Chapter Text
Chapter One
The alarm blares into the empty room that is cloaked in a porpoise fog as light attempts to spread throughout black curtains. A scarred hand peaks out from the covers and slaps blindly at the phone that is disturbing the man’s sleep. Quilted covers are thrown off dramatically as he groans loudly for no one to hear and the heavy quilt lands over his long skinny legs, tangling instantly.
“f*ck.” The man rolls onto his back to stare into the pewter particles of dust floating around his head and turns his head to the cluster of dust streaming from his curtains; like the Northern lights, pretty in the same way that the Aurora Borealis fascinates anyone who gazes upon them, but coin gray and more depressing. The alarm goes off again, screaming into the man’s ear forcing his train of thought back on track and causing his arm to jerk harshly, dropping the phone off the bed. An even louder groan escapes his brittle lips this time.
“It’s too f*cking early for this sh*t already.” The man kicks his legs strongly to get the covers off and tangles them further instead. “God f*cking -” He sits up and rips the blanket off and cringes as the fabric tears loudly. He frees his feet from the faded maroon wool and rolls out of bed. The alarm grows louder every second he ignores it and he grits his teeth, jaw screaming in agony from years of abuse. After scrambling for the obnoxious phone, he slams the off button and throws the phone haphazardly on the bed, it bounces and rolls onto a pillow. Running his charred hands through his oily hair to undo the clumps of hair that were beginning to form, the man walks to the closet off to the right of his bed and strips off yesterday's clothes that he did not mean to fall asleep in, leaving only his boxers on but gives them a good tug anyways after another second of thought. He throws the clothes on the floor and kicks them to the side of the closet meant for dirty clothes with his toes and looks around for what could be considered clean still.
The man digs through the clothes laying on the carpet - laundry basket slouched in the corner unused- and brings a work shirt to his nose. His nose wrinkles slightly at the woody smell of sweat and shrugs to himself; it isn’t anything enough cologne couldn’t cover up. He shrugs on the wrinkled dark green button up that’s almost black with use, pulling on the fabric haphazardly to smooth out the imperfections and steps into a pair of black skinny slacks. He crouches to roll up the polyester fabric by his ankles inside to accommodate his vertical challenge. The man puffs his chest out at the fact that he is forced to wear something so restricting, but apparently his works’ dress code does not call for sweats or jeans. f*ck them.
He passively wraps his waist with the nearest leather belt and lets the buckle hang loosely on his pelvis, noticing the loose leather on the underside falling apart from use. It is not so much of a fashion statement, but more of the fact that he lost more weight – he’ll need a smaller belt soon or cut it shorter to pacify his troubling thoughts and pretend it has fit fine this whole time. He throws a white coat riddled with pink and beige stains on the bed and stalks into the bathroom connected to the end of the closet, and steps on top of disregarded towels and cotton swabs to finish getting ready for work.
He picks up his toothbrush, forgets the toothpaste, scrapes at his teeth, and spits into the sink - grimacing at the splashes of pink mixed in with the thick, flax colored, foamy glob of spit. The clump of spit is rinsed away along with the worry of flossing his teeth as he slams his toothbrush back into the holder and misses. The man licks at his teeth, ignoring the mustard yellow hue lining at his gums that are blistering red in color in favor of hosing his lean body down with his Axe spray. Attempting to wash his face, the water refuses to warm and the man sighs loudly, fogging his mirror with his morning breath and bashes his fist into the countertop, knocking over his Axe bottle. The metal can falling onto the tiled floor elicits an echoing ringing out into stagnant emptiness and reverberates through his skull.
“Just another f*cking problem to deal with - I f*cking hate this place.” The man scrubs at his dirty face with his hands and wipes the excess water off with his shirt, the water spots blending in with the dark fabric. He picks up the deodorant and slams it into the trash realizing it is dried out and empty. “Nothing cologne can’t already cover, I guess.” Pulling a random pack of gum that he found out of his back pocket while getting dressed, the man sticks a piece of mint gum into his mouth and leaves the bathroom letting the door slam close behind him. Throwing his white coat over his shoulder, he pockets his phone and leaves the room as the mess it currently is – bed unmade, clothes lying all over the floor, and a couple pillows strewn around the room.
