Chapter Text
“Attention.”
In Aizawa Land, “attention” meant “good morning, associates”. Except he never actually said “good morning” because he considered it inane—unless, Izuku assumed, the morning could be specifically and objectively termed a good one. Come to think of it, was there any objective measure of goodness for anything? What does “good” even mean?
Whatever, no time for existential crisis right now, back to the captain. When he started with “attention”, it could mean one of two things. One was that he legitimately wanted their attention. Izuku trashed that option immediately. Aizawa usually just said what he wanted to say and then blamed them if they weren’t listening. The second option was that he had some serious—possibly bad—news to impart. Which, come to think of it, didn’t exactly preclude option one. Maybe he wanted their attention because the news he had was serious.
“You’re mumbling again, Midoriya.” Dark eyes bored into his. Oof.
“Sorry, captain.” That was a callout if he ever heard one. Not that he’d yelled or anything, but Izuku was pretty sure he’d only heard Aizawa raise his voice once in the entire time he’d been at the precinct—and even then it was an oddly fuzzy memory, as if Shouta Aizawa could erase that impression by sheer force of will alone—so that wasn’t the best indicator.
“Anyway—” Oh man, prevarication? It must be serious. “In light of nearly a year with the precinct, I’d like to take this weekend to conduct an assessment of individual progress.”
In front of him, Uraraka squeaked. “Like a test? Why…se. Very wise.” She laughed nervously.
Hmmm.
Aizawa nodded. “A ‘self test’, if you will.”
Izuku blew out a breath. Oh, so not serious at all. Wow, Izuku had really misread that one, damn. Uraraka did not seem relieved at the “self” part of the test situation, but then, as competent as she was, Ochako Uraraka was her own harshest critic—this must be torture for her.
Izuku raised a hand. “Will this be multiple choice?”
At the back of the room, Izuku could feel Tenya’s disapproval. “You can’t ‘christmas tree’ a self-assessment, Izuku.” Beside him, Shouto snorted and shook his head.
“I can do anything I put my mind to, Sarge! That’s just the kind of can-do attitude we have around here, right, Uraraka?” He turned and pointed at the worried woman.
“Who am I?” Uraraka whispered staring sightlessly at her morning coffee.
Izuku turned past her, undeterred. “Right, Eijirou?”
“Right!” Kirishima cheered, standing with vigor and nearly knocking the table over.
“Attaboy, Eijirou!” Izuku turned back to Aizawa, whose position at the podium had not changed.
“Order will be at your discretion, but I do expect every detective to undergo this assessment. And be aware you will be sharing space with the weekend staff until this is finished—I expect professional behavior at all times. Dismissed.” Without another word, he walked out of the briefing room, immediately disappearing into his office.
***
“I can’t express how eager I am to begin the self-assessments, sir!” Tenya adjusted his glasses and smoothed over his shirt, unable to contain himself. “The squad has made so much progress in the past year, I—I feel like a proud mother hen whose baby chicks have learned to fly.”
“It sounds as if you’re expressing yourself just fine, Sergeant Iida,” Aizawa sighed. “And interesting you chose chickens, considering they’re notoriously bad at flying.”
“Sir, you know what I mea—”
“Enough. Go get Katsuki so we can start this charade.”
***
Shouto glared through the breakroom window out into the bullpen.
“Uh, what’s the death glare for, dude?” Nobody glared better than Shouto. His entire presence screamed “don’t fuck with me” and that was when he was in a good mood. It was hot as hell, but Eijirou didn’t go there anymore.
“I hate the weekend squad. Detective Shinsou leaves cat hair around my desk. It got so bad last Monday it disabled the ‘r’ key on my keyboard.”
Izuku, who’d been contemplating the vending machine with undue consideration and characteristic muttering, turned and smirked. “Definitely explains that email you sent me about a ‘guesome mude’. Thought we’d discovered some kind of new drug until the context hit me.” Not waiting for a response, he bounded out the door straight for Aizawa’s office.
”Good luck, bro! You got this!” Eijirou called after him before turning back to Shouto.
The taller man had not moved from the window, watching narrow-eyed as a tired-looking detective approached his desk. “Shows zero consideration for the rest of the squad. You don’t see me leaving cat hair on things.”
“Oh, you have a cat?” Eijirou asked, curious.
“No. Pets are a financial sinkhole at best.”
Okaaaay. “Look, I doubt Shinsou means to leave the hair…he probably does it everywhere and just sits at your desk the most. People aren’t usually deliberately mean and petty.”
The sidelong glance Shouto shot him was disbelieving, but he said nothing.
Eijirou heaved a sigh. “Sad for you, man. My own desk buddy leaves me cake! We exchange presents occasionally.” He pointed at where Detective Satou was slouched in his chair.
“Shinsou and I only talk to each other when it’s absolutely necessary.” Shouto shrugged, as if that was a normal way to interact with a coworker
Eijirou raced to calm him down. “Why don’t you ask him to be careful about cat hair? Or at least clean it up before he leaves?”
