One two.
One two three.
Fuck.
He backtracked and went down the hall, room by room, taking roll in his head. Kirishima. Midoriya. When he reached Todoroki's room, Aizawa had already begun to understand where this was going. Had Iida not already gone rogue once before, he would've been surprised by Iida's absence in the ward.
But, no matter what the boys had planned, the clock wouldn't turn if it was missing the main wheel.
Momo.
She better not have. She better fucking not have.
As Aizawa stalked down the hallway to her room on the end, he already knew what he was going to find. He already had his burner in his hand when he shoved the half-closed door open. But he hadn't been prepared for the panic he felt when he actually saw her empty hospital bed.
Was that his heart making that irregular, unsteady sound? Were those his palms that were sticky with sweat? Why was every breath so shallow and clipped?
Had she heard nothing he'd said, nothing he'd warned her of? The Nomu might have been trying to capture her — she could be a target for the League, and she was going into their mouth. He had warned her and, even when she fucking knew better, she still decided to risk it all.
Aizawa stepped into the room and leaned against the wall out of sight of the hallway, pulling his nervous energy back into himself so he could lock it away and think.
She could've made a duplicate tracker, and Aizawa had no doubt that the boys would have gone and asked for her to do so outright. And she would've agreed, because that was the kind of Hero she was. If there was a gap, Momo would fill it however she could. She wouldn't have let them go on their own with one of her devices though.
If Momo had the burner on her, he could find her location — send police or Heroes to intercept them before they had a chance to fuck up the Pro Heroes' plans to rescue Bakugo. He would have to explained then, however, how he'd been able to track her, and he couldn't do that. That was their secret.
He had the option to report their absence from the hospital to Principal Nezu, and Nezu would take charge of how to handle the meddlesome students. He was analytical enough to come up with a plan.
All Might, however, would be fucked. The World's Number One Buffoon had no self-restraint. If All Might heard that Midoriya had gone off half-cocked, he was liable to screw the whole mission for the sake of getting his pupil back. Even if Nezu came up with genius plan, All Might was big-hearted fool enough to make sure it never launched.
He didn't have time to stand here debating. He needed to make a decision.
Aizawa left the hospital room and returned down the corridor to the elevator, not glancing at the nurse station on his way out. He was still thinking, even as the elevator quietly beeped to tick away each floor. Still thinking as he approached his car, and what little time he'd try to buy himself had depleted.
He didn't give a damn about Midoriya, Kirishima, Todoroki, or Iida. They were expendable. This would be less complicated if he focused only on Momo.
Aizawa glanced at the time on his phone, and made his decision. He would kick off the press conference, which was the catalyst for the Heroes to begin their raid. If that happened swiftly enough then it wouldn't fucking matter that the students tried to get involved — the Heroes would be moving in before Momo and posse could even come up with a plan.