Archive of Our Own ^beta

It was time for yet another gala sponsored by the HPSC, still trying to redeem themselves after some of their past bullshit had been exposed, and Izuku pretty much wanted to be anywhere other than the party he was at. He didn't like them at the best of times, and it wasn't one of the best times.

It had been a rough year. Bakugou had just made Number Eight, which was amazing for him, but it only served to drive home to Izuku that he'd never really stood a chance at being a hero. It wasn't UA's fault that he was born Quirkless, and that he couldn't cut it without a flashy superpower. It wasn't even Eraserhead’s fault that Izuku couldn't pass his test. He was the idiot who hadn't kept up with his physical training after getting into the hero course in the first place.

It was his own pride that had seen him expelled on the first day, no matter how much it hurt. 

Anyway. Bakugou was at Number Eight, emphasizing that Izuku never would have been a hero. His only serious relationship had fallen apart after Eiko realized that he would continue working as an analyst whether he needed to or not, because it wasn't about the money for him. It was about helping people. That had been six months ago, and Eiko had taken all their mutual friends in the breakup, leaving Izuku mostly alone, except for the overgrown peacock and the pincushion.

Which was fine! He was used to being alone!

He was just tired of being lonely, and without his only two remaining friends, he always was.

And being stuck at the damn gala for heroes and their agencies didn't seem like a great way to fix any of that. 

He could get drunk, find someone to go home with, but that was how he'd wound up with Eiko in the first place, and that relationship had turned out to be a shit show. So he avoided alcohol, tempting as it was. And he was glad that he had when he heard a familiar popping behind him, and an incredulously snarled, "Deku?!"

Izuku turned and tried out a smile. Bakugou looked good, though the expression on his face was more murderous than anything else. "Hey, Dynamite! Congrats on your ranking. It won't be long now until you hit your goal!"

That was a lot more words than the fuck off, you quirkist bully that he wanted to say, but it wouldn't lose him any clients. And while he was a very good analyst, and he had friends in very high places, the last thing he wanted to do was offend people who might genuinely need his help.

"The fuck are you doing here? This is a hero gala. Last I remember, Aizawa expelled your shitty ass." Bakugou stepped into Izuku's personal space, glaring the whole time.

The smell of burnt sugar was so strong it made Izuku gag, and he covered it with a cough. "I work as an analyst," he said. He kept his smile on with an effort. "Events like this are good for networking." Although he would literally rather offer his services to villains than help Bakugou. If he’d even ask.

Maybe if the first thing he'd said hadn't been that old insult, or if he hadn't been so condescending…

"People pay you for your creepy ass stalking?" Bakugou scoffed at him. "Why the fuck would they when you've always been willing to give it away for free?"

Izuku didn't bother pointing out that it wasn't stalking when you were literally in the same classes in middle school. Bakugou knew; he was just trying to get a rise out of him so that he'd have an excuse to beat him down. He wouldn't get what he wanted. Izuku was more than capable of ignoring him. He had plenty of practice.

"If you're not interested, you're welcome to leave me alone." Izuku plastered on his sweetest, fakest smile as he said that, and he watched in delight as Bakugou clenched his fists and stalked off without responding. It seemed that getting through UA and all the trials that had followed his class had taught Bakugou a few lessons.

Good. Izuku was glad; he really didn't want to deal with the fallout of getting into an actual fistfight with the Number Eight hero. Especially since it would only end in him getting his ass kicked, which would lead to certain other heroes in the top ten fluttering over him like the obnoxious mother hens they were.

He didn't pick the red feather off of his suit, but he was kind of tempted to both remove it and drop it onto a passing waiter's tray. Keigo was used to those tricks from him, though, so there was probably another, less visible feather lurking somewhere on him.

"Midoriya Izuku," another familiar voice said. This one wasn't quite as unwelcome as Bakugou's had been, but it was close. Was one dream crushing blow better or worse than one thousand smaller cuts?

"Eraserhead," Izuku said, turning to smile politely at the teacher who had finally shattered his dreams without a second thought.

"Aizawa Shouta in public, Midoriya-san." The man looked exhausted, but from what Izuku knew of the underground hero, he always did. He wore a suit and tie like every other guest, but unlike most of them, he didn't seem at all comfortable. One of his hands was picking at the cuffs of his sleeve, and the other was clenched around a flute of some clear liquid— Izuku could only speculate that it was either water or uncolored alcohol.

