So, a few quick things to run over! First, for anyone curious, the song Mic was forcing everyone to sing in the first chapter was supposed to be Toxic by Britney Spears - you can thank corndog-patrol for that one.

Two, a comment by Lucarn over on AO3 for this story is the sole reason for the first scene in this chapter. They brought up some good observations about Mic and how he acts in this AU versus how Aizawa reacts to him. Overall, I had far too much fun.

Three, there's fanart specifically made for this story and not the other way around! Corndog-patrol drew a beautiful scene from chapter one where Present Mic is first introduced - I almost screamed, to be honest. Go check it out and give it some love - corndog-patrol tumblr com/post/181753407328

Remember to check me out at ibelieveinahappilyeverafter on tumblr to check out my other stuff or simply show me some support.

Enjoy!

"It doesn't make sense." The resonating sound of typing keys paused to make way for utter silence for a moment before they continued slower, letting Shota know that he was being listened to. "That villain I was telling you about? He doesn't make sense."

"The loud one with the leather fetish who you seem to have a thing for?" Leave it to the 18+ hero herself to say a sentence like that one, Shota mused.

"Besides the last part of that sentence, yes." Idly spinning his pen, Shota stared down at the essay that was more red ink than black, at this point. He really did need to have a discussion with some of his students about the importance of hero ethics. "He acts like a weak villain who's not a threat."

"Acts?" Kayama Nemuri perked up at the promise of something interesting to gossip about like the hellhound she was, rolling her chair closer to Shota. "What do you mean he acts like a weak villain?"

"Every time I've run up against him before the last time we met he's either defeated after a few punches or he manages to get himself caught in his own traps." At the smothered laugh, Shota rolled his eyes, hiding his own amusement. "He's persistent."

"That's one word for it. You said it was different last time? What happened? That was the same night you arrested part of the Drake Gang, right?"

"A few of the lower ranked ones," Shota nodded, writing a note to see him after class on the essay he was grading. "We have a few promising leads now, however."

"You're so mean to your students," Nemuri muttered as she saw the final grade. "It'd be kinder to expel him, at this point."

"He has promise," Shota shrugged. "Barely. Oh, and half of those that were arrested were already knocked out when I got there."

"What? How- Who?" Ah, that got her attention. Taking a long moment to straighten his stack of work that was already graded, Shota prevented the grin that wanted to form at hearing the loud whine. "Shota."

"Present Mic." Seeing the surprised look out of the corner of his eye, Shota nodded. "There were seven total members and they were decent fighters. A few of them seem to have been a part of the gang since it first started up. Five of them were already unconscious when I arrived. He didn't even look tired."

"A set up to get in an with the police?" That had been his thinking, at first, but a set up wouldn't involve one of the gang members looking like he had his face smashed against the ground a half dozen times.

"Too thorough." Shota sighed, pulling out the next essay. At least this one wouldn't have as many mistakes - hopefully. "He's not a part of any of their circles. The worst I've caught him at is setting fire to the contracts and receipts of a thrift store because the owner overcharged people and was unfair."

"Sounds more like a vigilante than a villain," Nemuri said quietly, voicing Shota's own thoughts. "Are you sure-"

"He called himself 'the Voice Villain' the first time I arrested him. He had also been forcing the entire bar to sing along to some American song."

"Absolutely heinous," Nemuri deadpanned, kicking out at Shota's chair to send him rolling a few inches away. "So he kicked their asses. So what? That doesn't mean he's that strong."

"There was a difference." Shota placed his pen down, leaning back in his seat to stare up at the ceiling, thoughts focused on that last fight. "When we fought before he's always come across as clumsy without any type of fighting experience. This time was different."

"How different?" Well, for starters, Shota still had a few bruises from some of the kicks and punches Present Mic had thrown out. "That's your reluctantly impressed grimace, you know."

"He fought like he knew what he was doing, this time. As soon as the seven gang members were unconscious, we started fighting, and he was a lot faster and stronger than he had been before. He was also two or three steps ahead of me the whole time. He was analyzing my moves and predicting where I would attack next."

"Huh. That is interesting." Nemuri leaned back, rolling across the floor with the motion as she hummed. "So, then, you're upset your little boy toy can fight back? You don't seem all that upset. Ooh, Shota, why didn't you tell me you liked a fight?"

