Dropshot laid down a stack of paperwork on her desk, and Momo's eyes rose off the documents she was working on to look at the new pile with dismay.

"Not today," the Hero said, as if reading her mind. "I know you leave shortly. But something for you to work on tomorrow."

The one thing that was always glossed over in Hero work was how much paper pushing was involved — and the majority fell to sidekicks and interns, like herself. She'd never seen so much paperwork in her life as what had come across her desk in the last 48 hours. The Shie Hassaikai raid had been the biggest Hero offensive since Heroes had set out to rescue Bakugo from the League of Villains, and she had the paperwork to prove it.

"Good work today," Dropshot commended. "Be here bright and early tomorrow."

Momo nodded her head and watched him leave before settling back into her work. She moved aside the documents she'd been in the midst of to scan the new ones, so she knew exactly how bad her tomorrow was going to be. Her fingers nimbly flipped through the pages — then slowed. She went back a few pages, eyes scanning, then bit her lip. Key words stuck in her mind as she read.

Pro Hero Eraser Head—

Captured—

Exploration of quirk-erasing ability—

Remain on-site at Hospital with victim—

A knock on the door made her look up. It was Majestic.

"You're here late," was all he commented, and it was all he needed to. Momo quickly bowed her head and began straightening the papers.

"I'm sorry, sir, I lost track of time."

Majestic only nodded, and then he was gone. Momo glanced over the document in her hand one more time before she stacked them back up, and left.

She didn't go home; she went to the hospital instead. If she hadn't seen the paperwork, she would've asked for Aizawa Shouta. Instead she flashed her badge for Majestic's agency and said she was there to see the girl, Eri.

"She's mostly been asleep," the nurse said tenderly, pointing down the hall. "She went through an ordeal, to say the least."

Aizawa's eyes met hers as she paused in the door.

"You can come in," he said after a moment's hesitation. "She's asleep, but if it's more paperwork I'll take it."

"I didn't come to see her," Momo admitted, stepping into the room and gently closing the door behind her.

Her eyes drifted to the small, fragile girl in the hospital bed. Her arms, lying on top of the blankets, were swathed with bandages and there was an IV in her hand.

She hadn't seen him in weeks. Not since that night she'd kissed him. She hadn't expected him to change or anything, but he looked tired — the kind of exhaustion that sleep alone cannot cure. He hadn't shaved in several days, and the shadow of facial hair across his jaw and around his mouth was thicker than usual. The sharp rejection came back up seeing him now, piercing and as fresh as it had been that night. He surveyed her from his seat, and she wished she could read his expression.

"You volunteered for that raid," she stated. "It wasn't out of thoughtfulness to protect a girl though, was it."

The corner of his lip turned upward.

"No. It wasn't."

"You were captured. Another Yakuza family captured you, and if they'd known who they really had this hands on—"

"It would've made the experience significantly more interesting to say the least." Aizawa reclined back in his chair as much as he could. "Not having you in class, I almost began to forget how astute you can be. You might have a nose for this."

"Did they really create quirk-erasing bullets?" she asked.

"Yeah. Togata had his quirk erased. It's too soon to see if it's permanent. That villain, Overhaul, he did a number on this girl. Years of testing and experimenting, using her quirk as the basis to manufacture them."

Momo's brows creased in sympathy. She'd read the report over, but the language and jargon was so…detached. It was official and calculated, meant to relay on the facts. They wiped the tears off before they put it on paper. To hear him say it like that though, and to look at the small, vulnerable child, made her inhaled a deep breath.

"How did you manage to transfer into Shiketsu so quickly?" Aizawa asked, leaning his jaw into his palm. "You were supposed to be considered for admission after the provisional license exam."

"My father—"

He shook his head pointedly, cutting her off.

"Don't start lying to me now," he said. "Your father doesn't have that kind of sway."

She hesitated. Then, "I don't think I should tell you."

Fine lines around his mouth deepened as he pursed his lips together hard.

"That bad, huh? Is your father footing the bill or are you?"

Momo bit her lip, then lifted her chin. "I am."

Aizawa exhaled. "You're a kid, Momo. You're going to make mistakes." He shook his head. "God, you make some big mistakes though. Leaving UA, it's not worth the price you're paying."

She wanted to tell him it might be. That she wasn't his student now, and that if he felt even a little of what she did…But the words never even made it out of her stomach. What had she expected? To come here and tell him they were in the clear, and have him profess his devotion to her? She realized, abruptly, how foolish she was. She stared into his eyes as the light in her died. Suffocated at last, she finally looked away.

"I have to go," she said. "My family is expecting me."

He didn't make a move to bid her goodbye, and Momo turned her back on him, chewing on the inside of her cheek. There was fresh hurt — an open cut, not quite fresh, but still stinging now that the air hit it. She didn't cry this time. She went home and fell asleep with the TV on. In the morning, she awoke before her alarm.

The stack of papers sat on her desk when she returned to the agency the next morning, ready to remind her of their conversation. Momo shuffled through them now, organizing them so that they could be recorded and filed. She opened one folder at a time, sorting the documents.