"Of course, Aizawa-san," he said with an agreeable smile. He always tried to be agreeable in public, after all. Even if his years of online school and working as a freelance analyst had mostly beaten the need to be perpetually friendly and kind out of him.

"Do you have a few moments to speak with me?"

Izuku considered the question. On its face, it seemed a simple enough one, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to work with the underground hero. He was very good at what he did, and his ethics were entirely beyond reproach, but the fact remained that Izuku would always hear the words, "You're expelled," echoing in his nightmares. On the other hand, he’d gotten into the business of analysis to help people, and if Eraserhead genuinely needed help…

Aizawa wasn't considered one of the best underground heroes in the business for no reason. He smiled thinly and took a step back without Izuku having to say a single word. "I understand. Be well, Midoriya-san."

But Izuku couldn't quite let things go just like that. "You have something you need me to look at?" Eraserhead didn't ask just anyone for help, and if someone got hurt because Izuku was being petty…

There were worse things than being expelled that could haunt Izuku's nightmares.

Aizawa's steps slowed and he turned back around. "I don't want to bully you into working with me. I'm aware that our history could make things difficult."

Izuku shook his head, waving the truth away. "It might, but we're both professionals, aren't we? We can work with difficult. If you need an analyst, I know that I'm one of the best. Please, Aizawa-san, tell me what you need."

Aizawa returned to his side, his fingers still white-knuckled around the stem of his glass. "I'm working a serial kidnapping case, have been for some weeks now, and I'm having trouble figuring out how the kidnapper is getting away with their victims. There haven't been any bodies dropped, not yet, but I'm not naive enough to think that means there won't be any found. Five kids are missing, and we're nowhere near catching the fucker."

Izuku considered the matter. "You're talking about the Nightlight kidnapper."

Aizawa snorted. "That's what the press are calling them, yes. Chosen because—"

"Each of the taken children have a custom nightlight ordered from the same company," Izuku finished. He'd followed the news on the case, both because it was fascinating and because he wanted to know when they caught the kidnapper. Seemed like he'd get a chance to help with the catching, though in this case he did wish it wasn't necessary.

"Yes." Aizawa sighed. "It's… been rough. And we have some information, but nothing seems to add up correctly."

"I'd say that I'm happy to take a look, but happy isn't really the right word." Izuku smiled, a thin, grim thing. "I assume the information is too sensitive for email?"

"I'd prefer not to." Aizawa downed whatever was in his glass in one go. "The kidnapper has seemed incredibly aware of both heroic and police movements, and we're not sure how they're managing that yet."

So they might be dealing with a cop, or a hero gone bad. Or a spy helping the kidnapper? None of the options were ideal.

"Right." Izuku very much wanted a drink of his own, but he was a lightweight, and he wasn't planning on staying at the gala any longer. "Then I guess you should take me to your office so we can get started, then, before another kid gets taken."

"Just like that?" Aizawa seemed a bit bemused, but he followed Izuku when he started making his way towards the entrance.

"Unless you'd like to waste more time here." Izuku shot the man a look. "And your agency isn't going to quibble over my fees or you never would have approached me."

He was rewarded with a grin, wide and almost demonic, one that bared all of the man's teeth. Izuku ignored the way he wanted to shiver at the sight of it. The man who’d broken his heart when he was a teenager had no right being so attractive. "Fair enough," Aizawa said. "Follow me, Midoriya-san, and I'll escort you to my agency."

Well, he had wanted to network, and while working with Eraserhead on the Nightlight case wasn't exactly what he'd intended, helping to solve the case was one way to make sure his name continued to make waves in the analyst world.

***

Eraserhead's 'agency,' like that of most underground heroes, turned out to be a small office two doors down from a police station. Izuku recognized the particular station at the one that Tsukauchi Naomasa worked at, and he wondered if that was by design or a coincidence.

He wouldn't ask. He didn't know Aizawa well enough to do so, and somehow he doubted that he ever would. The Nightlight case would just be a quick consultation, and then he'd be done working with the man. 

He wasn't going to make friends with him.

He certainly wasn't going to do anything else, no matter how appealing that toothy grin had been.