“He denies doing it,” Shouto growled through gritted teeth. “Don’t know why. If I find any evidence that he’s doing it on purpose or is even just being careless, I am going to set him on fire to the point they’ll need to identify him with dental records.”
“Could, ah… could that be why he denies doing it?” Eijirou asked tentatively.
Shouto’s eyebrows wrinkled for a moment before his implacable face smoothed in realization. “Oh. Yeah.” He nodded his agreement. “You could be right. Huh.”
Eijirou gave him a disbelieving smile and sipped his coffee.
***
“Expecting great things, Mother Hen,” Aizawa sat back in his chair and gestured for his most…intuitive detective to enter his office.
Tenya gave him a pleading look over his assessment sheet before turning to Aizawa. “Midoriya requested to go first, which is an indicator that he is taking this seriously.”
Izuku snorted. “Uh, yeah, sure. Definitely not that I want this to be over with so I can move on to other more urgent matters. Not that I consider anything more urgent than the preservation of justice and my civic duty to this city—”
“Midoriya, go.” Aizawa leaned forward, propping his elbows on his desk to steeple his hands in front of his mouth. His entire demeanor radiated judgement.
“Sure, right, yeah.” He straightened and rattled off, “I have the highest arrest count of everyone in the precinct this year, an 80% clearance rate, even taking into account that one slump, you know the one, and—ooh, this is a big one—I am finally learning how to tie a tie.” He gestured to the wad of red fabric hanging from his neck. “Am I right, gentlemen? Most Improved Player, right here.”
Tenya facepalmed. “Izuku, you’re a good detective, and Most Improved is usually a pity award given to poor performing members of a group…”
“Even better!” Izuku rushed to add, “Since I was already a great detective—”
“—I said ‘good’.” Tenya crossed his arms.
Izuku ignored the correction. “—my improvement means I am that much greater. Perhaps even...The Greatest?” His green eyes lit up as some fantasy sprinted across his mind. “Current title holder is Sherlock Holmes, so—”
“Hercule Poirot.” Aizawa mused.
“Nancy Drew had them both beat, and she was only a teenager,” Tenya added. They all stared at him. “What? My girls love detective stories, and Nancy did good work! Tenya gives credit where it’s due!”
“Right,” Izuku snickered. “But see, now that I’ve improved from great to greatest, I figure you can probably spot me a bit of money? Think of it as a thank you for all my hard work, my commitment to the grand profession of protecting this city, an homage to not just my own progress but the progress of the city, nay the country as a result of the work of this precinct, and inside that precinct, little ol me, who just needs maybe 4 or 5 hundred grand—”
“Jesus, for what?” Tenya gasped.
Izuku grimaced. “I need to buy my apartment? I was living at my mom’s old place since it was rent-controlled, but now the building’s going co-op, so I gotta buy it. And as I am currently the most undervalued, underpaid detective in this fair city, I figure a loan wouldn’t be too much trouble. Should we do a check or cash? Cash seems easier, let’s just do cash.”
“Deku, how the hell did you manage to lose Auntie Inko’s apartment?” Katsuki, who’d been sitting in the corner with a notepad and pen, finally straightened in his seat and gave Izuku a hard glare.
“I haven’t lost it yet!” Izuku corrected, before turning back to his superiors. “I just need to finalize this loan before the end of the day…”
Tenya frowned. “Shouldn’t you be asking a bank instead of people from work?”
Izuku chuckled. “Oh yeah, I tried that.” His expression said it had not gone well.
“Idiot, you realize how many memories I have in that place?” Katsuki leaned back, ignoring his notes now in favor of reminiscing. “It’s a nice apartment, too. Wasted on you.”
“That’s right, Kacchan and I spent a lot of time there, exploring and playing by ourselves. Alone. Ya know, because our moms both worked...and we didn’t have fathers…”
“Midoriya, I am not spotting you half a million dollars just because you had a slightly sad childhood.” Aizawa’s patience was beginning to unravel. Izuku wilted. “Get this solved and come back ready to take this seriously.”
“I’ll help. Auntie’s basically the reason I made it through high school. She made me the ruthless survivor I am today.” Katsuki gave a feral grin.
Tenya had met Izuku’s mother. The woman had the appearance of a cherub, so that description was rather jarring. Also, it’s not like she was dead!
“Cool. C’mon Kacchan.” He grabbed his friend’s arm.
“Just because you’ve been irresponsible enough to need time off work doesn’t mean Katsuki does. He is needed for assessment notes—I don’t know if we can spare him.” Aizawa cut his eyes to the blonde.
Izuku grabbed the “notes”. “All he’s got is ‘extra spicy curry’, ‘Atlantic City’, and ‘creatine’.”
Katsuki snatched back the notebook. “Nah, that’s my travel itinerary for this weekend. Didn’t start the notes yet.”
“Just go,” Aizawa sighed.
