Chapter Text
“Wanna join us?”
“Hells yeah!” Hizashi grinned at his friend, Kayama, shooting her finger guns as they walked together. “I’ll get cleaned up real quick and meet you there!”
She smirked, licking her lips excitedly. “Wonderful~ They’ll be so excited you decided to join us!”
“Will you two shut up?” The villain Hizashi was dragging along with them interjected.
He silently held the villain up, Kayama smirking at the man in front of her and pulled back her sleeve, her quirk quickly putting him back to sleep.
He sighed, hefting the man up and started their walk again. “How annoying.”
She made a hum of agreement. “I know. Terrible.”
“Who interrupts a gossip session?” Hizashi exasperatedly said, his free hand waving with passion.
Kayama shook her head disapprovingly. “Awful people.”
“Villains,” He agreed, grinning when she nodded seriously.
“Villains,” She agreed as they approached the officers waiting for them.
Though this was his normal, Hizashi was confident he’d never get over the feeling of keeping another criminal off the streets, making the general public more safe than it had been before.
It was a passion of his, something he loved dedicating himself towards, just like his job as a high school teacher and his radio host persona.
Most people he met were, to put it simply, overwhelmed with his presence.
The things he had going on, working around his schedule alone was a nightmare and a half for any new, potential friends he could’ve made.
Of course, thankfully, Nemuri had stuck by his side like glue, always inviting him out to things but never making him feel left out for not being able to take the time to get out the same way she often did.
It was true, he had other friends and he’s sure they would love to meet up with him, but whenever Hizashi was blessed with the idea of downtime, he really didn’t enjoy using it to go out and about, often times ending up running errands as he met up with acquaintances he forgot he didn’t like hanging out with for more than ten minutes until those minutes had passed by.
Really, long story short, it was considered a miracle Hizashi was joining Nemuri tonight.
“Thanks, Sansa~” Nemuri purred, two fingers trailing up his jacket.
Hizashi grinned, handing off the villain to Sansa’s rookie partner, the man roughly handling the villain into the car, wincing as he slammed the door shut a bit too harshly.
Sansa sighed. “You two alright for the night?”
Hizashi grinned. “You know it!”
“I don’t know…~”
Sansa’s whiskers twitched as Nemuri leaned closer and Hizashi knew, from experience with being so close to the woman, that she had a certain smell to her. Something more pleasant on the nose than the harsh chemicals of perfume, but, even during sparring practices, Hizashi had never caught her smelling like sweat or general, regular BO.
He was so close to asking her if it was because of her quirk or something else.
Hizashi needed to know.
After a long shift, the last thing Hizashi wanted to do was peel off the layers and layers of clothes he wore only to realize he smelled like garbage and needed a shower before he did anything else.
Really, it was taxing to take two or three showers a day, and Hizashi wanted a simpler option.
Hopefully Nemuri wouldn’t judge when he remembered to ask the woman next time the topic came up.
“Pookie…~”
Hizashi grinned, leaning close to Nemuri, amusement running through him as she batted her lashes at him and camera lights flashed around them.
Well, there’s their gossip column picture for the next month or so.
“You ready?” She asked quietly, head tilting just so.
Hizashi nodded, tossing his arm around his best friend, grinning at the small crowd that had gathered as they walked down the street, waving to fans, smiling at them, but refusing to stop for anything other than food, booze, and/or a bathhouse.
“You sure you’re alright with coming?” Nemuri asked as they stepped down a side-street and he pulled his arm off of her shoulders, not wanting to crowd her more than he had been. “No one blames you if you need to DJ tonight or something…”
Hizashi nodded, determination rising in him. “Yeah, I need to do this. Besides, it’ll be good for me. Ya know, to get out.”
Nemuri smiled. “Yeah! It’ll be so good!”
Hizashi mirrored her excitement, grinning at her as she rambled on about the dozens of new people he had never met but was guaranteed to love and, despite his previous determination to go to this thing, he could feel his social battery draining with every new name Nemuri explained to him.
Oh lord.
He hoped this didn’t turn into a needlessly long night.
He’s not sure he’d be willing to leave his house for the next two months if that ended up happening again. He only has so many brain cells to lose before he starts screaming in hopes of deafening himself.
Well, deafening himself even more than he already was.