Aizawa's office might be small, but it was comfortable. The small room was dominated by a large desk overflowing with paperwork and an ancient computer, and there was an oversized couch pressed up against one wall. An equally oversized armchair lurked in a corner, and the office chair behind the desk seemed like the most expensive piece of furniture in the room, meaning it was likely ergonomical and sinfully comfortable.

Aizawa tapped a few buttons on the computer, clicked on a file, then he flopped onto the couch with little regard for his guest. "Desk's all yours. I've opened everything we have on Nightlight. Please, Midoriya-san, do your best." Though his voice was borderline apathetic, Izuku could hear a hint of genuine frustration mixed in with the exhaustion and disinterest.

He couldn't imagine how frustrating it was to stare at the same information day after day without being able to work out the problem or pattern. His brain wasn't like that. If there was a pattern, he should be able to find it, and without much trouble.

He settled in the chair at the desk— every bit as comfortable as he'd suspected— and got to work.

He didn't know how long he'd been lost in the files when his phone started buzzing at him angrily. Izuku didn't answer it, just silenced it with one hand and shoved it back into his pocket. And then it started to buzz again, this time in the pattern indicating he was getting a text.

Irritated, because there was a pattern to what Nightlight was doing, and there was something there to how they were doing it, he glanced at his phone.

Birdbrain
You don't get to skip out on these things without saying where you're going, bush baby! Where'd you go?

Zuzu Bean
Got a case. Working. Fuck off.

Birdbrain
Got my feather?

Zuzu Bean
Yes dad.

Birdbrain
Have fun! Be home before…
Well. It's already almost midnight, so.
Whatever. Don't die. You're Eraserhead's problem now, I guess.

Izuku snorted and put his phone away. "Idiot," he muttered, trying not to be so fond of the feathered hero.

Aizawa let out a small inquiring noise.

"Hawks wanted to know where I went." Not that he needed to tell Aizawa anything. He didn't owe the man any answers. But…

Something in him, the part that still heard you're expelled every time he closed his eyes, wanted to know if he impressed Aizawa. If being friends with the number one hero was enough to make the man feel any regret at all for the way he'd expelled him, even if Izuku could acknowledge that it had been the right thing to do.

"Good friend of yours?" Aizawa didn't even open his eyes.

Izuku tried to shove aside the bitter disappointment that welled up in his stomach. "Yeah," he muttered.

"Explains the feathers." 

When Aizawa said nothing else, Izuku forced his attention back to the Nightlight files. It was hard to ignore the stinging of his eyes, but he managed it. Why would he have expected Aizawa to be impressed by him? He was just an analyst. A good one, but it wasn't like he was the number eight hero like Bakugou. Or any of his other former… students…

There it was. The connection. It was such a small thing, that at least one of each set of parents had all been born in the same neighborhood. It made sense, given that none of the families were particularly well off and most of them had stayed in the same area. Of course the kids had some overlap in where they went to school, in the routes they took and the trains they rode.

But the parents had that too, and it didn't look like anyone had researched that. "Has anyone considered that the parents are the actual targets and not the children? Is anyone looking into the history of the parents?"

Aizawa's eyes flew open and he sat up. "What?" He stared at Izuku, his lips slightly parted. There was a look in his eyes that Izuku couldn't quite place.

He didn't have time to care about it, honestly. His fingers were already flying, testing the speed of Aizawa's old computer as he followed his theory. They were all from the same neighborhood that they still lived in, and the kids all followed the same routes that their parents had, roughly. Did those paths intersect? No, not for the children. They came close but not quite.

But for the parents, there had been a point when they had, when their trains had all met up at the same station at the same time. They'd had about ten minutes there in middle school, at least, that was what it looked like in the first three locally raised parents that he looked up. Maybe the window was shorter, who knew? But the bigger question was, had anything significant happened at or around that station during those ten minutes, or around those ten minutes, when each of the local parents had been in middle school?

There was only one year that fit, 20XX. Over thirty years ago. And a quick search of the station in that year yielded what Izuku had almost expected: a villain attack that left a child dead. An elementary schooler. One who middle school children probably wouldn't have been able to protect, but the minds of villains were twisted and terrifying.

Izuku exhaled. "Got it."

Aizawa was off the couch and standing behind him to peer over his shoulder almost before Izuku realized he'd moved. "You found the connection?"