***
Something approaching rage or horror tightened Shouto’s mouth as they watched Detective Shinsou stand from Shouto’s chair, take off his jacket, and give the thing a hearty shake, resulting in a plume of fine hair that drifted to settle all over the desk.
There was murder in Shouto’s eyes. Eijirou knew he was three seconds away from an incident that would send him back to therapy for the next three months. “Hey. Shouto. Let’s calm down and think for a second.” He pointed at the hair. “He clearly knows he’s doing it, considering he, uh, shook it out all over your computer.”
“My desk, Kirishima. I put my feet there sometimes.” His expression suggested this was practically a criminal act. And considering all the designer shoes the guy wore, he made a decent point.
“Right, so…” Eijirou drew out the pause for effect. “How about we give him a taste of his own medicine?”
***
“Fuck, I haven’t been here in a hot minute.” Katsuki looked around Izuku’s spacious, no-longer-rent-controlled apartment with naked appreciation. “Can’t believe you fucked up renting this place so bad, Deku.”
“And just like at least half the things you’ve blamed me for in the past ever, Kacchan, this is not my fault.”
The blonde snorted. “Right. You don’t just get evicted outta nowhere, fuckwad. You get notices and shit.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, I know nothing.” He dug in the refrigerator and emerged with a pair of frosted bottles. “‘Cept that if I’m about to be homeless, we’re gonna have to do something with these.” He waggled one at Katsuki.
“Oh, so it’s that kind of visit.” Katsuki smirked and unscrewed his bottle, taking a long swig.
“Well, not like you ever come over anymore,” Izuku said, wiping his mouth after his own gulp of beer. “So it’s like a reunion-slash-eviction party! With just the two of us!”
Katsuki tipped his head back and cackled. “Yeah, ‘cause you’ve got so many other friends to hang with, loser.” He took a more restrained sip of his drink and looked around the room again. “Fuck, I’ve got so many memories here. Remember when we found the fireworks beneath the stairs?”
Izuku held up a scarred hand. “How could I forget?” He grinned and wiggled a few permanently bent fingers. “What about the time with the lizard and the magnets?”
Katsuki shot forward, hunching at he nearly choked on his mouthful of beer. “My mom almost kicked me out of the house for that, and we still don’t know what happened to the neighbor’s dog.”
Izuku grinned wider. “Cheers, Kacchan.”
Katsuki dutifully clinked his bottle with his friend’s. “Yeah, yeah, cheers. Let’s kill these and get to work.”
***
“Ah!” Tenya smiled as he looked at his clipboard, having taken over the administrative side of the evaluations since it was clear Katsuki wouldn’t be doing it. “Next is Detective—”
“—Uraraka, that’s me, Detective Uraraka, Ochako Uraraka,” Ochako rushed through the door and closed it smartly behind her. “Sorry for interrupting, but I read your lips and realized you were introducing me. So. Here I am!”
Tenya sighed and motioned to the seat in front of the desk. Ochako ignored him, standing with her hands clasped nervously in front of her. “I also read that this evaluation will be a 10-question self-evaluation?”
“For everyone else, yes,” Aizawa finally cut in, holding the woman’s gaze with his own. “But for you, there will only be one question.”
Ochako squeaked. “O-oh. And what is—”
“What do you consider to be your…” Aizawa folded his hands on his desk and hardened his glare at the detective, “…greatest weakness?”
Beside him, Tenya stiffened, glasses flashing as his eyes darted between his boss and his subordinate.
“Easy!” Ochako said, full of momentary false bravado. “Working too hard!”
Aizawa didn’t blink, just tilted his head and twitched an eyebrow.
Ochako’s facade of confidence shattered immediately. “Oh, that wasn’t the right answer.” She shuffled her feet slightly. “Being too thorough? Caring too much?”
Her face lit up. “Oh, got it!” She started backing toward the door. “None of those.” She fumbled at the doorknob behind her. “Something entirely different.” And then she was gone, the captain’s door hanging open to reveal a mostly unphased bullpen.
Aizawa sighed.
***
“Okay, so how are we looking?” Izuku, still slightly buzzed, tipped his head toward Katsuki as he shuffled through various documents at a wobbly card table beside the kitchen.
Katsuki pulled his glasses down and gave Izuku a faux sultry glance. “Sexy, but not like we’re trying too hard.” With an air of nonchalance, he whipped off the glasses entirely, continuing, “Like, sure, we’re trying, but it’s almost effortless.”
Izuku grinned hazily. “Yeah, I knew all that, but I meant, the financial stuff.”
“Yeah, the big thing is you’ve gotta get this fanboy thing under control, idiot.” He gestured around the apartment. “Deku, you’ve got six All Might standees. And I haven’t even been in the spare bedroom.”
“There’s two more in there, in case my guests get lonely when they stay over.”
“Upsetting but not surprising.” Katsuki sighed. “And the figurines?”
“They’ll only increase in value!”
“They’re not even collectible! I’m ashamed to know you. If I didn’t work fifteen feet away from your desk with you constantly in my line of sight I’d be convinced you were a loser shut-in with no friends except your creepy All Might body pillow which I do not want you to confirm the existence of, thanks,” he warned.
