Ha, well, this chapter got away from me! I had a lot of fun with it, though, so hopefully you all will, too! The first scene is directly inspired by one of the comics that corndog-patrol did for this AU that can be found here: corndog-patrol tumblr com/post/180967517776. For those who are curious immediately, the song is I Can't Decide by the Scissor Sisters. It's a very Villain!Mic song.

Edit - The previous chapters have been edited to where Shota refers to Kayama Nemuri as Nemuri instead of Kayama. This change was due to the fact that I thought Kayama was her first name. Wiki did me wrong, y'all.

Remember you can check out my tumblr blog over at ibelieveinahappilyeverafter where I'm always writing, editing, and getting up to stupid shenanigans!

Enjoy!

There were times where every pro hero made mistakes in their career, whether the ensuing results were small or not. Shota remembered the lessons his teachers had given his class when he had attended U.A., and some of them had been grim. There was no saving everyone, there would be battles where one would never be able to learn from the mistakes made, and there would be some mistakes that would be made that could have been preventable.

Shota had become too comfortable and secure in his routine. He knew he had that drawback - as did many other heroes - but he hadn't expected it to end with him tied to a chair. A little wiggling showed that he wouldn't be escaping the ropes unless he managed to break the chair or dislocate a shoulder and, considering he didn't see his capture weapon anywhere, he was hesitant to put himself in a position where he would only be fighting with one hand.

"Well, well… Looks like the infamous Eraserhead can be caught after all." Glaring up at the man in front of him, Shota narrowed his eyes when he was only met with laughter. "Come on, Eraser, let me have my fun! I've been at this for so long now."

"You know kidnapping a pro hero is an actual act of villainy, don't you?" Shota glared at where Present Mic was staring at him with a wide grin and crossed arms. For as much annoyance as he felt, he couldn't really bring himself to feel worried.

"Of course I do! How many times do we have to go over the fact that I, Present Mic, being of sound mind-" Present Mic stumbled over the words when Shota gave a quiet laugh. "Oi! Don't be mean!"

"Alright. You've captured me. Now what?" There was a stretched silence, Shota not surprised when Mic finally broke his gaze. If there was one thing he had learned after all these months, it was that Present Mic couldn't harm a soul to save his life. He really was such a terrible villain. "What? No plan?"

"Well," Mic said, drawing the word out before a sharp grin was back. "I could always sing to you, if you want."

"I don't." Shota glanced around the room they were in, wrinkling his nose at seeing it was a drafty, old room that looked to be a part of a closed or condemned building. That just meant he could be anywhere along his usual patrol route, though.

"Too bad." That was all it took for Mic, a man born without any sense of shame, to begin singing a song in English that had Shota rolling his eyes. Present Mic, it seemed, was fond of anything in English, but he seemed to speak the language well enough. As he sang, Shota noticed he even had a tinge of an American accent and he wondered if that was a side effect of his quirk or if he had spent time in America. Could he mimic sounds and other voices? That seemed like it would be useful for underground work.

"I'm not a gangster tonight." The touch of a hand on his shoulder slightly startled Shota, but not enough for him to show it as Mic pranced around him like he was having the time of his life. Shota really shouldn't be surprised. Present Mic's 'debut' involved forcing people to sing karaoke. "Don't wanna be a bad guy!"

Maybe if Shota avoided eye contact and did his best to pretend, he wasn't there it would end sooner. He knew enough English to get along, but not enough that he couldn't tune it out to a background murmur if he wanted – or needed, in this case.

"I'm just a loner, baby." The hand was on his other shoulder this time and Shota felt how close Mic was. He made sure to not give him the attention he apparently needed to survive. "And now you've gotten in my way!"

An arm was around his shoulder, a hand on his chest, and Shota kept his head turned and his gaze as far to the right as possible. He was starting to regret putting up with this man's behavior when it seemed to have only encouraged him.

"I can't decide whether you should live or die!" The man was 'dancing' around the room and Shota took the chance to at least roll his eyes. One of them was having fun, it seemed. With the distance, though, it did give Shota the chance to notice that Mic wasn't wearing his typical leather jacket or the speaker system around his neck and was instead in just a plain white shirt. Shota wasn't sure if that was a good sign or a bad one. "Oh, you'll probably go to heaven, please don't hang your head and cry."

