Chapter Text
Shouta had no idea how annoying All Might and Endeavor’s (one-sided) rivalry was until Tsukauchi’s patrolling schedule became their latest battleground.
After weeks of shuffling shifts around and pointless meetings, everyone knows when they should be patrolling and where in regards to this new initiative. As all bureaucratic nonsense does, it took a long time to cut the red tape and get through the annoying crap. The main reason it took so long was thanks to All Might and Endeavor’s agencies arguing over the “best” time slots for their respective heroes to represent their agency in the different neighborhoods that are being targeted for Tsukauchi’s initiative.
Every agency has their own way of calculating the risks and benefits of assigning a hero to an area at a certain time. They look at potential for property damage, predicted type and frequency of crime to take place, likelihood of bystanders arriving and providing free exposure and reporting without excessive casualties, and a bunch of other variables that determine the optimal benefit while minimizing the risk of getting stuck with a ridiculous bill due to damage and civilian harm.
There’s actually a lucrative career field for the analytics that take place behind the scenes that determine the best day and time to send a hero to a certain prefecture. Similar to the way tech companies battle to recruit the most talented programmers, hero agencies try to lure data scientists and analytic experts through fancy benefits and high pay.
The general and management tracks at U.A. aren’t as well-known as the hero and support paths, but Shouta has been an advisor for plenty of elite students that were being headhunted by agencies for various reasons. Statistics, analytics, data management, physical therapy, research, public health - as hero agencies grow larger and expand their reach, schools have fought to keep up with the demand for a broad range of specialty professions.
U.A., with its elite reputation, is no different. Nedzu had worked hard to secure funding for a massive data center for their technically-inclined students to take advantage of and use to further their individual education. The hero students never have time outside of their intense physical training to have much of a specialized education, but the other tracks personalize students’ schedules when their potential is recognized, giving them the best opportunity to hone their skills that may not be fostered well in a traditional learning environment.
Shouta has always had an in or two with the big agencies thanks to this approach. He’s not a genius the way some of those kids are/will be, but he had fallback plans if he hadn’t been able to advance to the hero track. Data analytics is something he knows enough about to be considered knowledgeable but not enough to be anything special, so Nedzu had frequently sent non-hero-track students to him for tutoring if none of the gen-ed teachers were available.
Shouta might be an ass, but he’s a decent enough teacher in one-on-one sessions like those tutoring opportunities were. His students always seemed happy enough to see him after graduating, and none of them ever denied his requests for assistance in his own cases if he reached out to them.
This is all to say: he knows that there were far too many arguments between Endeavor Agency and Might Tower over minute details that really won’t make that much of a difference in practice. Most predictions are just that - predictions. Unless Sir Nighteye is involved, there are no guarantees that All Might will have more opportunities to show off on Tuesday at noon as opposed to Wednesday at two. And if Nighteye was wasting his quirk on crap like this, he wouldn’t have made it as far as he has.
If the rivalry had ended there, Shouta would have enjoyed the mental exercise of imagining what those analysts were placing bets on while being annoyed by the pettiness of it all - but he would have gotten over it quickly and gone about his usual activities.
Obviously, Shouta has never been given a break at any point in his life, and this situation isn’t any different.
“I can’t schedule them together,” Tsukauchi says. He has dark bags underneath his eyes that rival Shouta’s, and his signature trench coat is nowhere to be found. His office at the precinct is mostly stark and undecorated, but his desk is covered in papers and empty coffee cups. It’s clear he’s made himself at home, but home has never been anything other than a place to refuel and sleep. It makes Shouta exhausted just to look at him, and he’s suddenly glad that he decided to slump into the available chair off to the side of the detective’s workspace. “All Might would work with anyone and make the best of it, but Endeavor is…”
“An ass?”
“Yes, but I was going to say, ‘dangerously competitive.’”
Shouta tries not to immediately think of Bakugou and fails. “Sounds annoying. But also sounds like it’s not my problem.”
“If you want there to be a neighborhood to keep patrolling, it’s your problem,” he says bluntly. “Endeavor shouldn’t even be involved in an area that’s as densely populated as this one, not with his quirk being what it is. He’s better suited for cities that are less likely to go up in flames if even one tree catches on fire.”