Maybe his screams could ruin the frequency of his hearing aids. Who knows? That’s not something he’s ever tried, but with the way Nemuri was still listing off names he didn’t know, it was looking to be a viable experiment to partake in, ya know, in the very near future.
“Hizashi,” Nemuri scolded, thwapping his arm. “I can sense your dramatic thoughts. Stop it.”
“Hmph,” Hizashi pouted, but relaxed at her scolding. Despite what he was interested in hearing, he knew she was right and he needed to stop now before he ended up using a cheap excuse to get out of tonight.
“And anyways, you’re gonna love it,” She promised him, her steps becoming closer to excited skips than steps as she spoke. “It’ll be great!”
Hizashi couldn’t help himself, grinning back at her. “It’ll be wonderful.”
“Then go home,” She smirked at him, pushing on his arm lightly. Something playful in the action warming his heart. “And I’ll send you the address, alright?”
“Alright,” He agreed.
Quickly, Hizashi made his way home.
It was an effort to avoid talking himself out of joining up with the group like he had promised, especially when, not five minutes after he got home, his phone kept going off and he realized he had been invited to the group chat for everyone who would be there.
That had inspired him to toss his phone on the couch and open the fridge, grabbing some fruit to munch on before taking a hot shower, washing the stress of the day away.
He knew it shouldn’t have taken him so long to pick out his clothes, spending the majority of ten minutes standing in his closet with a towel around his waist as he deliberated the pros and cons of wearing a green or black shirt tonight.
Of course, that’s when Nemuri called him. His phone bussed itself off his couch as he walked out of his room, already in a precarious position before it vibrated off the plush cushion and onto the rug below.
With a sigh, Hizashi grabbed it and answered. “Yeah?”
“Wear the shirt I got you!” Nemuri yelled. There was loud music thundering in the background, the sound flooding through the phone muffled by shouts of other people near her.
Hizashi groaned. “Nem, are you in a club? ”
“Yeah!”
Oh, he was so underprepared for this.
He thought he was going to a bar, maybe participating in some odd drinking games, a little bit of networking. That was it. That’s all he prepared for.
But this…
“Just pregame a little, pookie!” Nemuri spoke up, as if she was reading his thoughts. “It’ll be fine! And wear the shirt!”
“Nem…”
“Wear it!”
And she hung up, leaving him holding a phone against his cheek, protests on his tongue, and hair rising on his arms from the slight chill in his apartment.
He sighed, something so fond and exasperated dancing through his tone he couldn’t help but shake his head and let a small smile grace his lips as he turned around and walked back into his closet, throwing on the mesh top Nemuri had given him one Christmas.
He threw on some slacks, and before he could decide he was all ready to go, Nemuri messaged him, sending him a link to a picture of a step-by-step process on how to apply eyeliner in an elegant wing.
He sighed, eyes rolling hard before he headed to the bathroom and followed her instructions, begrudgingly admitting that he did look well put together in the outfit, the eyeliner pulling it together.
Running a hand through his hair, Hizashi decided to leave it down, wanting to let his scalp breath before he gelled it up tomorrow for patrols.
Another text from Nemuri came through, this time it being the address of the club she wanted him to meet up at.
Luckily, it was close.
It wasn’t a long walk, just long enough that he had time to mentally scold himself for leaving the house before he had a change to get some alcohol in him, count the crack on the sidewalk underneath where he estimated he would step, and generally find a way to be disappointed with his life decisions in three different ways.
Of course, that’s when he was forced to wait in a slowly moving line for two minutes before Nemuri, dipped in body shine, came out, flirted with the bouncers, and pointed to Hizashi, to which the men begrudgingly let him cut the line and follow his slightly tipsy friend through the dark doors.
It was dark, as expected, and the lights were somehow louder than the music that Hizashi couldn’t help but squint, solely focused on following Nemuri to the private section he’s positive some rich man handed to her the second she winked in his general direction.
“Come on!” He hardly caught her words as she dipped between two people, leaving Hizashi to frantically attempt to follow after her.
“Excuse me,” Hizashi called out, pushing through the crowd, following after her. “‘Scuse me. Beep beep. Coming through.”
He pushed and pushed until he nearly ran into Nemuri’s back, arms up and brows raised to avoid knocking into her and bothering the five different men that were watching her from a distance.
“Is that Mic?” Someone called out and Hizashi looked up to see Thirteen grinning at him. “Oh my goodness. Welcome!”