Huh. Listening to the lyrics, this seemed like a very dark song for someone like Present Mic. Shota wasn't worried until a heavy leather boot landed between his legs and pressed against the chair he was in, Mic's arm thrown over his eyes dramatically, "No wonder my heart feels dead inside!"

A sudden push and Shota felt himself fall towards the ground back first. "It's cold and hard and petrified!" Grunting at the jarring fall, Shota looked up to see that Mic's boot was still on the same part of the chair and pinning him down, Mic's smile wide and wicked as he leaned over and pushed up his glasses to give a wink of green eyes that were so bright they almost glowed, "Lock the doors and close the blinds, we're goin' for a ride!"

For a single moment, Shota could only feel shock as he stared up at Mic before the man was pushing off and dramatically dancing around the room as he sang the rest of the song. Shota stayed on the ground and his shock quickly turned to embarrassed anger because why the fuck had Present Mic looked, to borrow Nemuri's words, fuckable.

Right. Shota could have a crisis over this, later. The one thing Mic had neglected to do, it seemed, was check his pockets, and, luckily for him, Shota's knife was now right near his fingertips.

It took a little under seven minutes for Shota to break his bonds, get Mic to stop his ridiculous singing, and pin the man enough that he could start to handcuff him. He may have put a bit too much force behind a few of his punches, but that's what the man deserved for frustrating him so badly. Shoat hated that he could already imagine Nemuri's comments when she found out about this little debacle.

"I wasn't really going to kill you!" Mic whined, staying still as Shota fit the handcuffs around his wrists. Shota was only a touch amused that the man always gave in and complacently let himself be cuffed once he was pinned and beaten.

"Tell that to the cops, you melodramatic Disney villain." That amusement was overwhelmingly drowned out by annoyance and anger because Shota was still having an inner crisis. For as much as he insisted the other man wasn't a villain, he was a criminal at the very least. Shota decided that he wasn't even going to let his thoughts continue in that direction. It was too embarrassing.

"Boo." Mic puffed his cheeks out and looked like the social mess he was again. Maybe Shota had been having Stockholm Syndrome symptoms because there was no other way that he had suddenly found Present Mic attractive when Shota had been tied up and unable to move with the man smugly standing over him.

Fuck. Nemuri was going to tease him for years if she ever found out about this. Right. He could never drink around her again.

"Oh, Eraser, your scarf is over in the other room." Pausing, Shota blinked down at Mic, who gave him a little smile. "I didn't want to lose it. Steel wire alloy woven with carbon nanofibers, right? Sounds expensive."

"How did you know that?" This was what always threw Shota for a loop. The man had just pranced around the room and sang a song after capturing him like this was all a game, and now here he was with a look in his eyes that was far too clever for someone who acted like an idiot.

"It wasn't that hard to guess," Mic grumbled, rolling his eyes as he shuffled towards the other room, not even trying to make a break for it. "It was pretty easy to be sure, though, when your scarf didn't work quite right around that one gang member with the fire quirk we fought. Those are the only kinds of materials that would be affected by heat like that - not to mention carbon nanofibers would be the only thing that would be able to handle the steel alloy without the scarf itself being ripped to shreds – especially considering what you put it through."

Shota stared at Mic for a long moment, finally sighing as he rubbed at his eyes. His voice was soft, though, when he finally spoke, "Why are you doing all of this? You're obviously not an idiot."

"No, I'm not." Startled at that, he looked to where Mic was nudging his leather jacket aside with his foot, Shota's capture weapon wrapped up neatly in the corner of the room. A swift kick and it was sliding over to stop in front of Shota's feet. "Hey, can you pick up my jacket for me?"

"You can't do it yourself." Grinning at the glare he was given, Shota made sure the familiar weight of his weapon was around his neck and shoulders before picking up the jacket, noticing the speaker nearby. "That's a directional speaker for your quirk, right? Where did you get it?"