“Izuku said that according to the fan forums he frequents, Endeavor causes an unreasonable amount of property damage. It sounds like you agree.”
Tsukauchi snorts. “Unreasonable might be a bit of a stretch, but the Commission does a good job of explaining away casualties and damage by blaming the villains. Endeavor is good at what he does and I don’t think he would harm a civilian on purpose, but he knows that the Commission will back him since he’s a household name. It makes him less careful than he should be, if you ask me.”
“Huh,” Shouta says. “So, he’s an ass. Again, why is this my problem? All Might can handle him, can’t he?”
“Endeavor is competitive and views All Might as his rival. If it meant getting more credit or recognition that he did something better than All Might, he would do it in a heartbeat, screw the aftermath.”
“So you’re saying that Endeavor could cause some serious damage because he tries to goad All Might into a dick measuring contest every time they’re in the same room, and when All Might doesn’t go for that because he’s got the whole ‘truth, justice, and blindingly bright grin’ thing going on for him, Endeavor gets even more reckless and careless, so people might die.”
Tsukauchi taps his nose lightly, lips curled into a dry grin.
Shouta leans his head back and groans. “Isn’t there another spotlight hero that can patrol with him? Why me? We’re not exactly in the same league.”
“Two reasons. The first: I have to separate Endeavor and All Might, and the only people going solo right now are you and Fat Gum. One of you has to go with All Might, and Present Mic would kill me if I schedule you with someone like Endeavor after he went to so much trouble to protect you.”
“Why does Hizashi have a say in my assignment? He’s not my mother.”
Tsukauchi’s voice is condescending and pitying, which Shouta thinks is uncalled for. “You really have to ask? Use your head, Eraser.”
Shouta does not use his head, because it’d be a waste of time. He already knows that Hizashi is annoyingly persistent when he wants something, so he can’t blame Tsukauchi for taking the path of least resistance. “Alright, whatever. What’s the second reason?”
Without hesitation, Tsukauchi says, “Because I trust you.” Shouta’s head snaps back up, and that wry grin on Tsukauchi’s face has transformed into a softer smile.
“What does trusting me have to do with it? Sounds like you’re trying to butter me up.”
“Maybe a bit,” Tsukauchi admits freely. “I still want to gain your trust, you know. I know you’re holding back. And, for All Might’s sake, I think you’re the best choice.”
“Why? He’s going to miss out on day patrols if he partners with me, which isn’t exactly great for his image.” It doesn’t fit with the mental schema of agency time-hoarding that Shouta has. Tsukauchi, as All Might’s friend and unofficial contact, should be pushing for All Might to work for pretty much any time other than midnight to six in the morning when the majority of civilians are asleep and not watching the streets for a glimpse of glamorous, popular heroes.
Even the most devoted fans have to sleep. Hero chasers tend to weigh the risks and benefits when running after their idol of choice, and the benefits of wandering around the city at two-AM generally aren’t very tantalizing.
Plus - Shouta doesn’t want to work with All Might. There aren’t many people who get under his skin the way Yagi does, and without years of looming death hanging in front of him, All Might must be unbearable to be around. It makes his skin itch to think that he’ll have to play nice with that smiling show dog while keeping all of his secrets from spilling out.
Tsukauchi gives him a shrewd glance, then replies the same way that most people would read off a grocery list. “You’re not blinded by hero worship the way a lot of the younger heroes are, you don’t resent him for being more popular than you the way most older heroes do, and, honestly, I think he’d benefit from being around someone as practical as you are. I also know you’re competent enough to watch his back and smart enough to know that as skilled as he is, he’s still a man and he needs someone who can watch his back and carry their own weight just as much as anyone else.”
Ah.
Yagi must be losing time already.
If Tsukauchi is concerned enough that he wants someone that he knows won’t go to the press if All Might suddenly starts coughing blood, then his decline must already have started. It’ll be a long while until Yagi can’t do hero work at all, but they must be shifting his patrols around and slowly getting other heroes to take over the busier areas and days.
Suddenly, Tsukauchi’s initiative in agreeing to coordinate the heroes around Aldera has another layer to it.