Stepping over random piles of paper and garbage on the hallway floor without looking, the man walks into the livingroom and heads straight for his kitchen. Throwing open his refrigerator door, grabs a can of Monster, ignoring the bottles of condiments that were knocked over and leaves for his apartment door.
He pockets his keys next to his brittle gum packet - gum so old the paper refuses to come off, having embedded itself into the chewy plastic instead and lets his front door slams shut behind him, his phone blares once more for the sake of it, and he slumps forward after checking the time. He’s officially late for work for the third time this week and he can’t seem to get his sh*t together. He goes to grab his messenger bag to check for his lab notes and notebook - only to realize he left it inside the apartment. He kicks the door and curses loudly, yanking his keys harshly from his pocket, throwing the packet of gum out in the process. He looks down, offended, and goes numb from his brain down to his toes that were still visible. He f*cking forgot to put shoes on.
“Who the f*ck actually does that?” He shoves his way back into his apartment and toes on his work shoes that were flung into the kitchen the night before and flings his bag on his shoulder, cringing at the feel of his bare feet against his shoes. “Me - I f*cking forget to do that.” Finally getting to leave this time, the man rushes away from his apartment door, down the hall and to the stairwell at the end of the breezeway, abandoning the packet of gum on the floor and avoiding his untied shoelaces as he runs down the flights of stairs. “I guess I would trip and kill myself if I just didn’t look down,” he whispers, grabbing the railing and flinging himself around the corner and jumping down the last couple of steps - almost face-planting into the building's exit door but catching himself on the handle instead causing his shoulder to scream in protest.
His phone buzzes wildly several times and he answers it as he pushes the door out and steps into the disgusting atmosphere called sunlight. “What?” His voice deadpans. Checking his watch, he lets out a frustrated sigh, causing his lips to vibrate dramatically.
“You left your door open again; I’ll close it this time, but you should slow down in the morning, or get up on time so you’re not always rushing out.” His neighbor sighs into the phone. The man can basically hear the spit smacking into the phone, and smell the coffee on his neighbor’s breath. The sound of the door closing softly in the background shakes him back to reality and he shrugs as if his neighbor can see him. The neighbor sighs again - louder - and feels the need to go on a tangent again about taking care of his stuff before leaving the apartment.
The man hangs up mid sentence after a rude thanks, deciding the lecture wasn’t necessary. It’s only happened a few times, rarely, but who’s keeping track anyways? He pulls out his drink from his messenger bag and cracks open the aluminum. The gurgle and fizz of the carbonation’s sweet release eases the man into his morning walk to the bus stop. The dopamine that has been released into his blood at the first sip of his drink is org*smic and soothes part of his earlier frustrations. The adult walks to the bus stop in sight, attempting to drink from the can but tripping and tipping the acid down his hands and chest instead. His hand clenches, rushing more acid out of the can and onto his frontside. He holds the can out in front of him and uses his other hand to wipe at the liquid slowly seeping into the linen of his shirt. “Thank god it’s basically black, no one will know.” The man sucks the acid from his hand and from around the rim of the can and continues his short trip to the bus stop . He misses the spot of pink goodness that splashed over his white coat adding to his collection of pink stains as irritation begins to form the longer he remains wet and sticky, until he remembers the spare sweater at work in his office. Hopefully it is relatively clean and not heavy from sweat due to overuse.
As he waits for the bus, he sips from his can, enjoying the way it makes his chest burn and his stomach cramp. He can feel his heart begin to race and finally starts to wake up, despite the growing irritation of the sticky feeling on his skin. Maybe it won’t be so bad today: headphones are all charged up, bought brand new pens for the lab notes, and finally found the best flavor of Monster at the store again - Pacific Punch. The man almost laughs out loud at the intrusive thought that just passed through his mind. When the f*ck has it ever been a good day? His eyes burn into the acidic beige aluminum can, sneering at the happy mermaid on the can because he can, and he spaces out as he ponders his question and why his luck never seems to turn around like it should according to karma.