"Hm? Oh, I designed most of it myself, but I know this guy who was able to do the actual building of it." Mic looked up from his jacket and paused at seeing Shota's expression before giving a grin that was almost teasing. "Hey, hey, enough with the pity looks, hero. I don't need them."

"Mm." This man was smart enough that he could have done so many things, but here he was in a horrible area playing at being villain for a reason Shota couldn't figure out. It seemed the more they talked, though, the less Mic hid behind that bright, goofy behavior - although he was still far too loud and cheerful.

"Right, then! I need something out of the right pocket. You can either get it yourself or you can make me get it. Depends on if you think it's a trap or a weapon, I suppose, but then again, would I really hurt you, hero?" It was ridiculous that the English nickname was what made Shota's mind up for him.

Shota held the jacket out, Mic pouting as he turned around and tried reaching into one of the pockets while his hands were still cuffed. It was more amusing than it probably should have been considering Mic's leather gloves weren't helping him in getting into the pockets. "I can hear your laughter, Eraser."

"You're mistaken. I don't laugh." Shota hid his smile as Mic struggled for a minute or two before finally pulling out a plastic bag that had a white business card inside. "Handing out business cards?"

"I'm not," Mic muttered, tone dark. It was a tone that made Shota straighten up at once before narrowing his eyes. "It was given to me a little over a week ago when I was at this club. The guy seemed like bad news and was talking about how people were interested in my quirk. I don't think they know much about it because they offered to make it stronger instead of just kidnapping me."

The way the words were said, simple and matter-of-fact, made Shota frown as he thought about Mic's quirk. It was a voice amplifying quirk which sounded simple enough, but remembering back to the bar… How dangerous did Present Mic think his quirk was if he fought most of the time without it? How powerful was it if villains were already wanting to use it? Shota sighed, looking back to the card, "And? How'd they offer to make it stronger."

"The guy called it Trigger-" The rest of the words cut off with a yelp as Shota slammed Mic against the wall, gripping his chin and forcing the man's mouth to open as his heart near beat its way out of his chest. When he saw the tongue - pink, not black - Shota almost slumped in relief. "Oi, oi, if you wanted a kiss, then all you had to do was ask!"

"Shut up, you idiot. Trigger turns the tongue black." It was also one of the more dangerous drugs still out on the street even though Shota had spent the last few years trying to get rid of it.

Shota forced the thoughts out of his head and glared at him, knowing it was a weak glare when Mic's face softened, his voice quiet when he spoke again, "Like I said, the guy felt dangerous. I didn't touch the card and I didn't take whatever drug he attached. I don't know if it's laced or anything, but you might find a fingerprint on there if you check."

"You're a terrible villain," Shota finally said, letting go of Mic and tucking the covered card away in one of his pouches before he was bending down to grab the leather jacket and speaker system. "Come on. The police are going to want to know there's Trigger in this area."

"Not like they'll care," Mic snorted, tone bitter as he followed him. "You're the only hero that ever seems to come this far into the area, you know. The rest of them don't give a damn what happens to people here, and if you call yourself a hero we all know what a joke it is."

"Is that why you call yourself a villain and end up helping?" Shota knew pushing wasn't going to give him any answers, but he couldn't help but want to know as much as he could about this man.

"Spoilers, baby," Mic grinned, sunglasses slipping down as he gave a little wink. "I just figured a hero that's actually going to do something should get that."

"Was the kidnapping even necessary, then?" Because Shota hadn't been a fan of being tied to a chair. Waiting for Mic's laugh and flirtatious joking, Shota frowned when it didn't come. "Mic?"

"They knew my quirk and they knew where to find me to give me that card," Mic finally said, voice quiet as he glanced around the street when they stepped outside. "That means on some level they're watching me, and, well… Only a villain would kidnap a hero, right?"

As they walked to the closest precinct, Shota knew he had been given a lot to think about. Setting aside his… feelings for the man, Shota could see in a purely objective sense that this man wasn't a villain.

If Present Mic were to ever become a true villain, he would be unstoppable.