"Pretty sure, yeah." He leaned back in the chair and rubbed his eyes. "You'll want to look at the surviving family of the child who died in the Correra Station attack in 20XX. It looks like one parent of each of the kidnapped children was present at the attack, and in middle school. The kid who died was in elementary. Your kidnapper may think that the older children should have protected the younger."

Should they have? Was there more to it than just scared children who had fled when they might have been able to help a younger child? Did it have anything to do with the fact that the little boy who'd died had been Quirkless? Izuku didn't know, and it wasn't his job to find out.

And even if there was something there, Izuku couldn't start sympathizing with villains. That was a dangerous road for him to walk.

He pushed back from Aizawa's computer, knocking into the man. "Do you need me for anything else?"

Aizawa was looking at him like he was a marvel, and only moments ago, it would have been wonderful. Now, it left Izuku cold. "That's amazing," Aizawa said.

Izuku just shook his head. "I'm tired, Aizawa-san. It's been a long day. If you don't need me to look up anything else—"

"I can take it from here, Midoriya," Aizawa said. He stepped back. "Would you like to be there when we make the arrest?"

Izuku just shook his head. He'd done that once. It had done nothing to ease the hollowness inside. "Feel free to call on me again if you need assistance with anything else," he said. 

He left his card on Aizawa's desk and practically fled the office before his soured mood could get worse. Technically, since he'd finished the consult and the party was still going, he could head back and network more, but he would literally rather gargle cyanide.

He headed for the train station instead.

Zuzu Bean
Done consulting. Case solved. Going to go die.

Birdbrain
Literally do not.

Zuzu Bean
You're not my real dad.

He didn't get a response, and he considered making a run for it, but he knew he'd never make it. Sure enough, Keigo landed next to him with a clatter of feathers.

"Can't a guy make suicide jokes without you panicking?" Izuku complained.

Keigo wrapped an arm and wing around him. "When the most recent memory of me finding you on a rooftop fades, sure, I'll allow it. But since we only reset the counter a week ago, you'll forgive me if I'm a little wary of jokes right now." His wing was warm and heavy.

Izuku wanted to nestle closer, then he figured, fuck it. If Keigo was going to babysit him and pop in on him all the time because he was paranoid, then he could deal with the consequences and be treated like a living stuffed animal. He snuggled up against the number one hero and sighed happily. "You're warm," he said, ignoring everything he'd said.

"You know what? Not the weirdest compliment I got tonight." Keigo's wing twitched and it forced Izuku closer to him. "That honor goes to my boyfriend's little brother, who complimented me on my ability to piss off their father without actually trying."

Izuku glanced up at him. "You do like pissing off Endeavor these days."

"Yes, when I'm trying to!" Keigo let out an irritated chirp. "I was actually trying to get along for once! Touya wanted to, because Fuyumi wanted to, and then I said— No, you know what, I'm not rehashing this. It was a nightmare. I stress gripped, Izuku. I broke a door handle! You know what that does to me."

"Poor birdie," Izuku said, only a little bit mocking. "Is Touya pissed at you?"

"He thinks it's funny, mostly." Keigo sighed, and his wing got heavier around Izuku's shoulders. "Ever since I found out how Endeavor was with his family, I just—"

"Can't stand the flaming pile of garbage?" Izuku suggested when Keigo fell quiet.

"Yeah." He let out a mournful chirp. "And it's their choice to forgive him, not mine, and I should let them do it if they want, but…" He trailed off into a sad silence.

Izuku understood. It was hard to watch a loved one keep toxic people around. He knew Mom had struggled watching him with Eiko for so long. And he had trouble around some of the boyfriends that she'd introduced him to. Especially that one asshole who'd always made sure to point out when he thought she was eating too much. He'd been awful.

He bumped deliberately into Keigo as they walked. "Wanna go get fried chicken?" It always cheered the hero up. Hopefully that night wouldn't be an exception.

Only one of them could be morose at a time, and it was Izuku's turn.

Sure enough, Keigo let out an excited chirp and his wings fluffed up. "Oh hell yes!"

Once he had the hero tucked into the booth of the closest fried chicken restaurant, a bucket of fried, greasy goodness between them, Izuku fired off a text to Touya.

Zuzu Bean
Did someone lose a giant mopey bird of prey?

Frank's Monster
I thought he had that stupid gala thing tonight? The one celebrating whatever the fuckr?

