She made it through the next day, somehow. The concern and guilt on her shoulders was heavy, and Momo was riddled with doubts. It wasn't too late for her to try to go to the police, she tried to convince herself, but even in her head it went nowhere. They would want evidence and she would have none to offer besides her word versus his. He was a Pro Hero, a teacher at UA, and — for all intents and purposes — a good, upstanding citizen. Even if she didn't breathe a whisper about the contrived student-teacher affair, what good was her word against his?

There was no easy solution to this, and no solution she liked at all.

She was tired of treading over the same ground, searching for another answer and always coming up empty handed. She wanted to find the way out of the situation she was in.

Maybe, even if Aizawa "solved" the issue of the threat against her family, she should transfer anyway. It would be the easiest way to relieve herself of her nefarious teacher, but it would solve nothing. He would continue exactly as he was, undeterred. And then what? She waited until she was a Hero and took him down herself? How many years would that take? If she couldn't solve this now, what did she expect becoming a Hero would change?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Momo flung a pillow across the dim room in frustration. She was tired of living with the knowledge she possessed. It was well after midnight now, and every minute dragged. She felt every second of the day and she could hear the passage of time in her ear like nails on a chalkboard. She'd looked outside on her balcony shortly after dark, and saw that Midnight was lingering there again. Momo looked again now. The answer to her unspoken question was the same.

Momo peeled herself from between the sheets and stalked toward the door, resentment burning in her chest. She could feel it changing her. She could feel it darkening a place in her soul that light would never touch again. Momo opened the door to her room and sulked down the hallway in the direction of the stairs. She wasn't sure what void eating in the middle of the night would fill, but it seemed like the only thing she could do without worsening the situation. A hand clamped over her mouth while an arm went around her waist, dragged her into a room. Momo's gasp was muffled, and she moved to slam her elbow back into her attacker's face, but they dodged it effortlessly.

"Don't yell," he whispered roughly in her ear. "If your parents find me here, we'll never convince them that we aren't fucking."

Her spine went rigid and she was spun around in his hands. Aizawa looked down at her with what she could only interpret as amusement as her eyes adjusted to the dark room. She could feel herself flushing at his crude words, creeping up her neck and through her face, even to the tips of her ears.

"What are you doing in my house?" she demanded, hissing at him as his hands dropped away.

"I came to tell you I know who's responsible for the threat against you and your family."

She could still feel the lingering warmth of where his hands had touched her, and she swallowed hard. Moonlight came through the window and touched upon one side of his face, illuminating half his countenance. Now that she could see his face better in the dim lighting, the mask covering his thoughts and emotions was in place. It was impossible to read him.

"I think that constitutes a phone call at most," Momo countered. "How did you get past Midnight?"

"It's Midnight and Present Mic tonight, actually," he said, avoiding her questions entirely.

"Why didn't you just call?" she pressed.

"I had to get rid of my burner in a hurry, and I lost the number to yours with it."

Had to get rid of his burner in a hurry. Red flags flew up fast, and she wanted to know what had transpired in the past twenty-four hours…then she decided, resolutely, it was better if she didn't know. Plausible deniability. Aizawa seemed to read her mind, because a corner of his lips tugged upward in a smirk.

"You should be happy," he said. "I just told you I know who's responsible."

"What are you going to do about it?" she asked, realizing only a moment later the irony — she wanted to know nothing of his last twenty-four hours, only to turn around and demand information regarding the next. Plausible deniability indeed. His smile grew broader. He was reading her like a book.

"Are you sure you want to know?" he taunted.

"No," she admitted.

"I'm going to take him someplace private and have a nice, long talk with him."

He lied through his teeth. Momo shook her head, bile rising in her throat. She covered her mouth with one hand and turned away from him. In her peripheral vision, she saw Aizawa roll his eyes.

"Get over it. You came to me, I'll handle this on my terms."

"Why are you even coming to tell me this except to cause me pain?"

"Because I know you're capable of living with the guilt of duplicity." He reached out and ruffled her hair, a stark contrast to his cold words and icy demeanor. "This will be over tomorrow, Ms. Yaoyorozu. After that you have the rest of your life to learn to live with it."

He turned his back on her and went back to the window, unlocking it. There was a brief moment where his body was nothing but a dark silhouette against the pale moonlight. She blinked, taking a snapshot to save in her memory, and then he was gone.