Her eyes went wide.

Momo flipped through the documents in the folder in her hand, staring in disbelief at the reports. She closed the folder and buried it back in her pile. Her heart was pounding. Thud-ump. Thud-ump. Now wasn't the time to be rash or hasty. She had to think. Momo fingered through the stack again, plucking a few pages then headed for the door. She ducked past Dropshot's office; he wasn't there, but two sidekicks were and she caught a line as they spoke.

"—said he had it on his desk yesterday."

She stuck her head into the HR office.

"I have to run an errand," she said, holding up the papers for them to see. The person at the desk closest to the door held out an empty 9x12 envelope to her then issued the requisite wave of approval. Once she was out of sight, Momo rushed for the door.

She hadn't driven today. The subway was likely going to be faster than if she tried to drive through the morning rush hour traffic, but the reality of that didn't strike her until the doors opened to the crowded subway car.

Bodies crammed in around her, and Momo shut her eyes. The envelope she'd tucked the papers into was softening from her sweaty palms. She forced herself to breath. In for four. Hold for seven. Exhale for eight. When the metal doors slid open, she all but lunged out.

"I need to see Eraser Head," she said, trying not to sound too out of breath when she finally reach the nurses' station. "I'm from Majestic's agency, I have some paperwork that needs signatures."

With their permission granted, she had to remind herself to walk, not run, to the room.

He was still in the chair she'd last seen him in, and he sat with his visor hanging around his neck. His head was bent forward, and the steady, telltale rise and fall of his chest told her he was asleep, as was the girl in the bed. His eyes opened when he heard her footsteps crossing the room. Momo created a pen and took a knee on the floor beside him, pulling out the papers.

"Start signing these," she whispered.

He sat up straighter, hearing the urgency in her tone, and took the pen.

"What's wrong?" he asked, scribbling his name across the bottom line.

"They know," she breathed in his ear. "You've been under surveillance for months. They have a warrant for your arrest."

Aizawa's head snapped in her direction, and they locked eyes. He was just a hairsbreadth away. But it was only for a moment. He looked away, handing her the pen. A nurse walked by then and she said, louder, "I'm sorry to wake you up for this, I know you're tired, Mr. Aizawa."

"Can I sign the rest of these after I have some coffee?" he said, putting the papers back in her hands.

"Of course."

They both rose to their feet. Her hands were trembling as she looked at him. He didn't seem nervous, only surprised. Their gazes met, and she took a mental snapshot of him standing silhouetted against the hospital room. The expression on his face was, if anything, determined. He was ready for this, she realized.

"Go," she whispered.

He turned away from her as Majestic entered the hospital room. Her mentor's eyes immediately went from Aizawa to her. Momo swallowed hard.

"What are you doing here, Yaoyorozu?" Majestic asked as Dropshot came up behind him. Aizawa stood between them, and she could already read his posture. He was on the defense, waiting for them to make their move.

"There were more papers that needed to be signed off on," she said innocently, then offered. "Do you need another statement? I can take that, I've done a few before."

"Can you step out," Majestic said instead, his tone neutral and expression cool. She noticed Aizawa widen his stance slightly, as though the threat was directed toward her — not him.

Momo paused, sparing a glance at Aizawa before she began to walk past him. His arm snapped out, grabbing her around the throat and yanking her in front of him. He grabbed her wrists behind her back. Her gasp was genuine, and Majestic and Dropshot took a step forward.

"Come any closer," Aizawa said casually against, his mouth near her ear, "and I'll open her up."

He stroked a blade against the soft skin of her throat, and she sucked in a shallow breath. She hadn't even seen him go for a knife.

"Let her go, Eraser Head. There's nowhere for you to run."

"Don't call me that." Aizawa laughed, low in his throat. He pulled on her wrists, guiding her back a couple steps, putting more distance between them and the Heroes.

Momo inhaled, and felt the edge of the knife dig into her skin. "Mr. Aizawa," she whispered, her eyes locked on Majestic. "I—I don't understand—"

"And you don't need to," he answered. He made her take another step back. Then, to Majestic, "I didn't think they'd send someone so…capable when the time came."

"You didn't think we'd find out as much as we did then, did you, Danchou."

Aizawa squeezed her wrists, and Momo tilted her head back slightly, giving him more of her throat. He flicked his wrist, taking the blade away, and he let go of her. She felt him take a step backward, away from her.

"Well, Kannagi, at least you can say you tried."

There was a deafening crash behind her, and Momo instinctively dropped to the ground, covering her head with her arms. Majestic was past her in a second, and Dropshot knelt beside her, pulling her away from the broken window behind her. There was shouting outside. Momo pushed herself away from Dropshot, scrambling to her feet in her rush for the window.

Aizawa laid on the pavement with a hood over his head, Gang Orca kneeling on his back. Even from here she could see the threads binding him — Best Jeanist stood nearby. Momo's lip trembled, watching as police moved in, guns drawn.

"Are you okay?" Dropshot was asking. She was crying now, and his mistook her tears as the police pulled Aizawa to his feet, walking him to a police cruiser. "It's over. You're safe now."