“Oi? You said Mic showed up?” Snipe questioned from beside her.
Hizashi was pulled closer to the group by Nemuri and avoided sighing as he got closer, looking around to only see a few others he recognized, and a couple marketers and promoters there as well.
Ah, so it was a social gathering for everyone Nemuri had ever met. Right. That explained the new faces.
“I showed.” Hizashi let himself say, grinning lightly at Snipe and Thirteen, easily gravitating towards his co-workers rather than the others filtering in and out of the private area.
And, though it was private, by no means was it any quieter over here. The music was still loud, the lights seemed to have gotten brighter and Hizashi was by far the most painfully sober person in the entire building.
“I’m gonna go get a drink,” Hizashi promised, repeating himself louder when all he got in response was confused looks from the two.
Quickly, Hizashi beelined towards the bar nearby, unwilling to be gentle with anyone as he moved through the crowd.
He needed something to take the edge off. Now.
“Let me buy you something,” A man whispered in his ear, his voice gravely in the way that he liked, a chill zipping up his spine when the man’s fingers touched his lower back.
Hizashi stood still, gritting his teeth before slowly nodding at the man’s offer, knowing for a fact he’d feel better at the end of the night if he got to drink himself drunk without spending a dime.
The man smiled, licking his lips wetly. Hizashi refused to shudder. “Wonderful. Follow me.”
Hizashi couldn’t help but role his eyes at the declaration, as if Hizashi had been bee-lined towards anything else other than the fucking bar, but he kept his mouth shut, wanting the free drinks more than he wanted to keep his dignity for this stranger.
The walk to the bar was quick. The service was quicker.
“I got this,” The man promised, whispering in his ear as he slid his card across the bar counter.
Hizashi pointedly did not point out the fact that he had promised to buy the drinks previously and, instead, turned and smiled at the man, patting his chest.
“Thank you,” He said with the most sincerity he could put in his voice, allowing his eyes to widen as he tilted his head up, making the man feel more taller than he truly was.
He shuddered under Hizashi’s touch; eyes half-lidded at his well-practiced actions.
With the power that only comes from experience, Hizashi managed to hide his grin from the man, dipping his head down to take the two shots that had been placed in front of him.
He felt too hot for a moment before it cleared, settling a nice temperature in his body as his sober mind drifted further away from him.
Hizashi blinked roughly, trying to get his mind back in order.
“You feeling good, doll?” The man asked, hands tracing his sides.
He felt good.
So, so good.
Too good.
Hizashi frowned, though his mind was already scrambled.
“Goodnight,” He grinned against his ear.
Hizashi didn’t have time to react before he fell into the man’s arms, incapable of processing anything.
His eyes were wild, desperate to latch onto any solid figure, though his eyesight was too blurry for that to work out well.
There were whistles and cheers as Hizashi was hefted over a broad shoulder and he couldn’t help but grit his teeth as he was jostled uncomfortably.
He swallowed and flinched as cold air assaulted his face, the slight breeze making him shiver.
Someone squeezed him tighter, trying to make sure he wouldn’t move.
Hizashi shivered again, his head pounding and heart thumping at an odd rhythm. He was moving much too fast, much too slow, and worryingly sideways.
Hizashi groaned, eyes squeezed shut.
His limp body was adjusted onto the broad shoulder easily, being pulled back closer to the man’s neck rather than hanging in the crook of his arm, and Hizashi groaned again.
“Do not throw up on me, you fucker.”
Hizashi attempted to swallow roughly but only got through the first half of the action before he groaned again, his teeth grit and head pounding.
Fuck, he needed to be put down on stable ground. Like, now.
“Can’t believe you roped me into this,” A smaller man walking beside them grumbled.
Hizashi let his eyes open, squinting harshly as he tried to not let his migraine affect him.
“You wanted the money!”
“I didn’t know you wanted me to drug a pro-hero! ”
“Yeah, say it louder, will ya?” The burly man scoffed.
Though he didn’t mean to, Hizashi groaned again, his eyes squeezing shut at the action.
“Does he ever shut up?”
The burly man hefted him up again. “You wanna be the one to try and make him shut up?”
He could feel their stares, their questionable morals wavering before the small guy shook his head, moving away. “Rather not be in hot water with the boss, thanks.”
“That’s what I thought.”