“So I need to cut back?”
“We’re long past that. You’re clearly not using your actual brain, idiot. It says here you rented the last All Might movie a dozen times?” He pointed at an invoice. “Did you keep getting interrupted? Was it not obvious enough he was going to win?”
“It’s a good movie!” Izuku collapsed onto his couch. “So you’re saying…?”
“You’re fucked.” Katsuki stood from the little plastic table and stretched. “And you said you didn’t know about it till this morning? That seems super illegal.”
“I guess it’s possible I missed a notice, but I doubt it. Let’s check the mail tub!”
Katsuki’s eyes widened. “The what?”
Horrifyingly, Izuku’s guest bathroom contained a bathtub overflowing with various letters and documents. He skimmed a hand through the top layer, retrieving a few letters and eyeballing the labels before shrugging and tossing them back. “See? It’s impossible to find anything in here.”
Katsuki looked like he was going to implode, then he took a breath and swallowed the scathing retort in favor of examining the room they were in. “Heh. This is a pretty nice bathroom to be going unused, Deku.” Spacious, well-lit, antique brass fixtures, claw-foot tub…
When he said as much, Izuku just shrugged. “Not great for mail storage, though, apparently.”
“You’re a fucking moron.”
“A moron who's about to be consigned to live on the streets,” Izuku agreed mournfully. “Unless…” His face scrunched up in thought. “I didn’t want to do this, but I do know one way we can get money.”
“You’d make a decent prostitute,” Katsuki remarked thoughtfully.
“Why are the only compliments I get from you actually insults?” Izuku complained. “And I’d make an amazing prostitute, thank you very much.” He glared at Katsuki’s smirk. “But no, I was talking about this guy I know, Giran. He’s kind skeevy, but he’ll loan money to anybody.”
“So he’s a loan shark,” Katsuki said flatly, unimpressed. “Use your fucking head, idiot—not thinking things through is how you got into this clusterfuck. How the fuck do you manage to catch bad guys on a single brain cell?”
“My brain cells, plural,” he stressed, causing Katsuki to roll his eyes, “are reserved solely for catching bad guys, Kacchan.”
Katsuki snorted. “Yeah, that explains it.”
“And speaking of thinking things through, I’m not the one who’s been engaged eight times!”
“Never married, though, Detective. Game, set, match. Baku-boom.”
Izuku snickered. “Lame.”
“Nah, just some gratuitous name-dropping of my dance crew. BakuBoom needs no introduction.”
Izuku shook his head. “Well, I’m not financially solvent enough for a hobby like that, Kacchan. Giran’s my last hope.”
“It’s not a hobby, Deku, it’s a lifestyle, and I still say this is a huge mistake, but let’s go.”
***
“So he’s clearly not using a lint roller or anything to get hair off his clothes, so we’ll just have to help him out.” Eijirou said conspiratorially as he stepped into the break room where Shouto waited.
Shouto sat stiffly on the break room couch. “I do not want to help him. I want him to regret his existence.” Then he caught sight of the bag hanging off Eijirou’s arm. “What’s that?”
Eijirou grinned. “There’s more than one way to help someone, my man.” He held up the bag. “Mina gave me some leftover hair from the salon. I figure we can teach him a lesson that if he’s gonna get hair everywhere, he should use something sticky to remove it.” He dug into the bag and held up one of many bottles of glue he’d brought.
Shouto gave an overly wide, scary grin. “Well, that’s the kind of help I can get behind.”
A few minutes later found them squirting glue and throwing loose hair into Shinsou’s locker. Eijirou had never seen Shouto smile so much. Pity it was in pursuit of revenge.
Trying to inspire a smile that wasn’t petty or vindictive in nature, Eijirou smeared a bit of Elmer’s on his chin and gave himself a little goatee, then stroked it. “Ah, yes, I see you’ve chosen the hair gambit, wise move, young grasshopper.”
Shouto snorted and threw a wad of hair at him. Eijirou snickered and accidentally inhaled a few strands of hair. He coughed in panic. “Ack, gross, gross, gross! Stranger hair in my mouth!”
Shouto just laughed harder as they continued to defile their fellow detective’s locker.
***
“Hey, kiddo. What’s the haps?” A man with grungy, purple-gray hair and tiny tinted glasses perched on his nose leaned over his desk to shake Izuku’s hand.
“Giran! I’ll cut to the chase, I’m looking for a loan. What kind of interest do you charge?” Izuku asked as Katsuki notably stepped back and avoided touching the seated man.
“Ah, I’m wounded you’re not visiting just for my stunning personality, greenbean. I’ll tell ya straight, I’m not a bank. This is my own personal money, so I take a bigger vig. 20 points.”
“‘Vig’, huh? That’s legit.” Izuku looked excited.
“It is the opposite of that, Deku.” Katsuki ran a hand through his hair, frustrated.
“Well, I don’t need much. Like, $430,000.” Izuku made big ol’ puppy eyes at the grizzled man in the seat before him.