He must have told All Might that taking shifts in the area was the best way for them to get intel on All for One - meanwhile, Tsukauchi is slowly shifting him away from the public eye. All Might wouldn’t agree to decrease his time working at this point, after all, so Tsukauchi’s making the best of the situation.
Keep him out of the public eye, make sure that no one will take advantage of his illness, get the other heroes used to picking up the slack, and maybe Toshinori Yagi will live to retirement.
Shouta’s impressed. He says, “You’re kind of self-serving, aren’t you? Partnering us together just so your boyfriend doesn’t get any splinters?”
It’s a joke, and not even a particularly witty one, so Shouta doesn’t expect any response other than Tsukauchi handing him the file with his new schedule and an exasperated sigh.
That is not the response he gets.
Tsukauchi’s face turns red in one breath, and the second breath has him squeaking, “Pardon?” in an octave that not even Inko’s voice could reach.
Shouta stares. Tsukauchi, somehow, gets redder.
“We’re not - I mean. No. I don’t know what you’re implying, but don’t spread rumors - “
“Is he really your boyfriend?” Shouta asks, perturbed. “Your taste is kinda shit if so.”
“He’s not!” he insists, arms making an “X” and his head shaking fervently. “I don’t know where you got the impression, but please - All Might is essentially my employer, and he’s a close friend only.”
He squints suspiciously. Tsukauchi stares at him earnestly. He narrows his eyes further and slowly says, “Okay. If you say so. But you did say that you trust me, so I won’t say anything if - ”
“I do say so!” he replies quickly. “There’s nothing going on, I can assure you. The tabloids have one thing correct, and that’s the fact that he’s never had a relationship of that kind. All Might isn’t interested in anything like that.”
Shouta looks at Tsukauchi’s red face, then looks away and mumbles, “Kinda sounds like you are, though.”
Tsukauchi stands up suddenly and all but flings a stapled packet of papers at Shouta. As Shouta is trying not to get a papercut, Tsukauchi starts shoving him towards the door and babbles out something like, “ThankyouEraserheadI’llseeyoulaterdon’tbelateforyournextpatrolgoodBYE.”
The door slams shut.
Shouta says, “Rude.”
Ignoring the officer on duty who’s barely awake, he wanders over to the break room that always has some lukewarm coffee available. The coffee maker is probably older than him and the coffee grinds catching up quickly, but it’s plentiful and free which is the best he can ask for on short notice.
There’s an awkward gap of time between now and when he has to pick up Izuku from school. It’s not worth it to go for a walk, nor is it worth it to look over his ongoing cases, nor is it worth it to go get coffee that doesn’t suck.
A disposable cup and reluctant pour later, he’s seated with a not-cold-but-not-really-warm-either cup of mostly coffee grinds. Decades ago, he would’ve been able to chug this without flinching and gone back for seconds, but these days, he’s been spoiled by Inko’s French press and Hizashi’s fancy coffee spots.
Hizashi.
He’s been weird. Not in a concerning way, but in a, “you were hospitalized and I’ll scream if you break any bones anytime soon,” kind of way that is both familiar and unfamiliar. He remembers after the USJ, being covered in bandages and narrating the sports festival with Hizashi mother-henning him in between announcements, so him being concerned about Shouta’s well-being isn’t new.
What’s new is the way he’s being concerned. It’s not the usual performative, over-the-top concern that Shouta’s used to, because most of the care has happened outside of his line of sight.
Hizashi’s talks with Tsukauchi to get all of - this, the patrols, the new hero division in Aldera, all of it - together are the biggest oddity, but he’s also been hanging around more frequently. They already grab coffee at least once a week, where Hizashi has recently refused to let Shouta pay for their drinks, and he shows up at the Midoriyas’ apartment almost every other day, even if it’s just to stop in and say hi.
Their text chain has doubled in only a few weeks, too.
Because he doesn’t have anything else to do until he goes to pick up Izuku, he tugs his phone out of his pocket and scrolls through their conversation idly.
‘ok so hypothetically if u were gonna pick a favorite shape what would it be’
‘square’
‘shoooooooo y aren’t u asleep ~‾͟͟͞(((ꎤ >ㅿ<)̂—̳͟͞͞o that could wait til 2morw!’