As soon as she rolled back towards him, Shota was kicking her chair away as far as he could with as little effort as possible. "Shut up," he muttered, giving her a glare. "It doesn't make sense. He didn't fight like he was trained, but he had experience, and he had the brains to predict my movements and react accordingly - even though he's slower. Why would he put on this whole show of pretending he's some incompetent villain?"

"Hm. You said he knew your hero name when you first met, right? Maybe it's some ploy to get to you? That would explain all the flirting."

"I thought you said the flirting was because he wanted to fuck me," Shota shot back as the door to the teacher's lounge of U. A. opened, Shota trying to keep his face blank he looked to see Sekijiro standing there with a cup of what was no doubt cold coffee.

"Hey, Vlad King," Nemuri chirped, sounding horribly cheerful. "I was just telling our dear Eraserhead-"

"I don't need to know." The door closed quietly, but firmly, Sekijiro no doubt going back to hide in his classroom. Shota almost wished he could do the same.

"Look what you did," Nemuri scolded before cackling as Shota threw a pen at her. "Alright, alright, so do you think he's in some plan to take Eraserhead down, then?"

"No." Shota had done some poking around at the police station and while they had never bothered to find out Present Mic's real name since he was, in their words, 'not enough of a threat to warrant the energy,' he had found out a few things. "Most of what he does is either to cause enough trouble to be annoying or because he was helping someone. The Drake Gang members he defeated apparently liked to abuse and threaten teenagers until they agreed to join."

"Like I said, Shota, he sounds like a vigilante. Maybe he's one of those who thinks heroes aren't all they're cracked up to be, but he still wants to help."

"Maybe," Shota finally conceded, letting Nemuri roll back in close to him. "He's interesting, though." He also seemed fixated on Shota, which was something he'd have to deal with, eventually.

"Let me know whenever you're ready for the talk on safe sex-" This time, Shota kicked her chair hard enough to topple it over.

::

Over the weeks that Shota fought against Present Mic, he noticed quite a few things about the man who claimed to be a villain. The most annoying trait seemed to be his prosperity for talking in English. The little phrases he threw out were never too troublesome, but the pet names were starting to get on his nerves.

"Come on, baby, you know I'm just going to come straight back to you." The 'baby' and 'darling' and 'sweetheart' that were always said in English had Shota contemplating gagging the man, but after dealing with Nemuri for so long, he feared that would only encourage the man further seeing how similar he was to Nemuri some days.

"I doubt there's anything straight about you." Shota also, regrettably, had the tendency to mutter little comments that Present Mic always seemed to hear. It was hardly his fault when he worked at a high school for a career and had Kayama Nemuri as a friend.

"You would be correct!" The man's voice was always so cheerful considering Shota usually dealt with him around four and five in the morning. "How about you, darling? How straight are you?"

After that encounter, Shota had taken to always making sure he had a pair of handcuffs on him. Tying him up with the scarf only seemed to encourage him. Present Mic finding out that Shota wasn't exactly straight himself had encouraged him enough already.

It wasn't until almost three months into Present Mic's archenemy game that Shota discovered his quirk, though, and he hadn't been lying about being the 'Voice Villain.'

"Oi, oi, didn't your mothers ever teach you to play nice with others!" Mic's voice had been loud enough to echo out into the street when Shota had arrived at a bar that had been held together by nothing except prayer and luck. He had been responding to a call about a group of people using their quirks at the bar, but he hadn't expected to run into Mic, of all villains.

Lingering by the door, he had seen that Mic had been pinned against the wall by four villains with some powerful quirks, two people passed out on the floor and everyone else gone or cowering in a corner.

"C'mon, man, don't be a hero!"

"Thought you were some villain or something, Present Mic. You could join us, you know. Make an even bigger splash than before."

At the offer from the one who looked to be in charge, Shota clutched at his capture weapon and felt a pang of something before Mic was laughing and shaking his head.

"And what? Beat up innocent people just to make a point? I think I'm fine with where I'm at, thanks." Mic sucked in a large breath of air as the four charged at him at once. Shota swore and had started to activate his quirk, but he didn't need to. "Now play nice!"

The last word was screamed out, Shota throwing his hands over his ears on instinct as he watched all four men collapse to the ground, mouths open in what could only be a scream as they clutched and scratched at their heads while pieces of ceiling fell down around them.