Zuzu Bean
Yeah, then I made a death joke, then he got sad and I was already sad. Anyway, we're drowning our sorrows in fried greasy goodness if you wanna come.

Frank's Monster
Why were you sad? Do I need to kill someone? Also, why was he sad? The fuck?

Zuzu Bean
Did some consulting for Eraserhead. He makes me feel things. Bitter, cause he expelled me, sad, cause he was right to do it, angry for the same reason, regretful, and also, newly, horny.
Mr. Birdbrain was sad because he ticked off Endeavor and thought you were upset?

Frank's Monster
Oh FFS. One. Never tell me that last thing again. Zuzu Bean is too sweet and pure for that. Two. I can't kill Eraserhead, he's actually a good hero. Also, I don't want to go back to Tartarus. Three. Keigo's dumb. I'm on my way.

Izuku raised an eyebrow and waited, not sending anything in response. It would hit Touya in just a moment, he was sure…

Frank's Monster
As soon as you tell me where I'm going.

Izuku snorted. "Your boyfriend is on the way."

Zuzu Bean
Location sent.

Keigo let out a squawk, his cheeks bulging with fried chicken like a hamster trying to eat too much all at once.

Izuku's snort turned into full blown laughter. He might have lost most of his friends along with Eiko, but he’d kept the two most important ones, and he needed to remember that more often. Quality was way better than quantity.

***

Less than a week later, it was all over the news that the Nightlight kidnapper had been caught, the children were all safe, and that the nightlights in question had all been weird coincidences. Izuku had been right, the kidnapper— who had a teleportation quirk— had been targeting the parents the kidnapper believed had left her older brother to die. She'd never even met her older brother, but she'd been raised on her parents' stories of how unfair his death had been.

She didn't even know for sure if they would have been able to save him, she just knew they didn't.

As Izuku had suspected, the knowledge didn't do anything to make him any less cold inside, and he found himself wishing that Eraserhead wouldn't have sent it to him. He could have learned what everyone on the news did. He didn't need the extra information.

He definitely wouldn't have spent hours looking into it on his own while telling himself he wasn't going to do any such thing. Eraserhead wasn't sparing him hours of deluding himself into extra research.

"Keep telling yourself that," he muttered as he finished typing out an email to Kamui Woods. The hero wanted some help developing a new move, and Izuku had taken the time to send him some ideas he'd already had prepared.

That kind of thing was easy money, and it helped build his reputation. Not that it needed too much work anymore, but still. Everything helped.

There were a handful of other projects he could work on— a case for an underground hero named Mindjack, something for Present Mic, and a villain analysis that Death Arms had sent his way, but Izuku was tired. The week had been a long one, and wasn't he supposed to be learning to stop work a little earlier than before he fell asleep at his keyboard? Besides, nothing was particularly urgent.

He shoved back from his computer when it alerted him to a new email. From Eraserhead.

Izuku stared at the subject line through narrowed eyes.

Subject: Dinner?

Midoriya,

I know that I, of all people, probably have no right to ask you this, but I'd like to take you to dinner. I want to thank you for your help with the Nightlight case, and before you say that isn't necessary, I'd also like the chance to get to know you. There were a few moments that night that you were in my office that I felt something of a connection, and I'd like the chance to explore that.

Of course, you're under no obligation to accept my invitation. If you aren't interested, I understand and won't hold it against you. I would still like the opportunity to work with you in the future.

-Aizawa Shouta

That read like… 

Izuku picked up his phone before he really knew what he was doing and dialed. Seconds later, a rough voice said, "I'm still not roasting marshmallows for you, green bean."

"I think Eraserhead just asked me out on a date." The words came out oddly calm, considering that Izuku was pretty sure he was a few breaths away from hyperventilating.

Touya was silent on the other end of the line. Then, he cackled. "Assert dominance. Tell him he can't ask you out if you ask him out first!"

Izuku groaned and let his forehead bang lightly into his desk. "Why did I call you for advice?"

"Because I won't let you treat this like the crisis it obviously isn't?" Touya was still chuckling. "Didn't you say in your chicken hangover that you thought he was hot? Let the man take you out! He's gotta be a better option than Eiko!"

"He expelled me on my first day of high school." That was a good reason not to date someone, right? Izuku wasn't insane, right?