Giran leaned back in his chair and held up his hands. “Whoa there, champ. Let’s take it slow. It’s a personal, even intimate little business I run here. I only do small loans to desperate losers.” He tilted his head and added with a smirk. “And close friends, like you, bud.”
Katsuki could no longer resist slapping Izuku in the back of the head. “Right, I’ll be taking my special needs friend here home. I truly hope you have a terrible day.”
“Kacchan!” Izuku struggled free of his friend’s grip. “Don’t ruin my last chance of keeping my mom’s apartment!” He turned back to Giran, whose sly eyes flitted back and forth between the two of them. “What about $20,000?”
Giran grinned. “Ah, two bags of ziti, that I can do.” He reached behind his desk and emerged with two large rolls of bills, bound tightly with a rubber band.
Izuku looked at the ads of cash with wide eyes. “Gah, ‘bags of ziti’? Look, he just has that lying around! Kacchan, this is perfect, get on board!”
“Yeah, Kacchan,” Giran grinned, revealing slightly yellow teeth. “Get on board.”
***
The door to Aizawa’s office swung open yet again, admitting Ochako once more.
“Okay, sirs, I think I’ve got this now.” She straightened and adjusted her shirt. “This isn’t a job interview, but I was treating it like one—giving a weakness that was actually a strength, kinda like how Tenya says it’s bad how he works out too much.”
Tenya shifted in affront. “We could refrain from involving me in your self-evaluation, Detective Uraraka.” He emphasized “self” pointedly.
Ochako winced. “Right, sorry. But you don’t want that,” she continued, refocusing on Aizawa, “because you value honesty and humility above all else.”
“I also value brevity, Uraraka. Get to the point. What’s your biggest weakness?”
Ochako pulled out a slip of paper and began reading aloud. “I'm too competitive, prone to jealousy, can be ‘kind of intense’, tend to get caught up in tiny details, don't know how to relax, and every now and then, I smoke a cigarette." She hunched in on herself. “Is that what you’re looking for? I’ve got more!”
“Uraraka—”
“Oh god, ‘Uraraka’ in B flat. You’re disappointed. That wasn’t the right answer.” She said it as if the world was crashing down around her. “Well. Okay. I’m going to head to an undisclosed location and make sure no one is smoking there.”
Once again, she disappeared from the office. Tenya took a moment to glare at his superior before heading out into the bullpen after her.
***
“So when are we doing this?” Shouto eyed the detective sitting at his desk, still spreading cat hair with every move.
“Well, Shinsou normally hits the lockers before he works out, so let’s see when that’ll be.” Eijirou beckoned him to the desk with him.
“Heyyyy, Shinsou,” Eijirou grinned brightly at the tired-looking man. “You’re looking a bit stressed. You hittin the gym today? Might help.”
Shinsou turned away from his computer screen and rubbed his eyes. “Nah, not today. Thanks for worrying about me, though, Kirishima.” He gave Eijirou a weak smile. Oh no. “I’ve just been so tired lately. They diagnosed Fugu with feline leukemia. She’s losing a lot of hair and she’s in so much pain, her meowing keeps me up at night.”
He and Shouto shot each other a look. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, buddy,” Eijirou sympathized, only for Shinsou to continue.
“Yeah, and it’s been so rough not being able to sleep that Neito has been taking sleep medication, a-and I’m worried he’s addicted, but he says he’s fine? So we’re dealing with that. I really love him, but every time this comes up, we just argue. It’s really putting stress on our relationship. I… I don’t know if we’re gonna last.” He gave a hollow laugh. “But at least I can feel useful at work, ya know? And I’ve got friends who worry about me here and all. Thanks for letting me vent, guys.” He wiped his eyes.
The panic in Shouto’s eyes was unprecedented. “Yes. Indeed. I…treasure your friendship, Shinsou. Eijirou, can I talk to you for a moment?”
Eijirou nodded, and after bidding Shinsou a heartfelt goodbye, the two of them scurried back to the break room. Shit.
***
After striking out with the building’s super, Izuku had started to lose hope. Apparently they’d been sending him notices and voicemails for the last six months? But this was the 21st century, who checked that kind of thing?
Katsuki had punched him in the arm a little harder than necessary and insisted that there were more apartments in the city, which was certainly hard to dispute. But considering his budget, it was hard to find anything decent—one of the better options had a toilet in the middle of the living room. “For when you’re full of shit everywhere you go!” Katsuki had cackled.
They ended up right back on Izuku’s couch, and now Izuku didn’t even have a buzz or any more options to pursue to brighten his mood. “I’m really gonna be homeless,” he realized. “I’m gonna be a homeless cop. I’m like a made-for-TV movie that I won’t even be able to watch because the TV came with the apartment, and I won’t have either one by the end of the week because I’ll be homeless.”
“Well for one, you could definitely watch it on your phone. Just don’t rent it twelve goddamn times. And two…” Katsuki hesitated, which was entirely unlike him. Izuku raised his head from his hands to look at his friend. “…I could buy this place from you.”