At least Shota knew what the speaker around Mic's neck was for. It had to have been directing the soundwaves into something more pinpoint accurate, otherwise he had no doubt he'd be on the ground as well. While the speaker at least made sense, now, that still didn't explain his poor taste in leather or the mistake on his face that was supposed to be facial hair.

Seeing one man passed out and blood beginning to drip from the ears of all of them, Shota looked to Mic and activated his quirk. The sound cut off quick enough that there was a ringing in his ears as he lowered his hands, but he made sure to keep his gaze on Mic as he let himself take in the damage done to the bar that he could see. He'd let the police handle that it, he figured.

Focusing back on Mic, he frowned at seeing the man had a hand to his throat and looked… panicked. Ah, of course he'd be panicked. He probably hadn't seen or heard Shota come in and Shota had never had to use Erasure on him before. It didn't take long for Mic to look around before seeing him, shoulders dropping and tension draining out of him as Shota let go of his quirk.

"And how are you doing this lovely evening, hero?" Mm. Maybe he should have kept Erasure up for a bit longer.

"I was doing fine until I had to see your face."

"As always, Eraser, your words cut deeply."

The things he learned about Present Mic hadn't stopped there, either. Since the man had never been in jail for longer than a week or so at a time, he ended up running into him more than he did any other gang or villain he had to face.

"You didn't have to shatter them." Mic was whining and grumbling and complaining like a toddler who hadn't gotten his way, shuffling along with Shota towards the police station.

"That's what happens when you start a fight at a club and punch the DJ in the face," Shota replied easily, narrowing his eyes when Mic stumbled beside him. While the man was often clumsy, or pretended to be, he never really stumbled over his own feet when they were walking.

"He deserved it! Did you hear the music he was playing? He wasn't even matching the tempo of the songs when they changed! It was terrible, Eraser!" As he talked, Mic stumbled two more times and almost fell flat on the ground when Shota stopped them both. "What? What's happening? Are we about to die?"

"You keep stumbling. Why? You're not bleeding that badly. Do you have a concussion?" The man's pupils were a little blown now that he was looking. "What's today's date?" Shota was given a very unimpressed look before Mic rambled off the date, his 'name,' the current government leaders, and the news headlines of the last three days as well as the current top ten heroes. Shot could barely remember who the number three hero was, so he just nodded along. "You're still stumbling."

"Yeah, well, that's what happens when you punch someone in the face." Mic looked betrayed and Shota only shrugged. Mic had been annoying, and it had been a fight. He just felt proud that he had managed to destroy those hideous orange sunglasses. Sunglasses. Glasses. "Really, Eraser, you're starting to make me think-"

"Were those prescription?" Shota knew the answer when Mic tensed up and looked away for the briefest of seconds before looking back with a wide smile. Shota didn't let him speak. "How bad is your vision?"

"Ah, well, does anybody have perfect vision, these days? It's fine, really, I'm just a little nearsighted." A little. That might have been believable if the man hadn't stumbled so many times. "Aw, are you feeling guilty, hero?"

"No." A little, but not much, considering how annoying the man could be. The pride of destroying those monsters had vanished, though. "Why don't you just use regular glasses?" The sunglasses were just… ugly.

"I do have a look to maintain, you know!" Mic complained as they started walking again, Shota a little more careful in where he pushed the man to walk. It was a minute or so of blissful silence before he heard Mic mumble. "I… also have problems with light sensitivity."

"Mm." That at least made Shota hate the glasses less - although not by much. "Enough to wear them at night?"

"I get headaches from light sources if they're too bright," Mic said, still quieter than usual - at least, quiet for him. "I can wear hats, but they're not as effective."

Shoat hummed, looking over, "You have spares?"

"Oh, um, yes." Good. That meant Shota didn't have to worry about guiltily buying a new pair or something else equally ridiculous. "Aw, are you worried about me, Eraser?"

"Would you like me to explain in detail how the DJ managed to kick you-"

"Okay, okay, I'm shutting up!" The silence only lasted for a few seconds, but at least the idiot was smiling again.

Hours later, when Shota was comfortably tucked away in his bed under half a dozen blankets and unable to fall asleep, he knew something was wrong when he couldn't get Present Mic's bright, sunshine smile out of his mind.