"You'd have burnt out too fast as a hero," Touya pointed out. "Also, we never would have been friends because I might have tried to kill you if you'd stayed in that class. Look at the bigger picture here, Zuzu Bean."

Izuku laughed, amused despite himself. He started typing a response to Aizawa, even as he said to Touya, "Yes, because that's the bigger picture. Our possible friendship."

"Reliable sources tell me that friendship is magic."

Izuku considered that as he pressed send. "I don't think either Toga or My Little Pony counts as a reliable source."

Re: Dinner?

Aizawa,

I'll admit that I'm wary about dinner, but a friend says I should give it a chance. You're the one with the busy schedule, what days work for you?

-Midoriya

The answer came mere seconds later. At least he wasn't playing coy like some people did.

Re: Re: Dinner?

Midoriya,

Tomorrow at seven? We can meet at my office and take the train to the restaurant I'm thinking of.

-Aizawa Shouta

Izuku let out a huff of air. "I have a dinner date tomorrow night with the man who expelled me from high school."

Touya, who had been in the middle of a passionate defense of the virtues of the recent remake of the pre-Quirk animated show about magic ponies, stopped talking and burst into loud laughter once more. Izuku chose to give the only possible mature response and hung up the phone.

Re: Re: Re: Dinner?

Aizawa,

I'll see you then.

-Midoriya

***

When they arrived at the restaurant, Izuku was glad that he hadn't gone with his first thought and dressed in one of his awful t-shirts. Based on what he knew of Aizawa, it might have been appropriate, but maybe not for a first date. So he'd forced himself into a nice blue button up and a pair of black slacks, and he'd made himself wear the fancy black shoes Keigo bought for him that he didn't like to think about the price of.

The restaurant was a nice one, small and quiet and right on the coast. It had a beautiful view of the beach, and it looked like the sort of place that should have needed a half a year's worth of waiting to get a table. Izuku was immediately certain that he had no business being there, in spite of the fact that there was no wait for a table and the staff seemed friendly enough.

"It seems fancier than it is," Aizawa said. Maybe he had a mind reading quirk? "But they're actually very down to earth. And the food is amazing. Though I should have asked if you like sushi."

Izuku didn't indulge in it often— good sushi was expensive, even if it was delicious, and he still wasn't used to having enough money to afford it. He smiled a little. "I do," he said as he settled into his chair. "I haven't had it for a while, though."

"Well, tonight is my treat since I invited you out, so please, order what you'd like." Aizawa grinned at him, showing his teeth again.

It still sent shivers down Izuku's spine, the good ones. "You don't need to treat me," he said, even if a small part of him thrilled at the very idea. Eiko had never treated him to anything, in spite of the way he’d flashed his money around at every opportunity. "I don't need you to make up for expelling me, you know."

Aizawa leaned back in his chair and toyed with his water glass as he studied Izuku. There was something about being under that gaze that probably should have been frightening, but instead it was having the same effect that toothy grin had on him. "I want to treat you," he said after a long stretch of silence. "And it has nothing to do with expelling you, although I think perhaps I owe you an apology for that."

Izuku let out a startled huff and had to look away. "You don't." He busied himself with looking over the menu so that he wouldn't have to explain himself, and he was grateful that Aizawa seemed content to let him have a few minutes of distraction.

Of course, once their order had been placed, there weren't any distractions left. "You're clever," Aizawa said, breaking the silence. "A brilliant strategist and analyst. I've heard from multiple agencies that they'd love to work with you on their staff full time. Clearly, I was wrong when I told you that you had no potential. There's no logic in me denying that."

Had any of the people who'd told him he couldn't be a hero ever told him they were sorry? Why would Aizawa be the one to—

Izuku only realized he was crying when his tears dripped down onto the tablecloth. He wanted to scrub them away, but he didn't want to ruin one of his few nice shirts. This was one of the many, many reasons he hated dressing up.

A hand came into view with a handkerchief, and Izuku seized it gratefully and scrubbed at his eyes until he stopped crying. "You're not the first person to tell me I couldn't be a hero," he said, his voice hoarse. He kept hold of the handkerchief and fidgeted with it under the table. He didn't look at Aizawa. "You're the first one to apologize for saying it, though. Thank you."

"You shouldn't thank me for doing the right thing." Aizawa sighed. "The world could use more clever heroes, Midoriya. You would have been an amazing one, I think."