‘ur the one who texted me…’
‘b/c i have stuff 2 do wuts ur xcuse i know ur not workin’
‘Can’t sleep.’
‘oh no y not????’
‘idk‘
‘do u wanna call and talk if ur bored looking @ ur screen & typing is just gonna keep u awake longer’
‘Thought u said u have things to do’
‘^ω^’
The next day, Hizashi texted him right before his patrol.
‘hey ik u no wat ur doin but b careful k? heard that fatgum had probs earlier w/some1 & they got away’
‘K thx for the headsup’
‘srsly!!!! Be careful!!!!!!’
‘K’
‘shoutaaaaaa T口T promise!!!!’
‘fine i promise’
‘that didnt sound sincere (￣ε￣)’
‘what do u want from me’
‘pinky promise~?’
‘(-人-) 人 (´∀｀)’
‘SHOUTA THAT WAS SO CUTE WTF’
‘shut up’
‘never i’m screenshotting it (◕▽◕)’
In another time, Shouta might have found the constant attention smothering and demeaning, his pride refusing to accept that others might care for him out of anything other than pity.
Today, he’s scrolling with a small smile, because he’s a sucker for cute things.
And, despite his volume and general boisterousness, Hizashi has always been disgustingly adorable. He knows that Nemuri gets annoyed with the way his texts are nearly incomprehensible with shortened words and emoticons, and more than once, Shouta has had to interpret a text for Izuku when Hizashi was trying to be encouraging.
Shouta thinks it’s cute that he puts so much time into picking emoticons out that he feels the need to rush through typing his actual message. It’s fitting for him.
He’s still scrolling almost twenty minutes later and looking for any indication of what caused Hizashi to cling so tightly when he feels eyes on the back of his neck.
He’s experienced enough to tell the difference between a hostile stare and a friendly gaze, so he doesn’t rush to turn around or immediately go on the defensive. He stretches, puts his phone away, and turns around to see his best friend sauntering in, waving excitedly like they hadn’t just seen each other that morning for coffee.
It doesn’t surprise him. Or - maybe it does, because his heart skips a beat and he swallows reflexively.
A declaration of “Shouta!” is accompanied by a hundred-watt smile with teeth that are whiter than pearls and an energy normally found only in chihuahuas and kids mid-sugar rush.
“Why are you here?”
Hizashi slides into the chair next to him without further adieu as if that question was an invitation and not a rebuke. Shouta considers telling him to leave, but Hizashi’s already babbling about why he’s at the police station, what he ate for lunch, what he’s thinking about for dinner, how one of his interns broke a pair of headphones and cried so hard they flooded the studio so his show’s canceled for the night so he’s thinking about asking Inko if he and Izuku can have a sleepover and of course Shouta’s invited too -
He’s not acting like anyone but Hizashi, but it’s weird. Just slightly off.
The babble is normal and goes in one ear and out the other, but the closeness - the way he’s leaning in and smiling with his arm wrapped around Shouta’s shoulder and lingering - that’s not.
That’s new.
The shirt that is open enough that Shouta can see his entire chest and the hair that trails down to his obnoxious belt buckle, the silver studs and jewelry and chains that he usually only wore with his hero suit, his hair loose and windswept, the smell of leather and smoke and -
Shouta, a little flustered and a lot confused, abruptly asks, “Are you stalking me?”
Hizashi throws his head back and laughs but doesn’t deny it, which says a lot more than words could.
“You’re shameless.”
His grin widens. He leans in and coos, “If I’m shameless, what does that make you~? It’s not like you’re mad about it, Shou-ta.”
Shouta shoves his face back with one hand and scoffs. It’s a quieter noise than he wanted it to be, but he’s distracted by that chest and how hot his face feels and that damn smell. “I have to go pick up Izuku. Stop being weird.”
“I’ll come with!” he chirps, jumping up and stretching his arms high. “I have something to do over that way anyway.”
“Of course you do.”
Everything from there is a blur of rambling and elbows nudging and leather until Izuku arrives, cheering at the sight of his two favorite heroes. Between Izuku’s excitement and pride over his recent test scores, Shouta barely notices that Hizashi excuses himself and walks towards the school rather than away from it.
He feels like he was hit by a truck. His heart’s hammering like it, at least.