"He always had more balls than brains," Rin Royichi muttered, the hand holding his cigarette covering his mouth.
"Yeah." Aizawa glanced at the casket in front of them, separated by a few yards and a couple dozen people. Not too many flowers on the lid. "Kind of a dumb shit, wasn't he?"
He held the prayer card between his thumb, pointer, and middle. His thumb rubbed at the laminate, nothing better to do with his hands except put them in his pockets. Aizawa looked around best he could from under the brim of his hat. Sunglasses kept the reflection of the snow out of his eyes. High collar of his jacket hid most of his face.
Five years. Five short years that he'd been free, after that rank amuse-bouche he'd sampled of life behind bars. He, most days, lived as a free man now. He walked on the streets. Drank in bars. Shopped in stores. But funerals were a dicey business. Cops like funerals because people they are hard for show up for them. Aizawa had missed more than a few over the past several years, knowing the main attraction wasn't going to be the corpse. Not worth the damn risk.
Nao Masaharu, though, wasn't a big fish. Not even a small one. He was a dumb shit who made a comfortable living as a crash dummy con man, tossing himself in traffic for insurance money. A dumb shit, but a friend regardless. Broken femurs four times. Broken arms six. Collarbone? Each one at least once. Nao Masaharu was a man who'd spent more time in physical therapy than jail. It hadn't particularly surprised Aizawa to hear that Nao had hit the pavement a little too hard; what was surprising is he'd actually just been driving around on his motorcycle, minding his own business instead of trying to make a dime when it happened.
"I'm gonna head out before a fed shows up," Rin said, tossing his cigarette on the ground and stepping on it with the toe of his loafers. Aizawa couldn't see the lawyer's face; Rin had come dressed to lay low, too.
"I'll be dipping behind you."
"I've got some business with you, Dan." Aizawa glanced at him; only saw a piece of his face. "Relax. Not that kind of business. Nao was stupid, but he took care of his affairs. You know Okano Jun?"
"…Yeah. I know Jun."
"I thought so. I have to go pick up my watch from the jeweler's, but meet me at that cafe near the plaza."
"Yeah, I know the place."
"Good. An hour work for you?"
"That works."
"Good."
Rin put his hands in the pockets of his coat and turned to leave. Loafers crunched the snow underfoot. Winter had come early again this year, but that was fine. It made the rest of the world quiet. Aizawa Shouta, ex-pro Hero and fugitive, yakuza oyabun, knew he was getting closer to his death than birth because he didn't have the patience for the chaos he used to endure. His hair had grown back even longer than it used to be, before his abbreviated prison stint, but it had grown back with streaks of gray. After a week or so of not shaving, it was noticeable in his beard, too. Someone once told him there were no old, free gangsters.
Aizawa watched the casket through the tint of his sunglasses. Heaved a sigh.
Well. Maybe he'd get to be the first.
He kept his hands in his pockets as he finally took a step back, when the rites were done and Nao's remaining family stepped forward to lay a flower atop the casket. He didn't know Nao's family well. The man had no wife, no children. Some siblings, some cousins. There was no one here who he needed to rub elbows with or console. Time to go. And, as he turned, he spotted the cop.
Fuck. There was always one, and Aizawa cursed under his breath.
She couldn't have been anymore conspicuous, at least, that made her easy to spot. A broad woman with soft features, full cheeks. She was dressed in black slacks and a black jacket, and stood at the edge of the crowd with her hands folded in front of her.
Nope, there went that idea. He should've left with Rin, and now he'd have to wait for someone else to leave so he could split without having their undivided attention. Aizawa exhaled and went to settle back in, make himself comfortable for the rest of the service, when another woman came walking toward their group from where all the cars were parked at the curb. His eyes zeroed in on her legs.
What fucking legs they were. The curve of her calves, vanishing beneath the hem of a black pencil dress. Black overcoat. He was wondering who she was while his eyes kept going up, following the generous hourglass of hips into a very, very generous bust. Her dark, dark hair hung loose down to nearly her waist. Girlfriend? How the Hell Nao would've pulled a woman like that was beyond…him…
Thoughts went blank as she came in range of his twenty/twenty vision for him to see the features of her face. Pale skin. Perfect angular jaw. Full lips. And as she took off her sunglasses, steps slowing to a stop beside the cop, Aizawa was blindsided. He watched, completely short of words, as Yaoyorozu Momo leaned to whisper to the cop, and just that fast he turned his back on her. Locked his eyes on the casket. Breathe, dammit. Four, seven, eight. Breathe, man, breathe.
Yaoyorozu Momo. If she had a dossier, he could've read it bulletpoint by bulletpoint in his head. Previously his student at UA back before he'd gone in the lam. Graduate of Shiketsu High — one of many students who had been part of the mass exodus from the prestigious UA following the League of Villain's attack on summer training. He didn't know, hadn't followed, what she'd done after her transfer.
Now for redacted lines.
Yaoyorozu Momo. Daughter of Yaoyorozu Asao, a former yakuza who'd gone straight and worked as a Hero until his recent retirement. She'd successfully conducted an undercover investigation into the yakuza oyabun known as Danchou while she was just a first year at UA. She'd used her quirk to track Danchou undetected for fuck knew how many weeks. And then she'd gone rogue.
Yaoyorozu Momo. She'd covered Danchou's tracks, lied for him, and covered up for him. She'd been a secret accomplice when Danchou attempted to flee from authorities who came to serve an arrest warrant. Then she'd successfully smuggled contraband to him in prison that had been instrumental in Danchou's escape during a prison transfer.
And Aizawa knew all this because Danchou was him.
Those months, which he'd long let die in his thoughts, came alive now. She'd been kidnapped off the street by his kobun, and when the police didn't look into her report she'd decided to do it herself. What she'd found at the end of the mystery was him, her own teacher. He and she had played cat and mouse, trying to outsmart each other, until some of his kobun saw an opportunity to blackmail her parents. He'd killed — shit, he had to stop to think — five? Five people to protect her. And she'd returned the favor tenfold.
Then, there was all the rest…Better not to let those thoughts come back, too.
He exhaled in the cold, breath fogging. Stole a glance to where she and the cop had been. They weren't there anymore. A moment as he glanced around the crowd to look for them. Couldn't see where they'd gone.
And Aizawa wondered, against his better judgement, what she was doing here. He remembered damn well their last meeting. She'd asked how she would find him if she needed him and he'd told her, with no subtly, she wouldn't be able to.
Had she managed anyway?
But what was she doing here with a cop?
He spotted the cop, walking toward the casket with a flower in hand. Momo came back in sight next. The two approached together, laid their flowers, then retreated away to stand in the shadow of a stone. She scanned the crowd, and Aizawa dropped his head. Averted his eyes. To his left, a couple people turned to leave, and he quickly fell in step behind them. It put his back to Momo.
He'd known Momo five years ago, and not a word had passed between them since. Even now, though, he knew if he went to her he could trust her. She was one of the few people he had learned he could place his trust in unconditionally.
The cop with her though? He didn't know her.
He didn't know, either, if Momo would even want to speak. Their business with each other was done.
So instead Aizawa kept his hands in his pockets and walked away. For now.