Izuku shook his head. "Touya makes a good point when I get too upset about not making it as a hero," he said. He tried on a smile, and it didn't hurt, so he looked up at Aizawa. "I might be smart, and support items can do a lot, but I don't have the right personality for a hero. I'm too sensitive, and…"

Was that really a good conversation for a first date? On the other hand, could a relationship with him go anywhere if he didn't tell Aizawa about the way his mood fluctuated at the worst times?

Aizawa was watching him without judgment, his eyes steady. "And?"

Izuku forced a laugh. "It's kinda heavy for a first date." He wanted to give the other man an out, just in case. He'd mentioned chemistry, and Izuku had felt it too, but this conversation could wreck anything they might build before it started.

Aizawa snorted. "I'm the one who opened with an apology for breaking your teenage heart. I think I set the tone here." Then his lip quirked up slyly, his eyes heated, and Izuku's heart skipped. "Besides. I can always change the mood later if we're so inclined, trust me."

Izuku's mouth was suddenly very dry, and he had to take a long drink of his water. "I do," he said, startled to find that it was the truth. "Both about the mood and not being offended by… my whole… me." He flushed and looked down at the white tablecloth again.

Calloused fingers touched his chin and tilted his head up, and Izuku wanted very much to hide, but he also didn't want to do anything that might make Aizawa remove his hand. His heart thudded in his chest, so loud he thought maybe they could hear it throughout the restaurant, but nobody was reacting, so clearly that wasn't the case. And Aizawa was still smiling at him, that awful, wicked little smirk that was making Izuku's heart skip again.

"I'm fascinated by your whole you," he said, and he had the nerve to not even sound embarrassed. "I want to know anything you want or need to tell me."

Izuku swallowed hard, wanting more water. He didn't have any more, though, and the waitress wasn't anywhere nearby. So he swallowed again. "Right," he said, his voice still a little hoarse. "So. Why I'd be a bad hero."

Aizawa hummed. He shifted, leaning on one elbow, and though he dropped his hand from Izuku's face, he left his hand in the middle of the table so that Izuku could… oh, so that he could reach out and…

Izuku stopped fiddling with the handkerchief under the table and switched to fiddling with Aizawa's fingers. They were strong and calloused, and he didn't object at all to the way Izuku manipulated them as he spoke.

"I met Hawks after I finished my first job consulting on a villain's case. I helped solve the crime, and the hero I was working with offered to let me go with her for the arrest. And while it happened, I was amazed. I thought that at least if I couldn't be a hero, I could be useful, and I could do some good, right? But then the high faded, and I was alone. And… things got a little blurry."

Their food arrived then, and Izuku was grateful for the pause he could take as the platters of sushi were spread out before them. He really didn't want to cry again, but he thought he might.

Once the waitress was gone again, leaving a full glass of water for Izuku, he made himself continue.

"I lost time. We still don't know how many days I lost to the depressive episode. By the worst point, I was just… I was so sure that anyone could have figured out what I did, that I was wasting resources just by living, and I found myself up on top of my apartment building."

Aizawa's breath caught and his fingers tightened around Izuku's. "Midoriya," he started. Then he stopped and breathed out. "I'm sorry. Please continue."

"I mean, you know where it's going. Hawks found me, talked me down. Got me help, because a lot of hospitals don't work with Quirkless patients. Got me a long term therapist, which is great because I still struggle with suicidal thoughts and bouts of severe depression sometimes. And my anxiety is off the charts pretty much all the time. So. Basically I'm a trainwreck in human form, and that's both why I'd be a bad hero and a terrible person to date."

Aizawa was silent for a long time as he studied Izuku. He didn't pull his hand away, which was probably a good sign, but the fact that he wasn't saying anything wasn't the most promising. Izuku wanted to duck away, to hide, but he didn't. He'd gotten it all out, and now the only thing to do was wait for Aizawa's response.

"I still think you would have been an amazing hero," Aizawa said finally. His thumb smoothed over the back of Izuku's hand. "You think you'd be the only one with mental health issues? I can think of several, myself included. I struggle on occasion with depressive episodes, and due to an incident in my high school years, I have PTSD that I still see a therapist for. That said, you're also an amazing analyst, and there are too few of those as well."