Izuku frowned. “What?”
“Yeah, then you could just rent from me till you found a new place.”
“With what money, Kacchan? Are you selling drugs or something? Should I be worried?” Izuku raised an eyebrow at him.
“I’ve been saving. If there’s one thing the hag taught me, it’s to be self-sufficient. Easy to be thrifty just by cutting your own hair, walk to work, dance for tips, and steal Sero’s lunch every day.” He grinned. “Plus, my own apartment is shit, but it’s cheap shit and I’ve been there for years. I’ve actually got money now, and I’m on the market for a better real estate opportunity.”
“A real estate opportunity? Izuku repeated, staring at his friend in disbelief. “Are you serious?”
“Wake the fuck up, Deku. I could give you an actual fair rent if I was your landlord.”
“My…landlord…” Izuku said faintly. “Kacchan, I saw you scream at a tree the other day for being too tall. You drank five beers to my one before 10 am this morning. You have a dance crew called BakuBoom, for chrissakes—you can’t be anyone’s landlord.”
“Heh, you always did look down on me, didn’t you? I may have anger issues, but you’ve got impulse control issues. Not everyone spends on every little thing they want without thinking about the consequences. If you ever rubbed your two brain cells together enough to form a thought that’s not related to police work, you’d realize what a good fucking deal this is for you.”
“Good thing I still have this apartment for another day or two so I can rightfully tell you to leave, Kacchan.” Izuku held open the door. “I don’t need your pity or false confidence. Just go.”
Katsuki scoffed. “You’ve got some serious growing up to do, Deku. Hope it doesn’t bite you in the ass again,” he snarled, slamming the door as he left the apartment.
Alone again in an apartment he was about to lose forever, Izuku felt his eyes begin to burn. “Fuck!”
***
Aizawa was getting tired of having his work interrupted without prior notice. He supposed it was his fault for declaring “open-office” hours for these evaluations, but didn’t anyone here knock? Even Uraraka had been barging in today, and he could usually count on her to be courteous.
To his surprise, he found Tenya escorting two of his detectives in at once. Aizawa rubbed his temples. “You are aware that these are self-evaluations, yes? Why are the two of you here together?”
Kaminari rubbed a soothing hand on his partner’s shoulder. “Sero doesn’t handle pressure well,” he explained. “C’mon, buddy, let’s do this.”
“Uhh,” Sero gulped and looked at Aizawa’s judging face then at Tenya’s encouraging one. “Umm…”
Kaminari released the other man and stepped forward. “Not to brag but Sero and I have a combined total of fourteen arrests!” He jabbed a thumb at his chest proudly.
“Would’ve been twenty, but fourteen’s good.”
“No, it’s not,” Aizawa replied immediately. “It’s not even ‘good’ for a single detective, much less two of them together.”
Sero made a choking sound, and Kaminari grabbed him again, turning to frown thunderously at his boss. “Well, nobody asked you, did they?”
“Again, self-evaluation.” Aizawa deadpanned.
Kaminari just huffed, tugging Sero to the door. “C’mon, Sero. We don’t need this.” He glared once more at Aizawa before he slammed the door behind him with an angry “Good day, sir!”
***
“Well, at least I was right about using sticky stuff! The dried glue peels the hair right off!” Eijirou skimmed his hand along the inside of Shinsou’s locker, looking for conveniently congealed spots.
“But not all of it’s dry, Eijirou,” Shouto said through gritted teeth, holding up a hand tacky with glue and hair. “And picking at individual wads just spreads it around.”
“Maybe we can blow on it to dry it faster?” Eijirou suggested, leaning forward to put his words into action.
“Ugh.”
“What the hell is going on here?”
Eijirou and Shouto jerked guiltily away from the locker to see Captain Aizawa glaring down at them. He was accompanied by a horrified looking Tenya, who took a deep breath and tried, “I’m sure there’s a very reasonable explanation for this, sir.”
“Uhhh,” Eijirou looked to Shouto for help, but the heterochromatic eyes of his partner in crime didn’t so much as blink. “We accidentally dropped all of our glue and loose hair in this locker and now we’re cleaning it out?”
Aizawa seethed. “Hasn’t Detective Shinsou been through enough? I’ve taken a personal interest in his case, since his recent transfer was delayed for nearly a year. You know he was just diagnosed with prostate cancer, right?”
“Of course he was,” Shouto said flatly.
Eijirou was still focused on the earlier information. A personal interest? Aizawa never did anything personal. And come to think of it, this was the most either of them had heard Aizawa speak at once time outside of case briefings. They were in so much trouble.
“Clean this up. Now.” Aizawa’s voice was practically arctic.
“Yes, sir!” But the furious captain was already stalking away, leaving them with their disappointed sergeant.
Tenya shook his head at them. “Honestly, what is wrong with you two?” He put his hands behind his head and looked at the ceiling, attempting another calming breath. “I’ve lost control of my squad.” He huffed and shook his head again. “I’m gonna go have some orange juice,” he muttered, marching out of the room.