A door slammed and Hizashi belatedly realized he had been brought inside a building of some sort. Really, his mind was spinning so much he was impressed he could focus on the sound of a slamming door well enough to figure out their location had changed.
“Don’t be fucking stupid.”
Hizashi free-fell, back slamming against a cold concrete floor and hand snapping against it as he cried out. He rolled onto his stomach, forehead leaning against the dusty floor, sweat dripping down him and itchy rope circled his wrists and forearms, tying them together with terrible accuracy.
“He good?”
“Should be.”
“Thank fuck,” And at that, Hizashi’s mind cleared and cold washed over him, his body shivering uncontrollably for a moment.
His teeth chattered.
“What a bitch,” The short guy scoffed, looking down at him.
“That’s how everyone looks after your fucking quirk.”
“Then they’re all bitches."
“You’re so fucking stupid.”
“Shut the fuck up, you serial flirt-”
“What, in the everloving fuck, are you doing in my house?” A, frankly, exhausted voice spoke just then, making the two men turn their attention away from their captive and from each other.
A door slammed and Hizashi sat up, frowning, and leaned against the wall he was conveniently close to.
“We just wanted to stop by-”
“Stop…talking.”
Hizashi wasn’t even listening to their conversation, basically ignoring his captors at this point, letting his mind settle back into his body as he blinked and looked around. Though he knows he should listen, he simply couldn’t.
He just-- he thought this was a secondary location, a dingy hideout for villains to torture their captives with, a run-down apartment that was abandoned long ago.
But, apparently, someone lives here?!
Hizashi couldn’t help but groan at that thought, completely ignoring the way his kidnappers looked at him with increasing incredulity.
He’s going to have to try and teach someone the meaning of self-care, isn’t he?
“What is his problem?”
Hizashi craned his neck to look around, taking in the conditions someone else had been living in this entire time.
Really, it was good. Not only was Hizashi being given an opportunity to figure out how bad the conditions were, he could also make a guess about the personality of the villain who was living here.
The floors had a light layer of dust on them, something you couldn’t even notice unless you were tied down and placed on the floor.
Honestly, as he looked around, Hizashi could only think of how…bare it was in here.
He wasn’t wrong in his first assumption of this place being a warehouse. It was certainly furnished as one and, as far as he could tell, there was only a bathroom here. Not even a kitchen was in sight and Hizashi could only pray this villain was simply using this place to squat for a while.
God he hoped so. There’s no way it would be good news if the villain actually lived here for a while.
That would be…tragic.
Maybe Hizashi could return the favor and kidnap the villain for a change. Just to show him what an actual home looked like for a moment.
He should his head, baffled by the thought that just popped into his brain, completely unprompted.
What an odd thing to think about as he sat here, tied up and unable to move on a dusty concrete floor.
A new man came around the corner, Hizashi’s looking him up and down a few times to memorize the man’s features, the way his hair swayed back and forth with each step, his golden eyes narrowed at the men in front of him, a white scarf around his neck, downed in a dark jumpsuit, a gray belt around his waist that hung low.
He walked slowly, past the two men, and crouched down, eyes intensely looking into his own.
Hizashi swallowed, looking all around the man’s face before looking near his eyes, flicking his attention to the man’s hair for a moment to avoid the building tension he wasn’t sure what to do with.
The man smirked, head tilting slightly.
Hizashi flicked his eyes back down, staring into the man’s golden eyes.
The man stared back, something amused dancing in his pretty eyes as he did so.
Though he tried not to be, Hizashi was wholly and completely enraptured by the man in front of him. There were small flecks of obsidian in his eyes, the ring of his iris being a darker golden than the rest of it.
His skin looked paler up close, his cheeks a bit flushed, though Hizashi was positive it was because the man’s tone was so fair. Or maybe the cause could be attributed to the sudden humidity in the warehouse, because Hizashi was suddenly feeling more hot than he had any right to feel.
“You’re my captive?” The man asked, a slight tone in his voice Hizashi didn’t have the word for. It was something inquisitive, something curious, but also something possessive, and maybe a bit amused.
Hizashi flexed his ears, feeling them burn. “Depends.”
“Depends?” The man's smirk deepend and Hizashi felt his heart leap. “On what?”
Oh, this man was going to get Hizashi in trouble.