What the hell was he supposed to say to that? That wasn't how Aizawa was supposed to react! He was supposed to decide he'd made the right decision all those years ago, finish their dinner on a cordial note, and then lose Izuku's number. That's how most first dates went when he started oversharing! He wasn't supposed to use Touya's trick of asserting dominance by oversharing back!

He took a sip of water, then he cleared his throat. "Since it seems like we're getting all the heavy stuff out of the way, do you want to talk about the incident in high school?" 

Was that a weird thing to offer? Why had he thought he could do this? Why had he let Touya tell him this was a good idea? He was going to kill him, and Keigo would have no choice but to allow it.

Aizawa smiled at him. It was small, but it looked real enough. "You're sweet," he said. "But no. Oboro isn't a good topic for a first date."

"And suicide attempts were?" Izuku raised an eyebrow, but he did finally let go of Aizawa's hand and pick up his chopsticks. 

"Admittedly, probably not." Aizawa picked up his own, that small, almost sweet smile still tugging at his lips. "So, something more standard over our dinner, perhaps. How does one train to be an analyst?"

Izuku brightened. If there was one thing he could talk about endlessly, without fail, it was the less gruesome aspects of his work. Helping to put away villains was a vital part of being an analyst, but it would never be his favorite. That would always be quirk analysis for heroes. And training his natural skill had been exhausting, but ultimately incredibly rewarding. At least, when he wasn't in the midst of a depressive episode and thinking he was more useless than not.

The rest of dinner flew by. Izuku found that Shouta, as he insisted on being called as the night grew later, was incredibly easy to talk to, and good at holding up his end of the conversation. He asked insightful questions, and had a deadpan sense of humor that had Izuku cackling with unexpected laughter more than once as the night wore on. Once the meal was over, he found that he didn't want the evening to end, and he gladly accepted the invitation for a walk on the beach in the moonlight.

It was quiet, the only sounds coming from the city, which somehow seemed muted and distant, and the soft constant rushing of the waves breaking on the shore. Izuku didn't feel the need to fill the silence with idle chatter, and apparently neither did Shouta. It was enough to just… be. To walk, their hands brushing against each other's, the sand crunching beneath their feet.

It was comfortable, in a way that Izuku had never known a date could be. He didn't want it to end, and yet, as Shouta started to steer them back toward the lights of civilization, he knew that it was going to.

He caught his hand, pulling Shouta to a stop. "I really enjoyed tonight," he said, the words hard to force out. It was always hard to admit to things like that, not because they weren't true, but because he never knew how the recipient of the sentiment would react.

Shouta tugged him in close, and Izuku shivered. It had gotten chilly, and he hadn't even noticed, but Shouta was warm. "I did too." He tilted Izuku's head up, his eyes glinting just a bit in the moonlight. "Can I kiss you, Izuku?"

Izuku swallowed. "Yes." 

It was a very nice kiss, and so were the ones that followed, leaving Izuku flushed and breathless in Shouta's arms. The hero was strong enough to support him effortlessly, which was… really quite something, actually, and Izuku was reasonably sure that he was going to go home with an entirely new set of fantasies to distract him. Unless…

"I really don't want this night to end," he admitted. Touya would never let him live it down if he knew that Izuku was even considering this on the first date.

He'd take all the credit for convincing Izuku to say yes to the date. He was going to be insufferable.

Shouta's smile, meanwhile, had widened. "Your place or mine?" he asked.

"Mine," Izuku decided. "I'm just off the same subway line this restaurant is on. I'd imagine you're closer to UA?"

Shouta tipped his head in acknowledgement, then he leaned down and took Izuku's lips in another kiss that left him utterly breathless. "Lead on, then."

"Gimme a sec." He needed to get his legs under him so that they didn't feel like jelly. Shouta was… a very good kisser. He couldn't wait to see just where else those talents extended.

***

Of course, he would come to regret so much when, after a long night wherein neither he nor Shouta got much sleep at all but spent the majority of their time in bed, they were both rudely awoken at one in the afternoon by an obnoxious overgrown chicken and his walking advertisement for office supplies. Touya couldn't stop laughing no matter how much Izuku shouted at him, and Keigo asked Shouta if that meant that he'd be coming with Touya to pick them up the next time they got fried chicken after midnight.

It was when Shouta agreed that he would that Izuku realized that maybe he was in trouble. But it was okay, because Shouta seemed to be just the right kind of trouble for him.