::

"Maybe I should have ripped his tongue out," Shota said quietly, a warbling meow his own answer to his musings. "Then I wouldn't be hearing his voice everywhere, at least." He also wouldn't be daydreaming about that last week when Present Mic had kidnapped him and sang to him. It seemed no matter how he tried to drown it out - whether with radio or television - he just kept hearing the man's voice and seeing that stupid, sunshine smile. It was a good thing Shota never fought Present Mic in the day. The sun was already bright enough, and he didn't need to put up with that and Mic's smile.

It was getting bad. Nemuri had already caught on that Shota was hiding something from her and seemed to be narrowing the cause down each day. It wouldn't take long until she guessed right, and Shota would be forced to move to another country. Maybe he could have Nemuri deal with Present Mic from now on. No, that was a bad idea, Mic would just come to his apartment since he apparently knew where he lived.

Maybe he should move? Hm. That seemed like a lot of effort when he was already settled in a nice little apartment that was close to his agency and close to U.A. He'd move if Mic broke in. Maybe.

Hearing Mic's voice filter through his thoughts again, Shota groaned and laid down on his couch, Jelly not bothering to move from where she was on his lap. It took a long few moments to realize that the voice wasn't in his head.

"-who just released a killer album last month! I'd definitely recommend checking them out!" That was Mic's voice. No one else could put that much enthusiasm in words. Scrambling to sit up, Shota stared at his radio that he had turned on to fill up the silence. It was on a radio station that he honestly couldn't remember, but he knew he had listened to it before around his time of night and had yet to hear that voice. "Next up… Oh, man, next up these idiots had some truly horrendous music they were about to play you. Not to worry though, listeners, because Present Mic is here to set the record straight!"

Shota was off the couch and halfway to the door when another song started to play, his capture weapon settling around his shoulders. While it was his night off, he was sure the police wouldn't mind working with the hero who had become Present Mic's babysitter.

It took a while to find someone who was willing to talk to him about just what was going on, of course, but Shota eventually found out that this wasn't the first time Mic had taken over a radio station. It wasn't even his second or third, according to the police officer he was talking to.

"And no one's reported this?" Shota had his arms crossed, the officer shaking her head with a heavy sigh.

"No, they haven't, and you know how it works. If we don't get reports, then we can't really call for a pro hero in to help."

"That's because the music he plays is actually decent!" An officer from behind the desk was shouting, the woman - Shelly? - glaring back at him. "Come on, admit it, you agree with me."

"Shouldn't you be working, Takamara! I know for a fact you have at least three case files still open!"

"Oi, you're Eraserhead, aren't you?" Hearing his hero name, Shota looked over to a set of chairs, two scantily dressed women handcuffed to them. The one who had spoken looked to be a bit older, but her grin was sharp as Nemuri's. "Present Mic's Eraserhead?"

Giving it a moment of thought, Shota finally responded, "No." This only made the woman laugh, the younger girl behind her looking between them curiously. "What of it?"

"You're looking for him, right? The radio station he's at tonight should be the one down by the bar on Block 10 in this area."

"And why would you be helping me if you know who Present Mic is? He sounds like a friend of yours."

"Oh, baby, that's why I'm helping." Definitely like Nemuri. "Want me to pull up the website on your phone? They do live broadcasts."

"No." Shota took his phone out, holding it out to the girl slightly behind her. "She can do it. I don't trust you."

"I can't believe he loves someone so nasty." While the woman complained, the younger girl carefully took his phone, looking hesitant. "It's okay, Lucy, he's nasty, but he's a good one. He's a friend of Present Mic's."

"I wouldn't say friend," Shota muttered, noticing that Lucy nodded and relaxed before tapping on his phone. The girl looked too young to be handcuffed to a chair in a police station. While her blonde hair looked dyed, the bright white fur on her rabbit mutation quirk at least looked natural. There was still baby fat on her cheeks, Shota noticed.

"You know how it is around here, pro hero," the woman said quietly, gaze going back to Lucy. "We do what we have to." A second later and they heard Mic's voice filtering out from Shota's phone.

"-I mean, it wasn't like it was my fault he fell out the window! Sure, okay, I punched him, but to be fair, he was playing such terrible music, listeners!" It was definitely Mic.