“Tenya loves OJ,” Eijirou whispered as soon as he was out of earshot.
Shouto cracked a grin at him. “You know he never abbreviates it,” he chuckled, redirecting his gaze at the filthy locker. “This was fun, though,” he admitted.
“Yeah,” Eijirou agreed. “It’s been nice just hanging with you, dude. Thought it might be weird after I came out a few months ago.”
“It was weird,” Shouto scooped another mass of sticky hair from the locker. “Not the bisexual part, just that it was, uh, me.”
Eijirou smiled. “Dunno why, plenty of people think you’re hot.” He shrugged. “And I’ve got Mina now.”
“Right.” Shouto grimaced scraping glue off of what looked like a windbreaker. They’d have to wash that before Shinsou saw it. “And you guys have a big date tonight, right?”
“Aww, look who’s reaching out!” Eijirou nudged him playfully. “Yeah, we are, and it’s gonna be epic. She’s bringing handcuffs and—”
“That’s more than enough information, thanks,” Shouto grimaced.
Eijirou just laughed.
***
“Whoa, you okay?”
Izuku turned from his intense regard of the break room couch to look at Ochako. “Just checking out my new bedroom.” He collapsed onto the couch and sniffed. “Oh, lovely. It smells like donuts and disappointment.”
“What did you expect? Pretty sure that’s the signature scent of police work. Plus, they exist.” Ochako pointed across the bullpen at Kaminari and Sero, who were fighting over a dorito that had gotten stuck in the crack separating their desks. Neither of them could reach it, but both were too stubborn and lazy to actually get up so it was mostly just growling and attempts to jostle the desks.
Izuku smiled fondly. “Always cheers me up.”
Ochako shook her head. “Ugh. So I take it the apartment thing didn’t go well?”
“When did everyone become an adult?” Izuku asked in lieu of answering. “I mean, you at least have the mental stability and fashion sense to pass as an adult, but...”
“Thanks?” Ochako crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him.
Izuku waved her off, still getting comfortable on the couch. “But get this: Kacchan offered to buy my apartment and become my landlord.”
“Izuku…” Ochako looked troubled.
“I know,” he sighed. “He was just trying to help, but we've known each other since we were kids! I got him this job, you know! And he almost turned it down because he thought it was ‘beneath him’—which is fair because it probably is. But just because he’s better than this job doesn’t mean he’s better than me. And then I find out he’s been saving up? That he can buy me out and I’m supposed to be okay with that?”
“Izuku…” Her voice held a warning tone.
“I know!” Izuku flailed into a sitting position on the couch and repeated, “I know. I’m being an asshole, and the person I’m really mad at is myself for not living up to my own weird expectations of adulthood. I really messed this up, didn’t I, Ochako?”
Ochako sighed. “Izuku…”
“Yeah, you’re right. I should just go back and talk to him about it. Thanks for helping me out!” He bounced off the couch, newly determined.
“Didn’t actually say anything, don’t want credit if it goes wrong!” She yelled after him as he headed toward the door.
He paused. “Hmmm, given my track record…yeah, that checks. Good thinking.”
“Oh, wait!” She yelled again, and he paused again in the doorway, giving her a look. “Sorry. Just…what would you say Aizawa thinks is my biggest weakness?”
Izuku frowned. “Why does it matter what Aizawa thinks?” He grinned. “What really matters is what I think your weaknesses are! And man, are there a bunch—too competitive, prone to jealousy, ‘kind of intense’, waaay too detail-oriented,” he lowered his voice, “your shame cigarettes.”
“Oh my god…” She stared at him, horrified.
“But your biggest weakness?” He stuck a hand in his pocket and pulled out a familiar slip of paper. “Not great at throwing out your secret lists,” he teased, tossing the paper at her as he finally left the room.
***
A knock sounded against his door for the first time today despite all his various visitors. Aizawa looked up with red-rimmed eyes and called, “Well, come in then.”
Sergeant Iida stepped inside and politely closed the door behind him then, to Aizawa’s surprise, began closing the blinds, too. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to yell at you, and I don’t want Uraraka to read our lips,” Tenya said firmly as he turned and faced the captain, light glinting ominously off his glasses.
“Excuse me?” Aizawa eyed him over the tops of his own glasses before removing them entirely, placing them carefully on the desk in front of him. “Well?”
“You were completely unfair to my squad today, sir!” Tenya fumed, frustration bleeding into his voice and stiff movements. “Uraraka is one of your best detectives, and all you wanted to do was play mind games with her!”
He began pacing around the office, large frame awkward in the small space. “Kaminari and Sero may only have fourteen arrests this year, but that’s eight more than last year!”
“They only had six arrests last year?” Aizawa’s eyes widened as he shuffled through the papers on his desk.