“Ahem,” Hizashi snapped his head over to see the man who had carried him over glaring at the two of them. Worryingly, Hizashi felt his face get warmer at the look. “I did the job. Pay me and I’ll go home.”
The man in front of him slowly lifted himself back up, straightening his spine, never daring to look away from Hizashi’s eyes as he did so. Then, after a few seconds, time passing for a long enough moment that Hizashi wondered if the man would ignore the villain’s inquiry about payment and continue to look at him, his head slowly turned to look at the burly man.
“You did nothing that was asked of you,” The man bluntly pointed out.
Hizashi grit his teeth and hung his head low, closing his eyes as he swallowed down the surprised laughter threatening to bubble out of him.
Maybe he was already hitting his break point. Maybe, just maybe, Hizashi was in the middle of losing his mind.
Though he could blame the drugs in his system and the alcohol still dancing in him, Hizashi knew they weren’t to blame for him nearly laughing at the two villains having a conversation about being paid for capturing an off-duty hero, one who, if he was being totally honest, would not affect the public much if he failed to be rescued.
“I still did a job you asked me to do,” The grunt spoke up again, a harsh anger lashing out from his tone.
The man in front of Hizashi turned his entire body to look at the other villain and Hizashi could only sit there, dumbfounded at what he was seeing.
Was the villain so confident in his abilities to subdue him that he felt no threat and therefore had no need to keep his full attention on him? What was his quirk? Could he feel Hizashi moving somehow, maybe he was capable of having inhumane reflexes.
There had to be a logical reason as to why he was looking at the back of his captor right then.
But Hizashi, for all the good his curiosity did for him, had no answers.
He knew without a doubt that the man had some way of keeping him in line. Power seemed to exude from him, seeping out of his pores and filling the room. It was something so breathtaking Hizashi didn’t dare allow himself to move, his breathing slowly in hopes of being spared from the quickly rising tension in the room.
“You assume capturing the wrong man is a job well done?” The man’s raven hair tilted as his head did so, Hizashi entranced at the soft strands of hair shifting. “Even a first year could figure out what I expected.”
Hizashi filed away the comment, wondering if the man taught anywhere, concerned about the amount of hope he had at finding the man when he finally got out of here, and let his eyes drift towards the burly man, who looked more angry than he, honestly, had any right to be.
“I’m not stupid!”
The raven haired man clicked his tongue, dismissing the man’s words with a simple sound like that wasn’t one of the most impressive displays of power Hizashi had had the pleasure of seeing before now.
“Then stop proving me right,” He said, casually allowing one of his hands to dip inside his dark jumpsuit’s pockets.
“You’re not the top dog around here, Eraserhead, no matter how much you pretend otherwise.”
Hizashi raised his eyebrows at the man, astonished he had been so careless as to use the villain’s name in front of him.
Apparently the villain felt the same way, hand sliding out of his pocket as he stepped forward.
Much to his confusion, the area in front of the man turned red, as if a stoplight was shining in the room, and the burly man widened his eyes, frantically looking around for an exit.
Hizashi tilted his head, glancing over to see Eraserhead’s hair lifting slightly.
Though he knew that had to be the man’s quirk, Hizashi still couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing with his own eyes.
“Get out.”
Both men scrambled out as comically as Hizashi had possibly seen.
Eraserhead, with shoulders tensed, turned back towards Hizashi, his eyes hard as he took in the small smile that had snuck its way onto his face.
Hizashi swallowed roughly, smiling dropping as quickly as he could force down, not daring to look away.
“Have something you’d like to say?” Eraserhead asked, eyes dark despite their golden color.
“You mentioned something about first years?” Hizashi tried, desperate for the man not to hate him for existing in the same space as him.
Eraserhead grunted in confirmation. “Yeah. They’re brats.”
“Don’t I know it,” Hizashi agreed, falling easily into his own rant about his students, not pushing for information from Eraserhead, not feeling the desire to do so, and kept going on about his newest students and their slightly insane questions they had asked him throughout the week.
And, though he was the one speaking, his eyes drooped far too long and his breathing evened out more than it should’ve.
Within record time, Hizashi had talked himself to sleep, leaned against the wall, looking much too casual for a hostage.
His captor smirked, a tilt to his head as he watched the man sleep for a few seconds before getting up and walking out, getting ready for his shift.
Because, despite popular opinion, being a villain did pay the bills.
And Shouta was nothing if not a workaholic.