Lucy offered his phone back and Shota took it carefully before thanking her quietly and pocketing the phone, leaving it on before he was setting off. He was starting to wonder just how far Mic was taking this little pretend game of having feelings for him if even people in the police station knew about it.

Taking to the rooftops, Shota listened as Mic continued the show, opening a question and answer segment to inflate his already oversized ego. The first 'question' was someone swearing at him, Mic hanging up with an awkward laugh and quickly taking the next call.

"What was the name of that one song you played after the last time you talked? The one with the line 'the sun never sets.'"

"Oh! That was Unbreakable! It's number sixteen on the charts now and I have no doubt it'll break into the top ten, at the very least!" Huh. Mic seemed to honestly like music, so at least his own persona wasn't a gimmick. "I have a CD of Utada's latest album at my own apartment, and let me tell you listeners, it's great! Now, let's keep it going with the next question!"

"Hi, so, uh, my partner for this class project is working at the station you're at tonight and he still hasn't done his half of the report yet… Did you kill him? I really need a good grade in this class." Shota felt like turning right around and going home and retiring because was there any point in helping people like this?

"Not to worry, dear listener!" Mic sounded like he was having a hard time controlling his laughter and Shota hated how much he liked the sound. "The two usual controllers are safely wrapped up in the other room with no harm done. He'll be able to help no problem!"

"Oh, cool. If you want to punch him, though, that's fine, too. He probably deserves it. Great songs tonight, by the way. Better than the usual trash."

It went like that the entire time it took Shota to get to the radio station where all of this was going on, Shota keeping a portion of his attention on the show, so he could listen for any information that might have helped him.

He didn't think there was any helpful information in knowing Mic's favorite food, color, and animal - okonomiyaki, yellow, and a tie between cockatoos and cats – but he ended up paying more attention than he should have.

When he dropped down in front of the station door - cracked open - Shota heard a viewer ask the very question he had been asking since he had first met Present Mic.

"Present Mic, I was just wondering, why are you a villain when you seem so nice?" There was nothing except dead air as Shota turned his phone off and pushed his way into the building, but a second later he heard Mic's voice over speakers that seemed to be set up throughout the halls so the station always had its own music playing.

"Ah, well… That's a bit of a tough question, listener." Strained didn't even begin to cover how Mic's voice sounded. "Becoming a villain… was a bit of a wakeup call to all the pro heroes out there, I suppose."

A wakeup call? Shota frowned and quietly made his way through the building, sticking to the shadows as he tried to figure out what that could mean. The listener seemed to have the same question, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, dear listener, that it's a wakeup call to the heroes out there that the game they play isn't the same game to others. It's a reminder that all those 'villains' they take down aren't always out to kill anyone or even hurt anyone. They're as much victims as the civilians that get caught up in it all."

Mic's voice was getting more and more serious and Shota couldn't help but feel a touch satisfied that he was at least right in the fact that Mic had a reason to be the villain he claimed. "The system of pro heroes has done a lot of good for our country, but it's done just as much bad in the recent years. Sometimes the system fails, and I wanted to make people see what a failure it was."

Vindication, but done in the name of proving just how bad their system was. Jeez… he was a villain in his actions, but a hero in his beliefs.

"When… When you tell a child that they have a dangerous quirk, what happens to them? When you force that child to never use that quirk that is called dangerous and a villain's quirk, what happens to that child?"

Shota stumbled in his steps as he felt a chill run through him. He knew that the system was bad - especially in places like this and in places where he himself grew up, but the way Mic had said those words left an uncomfortable feeling crawling down his spine. Maybe there was more reason than one as to why Mic never used his quirk.

Just like that, though, Present Mic was laughing and sounding like the persona he had crafted, fun and upbeat and not at all bothered by anything. "Well, thank you listeners for sending such good requests my way and tuning in to all my ramblings! This is going to be my last song of the night, though, because it looks like my time with you all is up tonight."

Wait, what? Why would his time be up? Looking around quickly, Shota frowned at seeing a door at the end of the hall that had the typical red 'On Air' sign above it. Before he could move towards it, there was quiet laughter that came from the speakers, and it was laughter that sounded excited.

"Well? Are you coming in, Eraser?"