“I’m not finished!” Tenya announced, drawing his attention back to him as he continued to vent his frustrations. “And I know Izuku can be childish, but he leads the precinct in arrests, and his maturity has improved by leaps and bounds just in the last few months! So I think—”
“Sit down, Sergeant.” Aizawa cut in, gesturing rather anticlimactically at the chair in front of him. “I think it’s time to do your evaluation.”
Tenya adjusted his tie and sat, fighting to hold Aizawa’s gaze.
“Sergeant Iida, you’re absolutely right. I have been hard on the squad.” Tenya’s shoulders slumped in surprise. Aizawa’s eyes sparked with muted amusement as he leaned back in his chair. “You’re a good leader. And the mere fact that you took it upon yourself to defend them says a lot about the trust you have built between you and the squad. It’s because of that trust and camaraderie that they respect you so much.” He leaned forward and swiped his glasses off the desk, gesturing at Tenya with them. “I could learn a lot from you, and you have every right to feel like a—how did you refer to it this morning?”
“Ah, a proud mother hen, sir.” Tenya flushed slightly.
Aizawa nodded slowly. “Proud…mother… hen.” His mouth twitched in what might have been a smile. “Exactly.”
***
Izuku knocked on the door apprehensively. An alarming number of rattling lock sounds emanated from it before it opened and Katsuki appeared before him, garbed in bright gold sweatpants and a shirt with a skull on it. For Katsuki, this outfit was beyond tame, practically wholesome. He must really be hurt.
Katsuki crossed his arms and glared, blocking the doorway. “What do you want, Deku?” He jerked his head back toward his living room. “I’m trying to watch Footloose, which is what I always watch when my friends are being close-minded dicks.”
Not touching that one, Izuku sighed. “I came here to apologize. I was mad at you for being more together than me, and that’s on me, not you. I felt stupid, and I acted out. I’m sorry.”
Katsuki snorted. “Yeah, you were stupid, and you should be sorry.” Izuku rolled his eyes as he continued. “But watching Kevin Bacon free the minds of these backwoods assholes with the power of dance has really reminded me that I have the power to change people’s minds, too. Like with you coming back here to grovel—”
“Not groveling,” Izuku interjected.
“—and beg for my forgiveness, having realized the error of your ways. So I, like a dark angel of the night who sees your sins and lets you live anyway, will also let this slide.”
Izuku waited for a moment to make sure he was done. “Right. Great! And you should totally buy my mom’s apartment.” He threw up his hands to stymy any arguments his melodramatic friend might make. “Not for me! You should live there. All the memories we have there together? Someone in the family should stay there, and god knows I can’t afford to for long.” He grimaced. “Besides, like you said before, it’s a great real estate opportunity.” He repeated Katsuki’s earlier word with a mocking twist of his lips.
“Oi, fuck you, Deku! Just for that, I will buy it out from under you!” He hesitated. “But…what the hell are you gonna do then? We couldn’t find an apartment…”
“I’ll live here.” Izuku gestured at the apartment Katsuki was standing in. “I can sublet from you—like you said, rent’s cheap! Plus, I ran the numbers: I can keep paying the same amount I paid for mom’s place to you, and you’ll actually make a bit of money off it. Win-win.”
“It’s a shitty apartment, Deku.” Katsuki looked him up and down dubiously.
Izuku laughed. “And I’m a shitty adult.” He shrugged. “It’s what I get for only just now paying attention to things like…” he made a face, “…finances. And hey, maybe I can sell some of my collectibles or something to start making a dent.”
“Doubt it, nerd. But you got yourself a deal.” Katsuki sniffed and held out a hand.
“Ooh, official!” Izuku grinned and shook his friend’s hand, before tugging it in an attempt to initiate a hug. “Now bring it in, Kacchan!”
“Absolutely not.”
***
Aizawa received a second (and hopefully final) knock on his door. “Come in.”
Uraraka walked in, this time leaving the door open behind her. Aizawa raised an eyebrow at her. “Hello, Detective. Is there a reason you’re interrupting me in the middle of a meal?”
“That’s just a jelly pouch, but yes. There is.” She took a deep breath. “I’m ready for my self-evaluation.” Settling into the seat at his gesture, she continued. “I asked Izuku what you thought my greatest weakness might be and he said ‘why does it matter what Aizawa thinks?’”
“Not surprising,” Aizawa said drily. “He has surprising little respect for authority for someone in law enforcement.”
Uraraka nodded absently. “Right, right. But he wasn’t wrong. My biggest weakness is caring too much about what people think of me, particularly you, Captain. I even ignored the phrasing and parameters of the question just trying to figure out what you wanted.” She frowned and clenched her fists. “I need to be more confident in my own judgment! So…so…to prove that I’m confident that I’m right, I’m not even gonna ask for your opinion!”
She stood up from the chair and did a little bow before thinking better of it. “Self evaluation over! Enjoy your…meal.” With that, she turned and marched out of his office without looking back, the door snapping shut behind her.
Alone in his office once more, Aizawa picked up his jelly pack, giving it a long look, and with no witnesses there to shock and awe, he smiled.
***