An arm shoves into the man forcing the Monster can to fall from his grip and spill on the asphalt. He watches as a lake of pink fluids waterfall out of the cans opening, sparkling foam bubbling along the lakes edge from the acid free falls and stirs up the carbonated paradise. Tires roll up to the stop and crushes what was left of the can of monster and the tiny sound of the can exploding under the pressure forces the heartbroken man back to reality as he whips his head back to the person who ran into him and he sees a terrified woman, hands clasped together and shaking against her chest. He stares at her anxious state of being and feels his whole body tense as he bites into the meat of his tongue – the pain grounding his pain and anger momentarily. The sound of tires screeching and air hissing forces the man to look back at the road and growl when he sees the bus he was supposed to get on leave without him on it. How f*cking long was I staring at her? f*ck this sh*t, dude.
“I-I am so s-sorry!” She starts, eyes becoming glassy with tears. “I’m just running late, and I was calling out to you but I don’t think you could hear me. I’m so sorry!” The woman fumbles for a napkin in her small bag, all the while apologizing insistently. He looks down and sees that she was riding along on roller skates and he smirks with his thoughts. That’s actually kind of cool. His phone blasting into the silence snaps him back to reality, along with a manicured hand shoving napkins into his chest. He checks the time and clenches his teeth together. He’s f*cking late. Way late. The captain is going to be pissed this time. He turns down the phone call and looks back up. Pikachu can wait a damn minute. You would think he is going to die soon or something. He needed to leave before f*cking Mr. Candy Cane called him next.
The pissed off man stares at the still shaking women and back at the asphalt where his can of Monster lays flattened and surrounded by a puddle of red. Like a dead body, he grins. He bends to pick up the can and shakes the rest of the acidic liquid out of the can and bends it in half. He straightens up and shoves the can into the shivering woman's chest. Her hands grip onto his quickly as she stares at him confused, eyes misting with unshed tears. The man had to swallow the gag he was about to have looking at the woman’s face as he pushed the can harder into the pale pink skin causing her to almost lose her balance on her skates. He pushes the can even more into her trembling chest after seeing her struggling to stay balanced, and forces her to roll backwards with a playful smirk on his hollow cheeks.
“f*cking forget it, it’s just a drink anyways.” Dropping the can into the woman's arms, the pacified man turns away from her. “Do you mind throwing this away though? I am also late for work, more so now than I was five minutes ago thanks to this.” The hollow man waves at the woman’s retreating body and decides to walk away, leaving the shell-shocked woman in his wake. He spends the next couple minutes of his walk to work grumbling about his morning and the wasted money spent on his drink. He stumbles over massive stones and upturned tree roots as he jogs the way to work - his bad mood worsening when one rock kicking event later leads to immediate searing pain that crawled up the man’s leg from his big toe. He hisses at anyone who thought it was funny, and then hisses at anyone in general for looking in his direction.
The exhausted man walks up to the police building half an hour later and shoves the door open rudely, tumbling through the glass panes and rushing to the elevators. Hopefully he’ll miss seeing the captain and head straight to his office; it would be the best luck so far this morning. The elevator doors open to reveal a perky blonde with a dyed black bolt of lightning on his hair. f*cking Pikachu.
“Hey...” the man groans audibly. He squeezed his way in between the smiling blonde and the elevator door. “Dude, move your ass over. Jesus Kami, you don’t need all this space.” He shoves his shoulders into Kaminari’s and smirks when the blonde man falls into the elevator wall.
The blonde pouts and throws his arm over the man's shoulders after a quick recovery. “Who pissed in your cereal this morning my man? I know you’re normally a grumpy gremlin in the morning before your monster kicks in, but this is on a whole other level of grumpiness.” Denki pokes at his face and crowds his space even more, head on his shoulder. A hand slaps at the fingers poking his face and a deeper frown settles on his face. Kaminari snaps back up and poses like a hero, the sparkles and everything. “Besides! Is that how you should talk to the guy who just saved your tush from the big guy?” Kaminari shakes his phone around, showing the agitated man how he covered for him.
“Dude, I’m not in the mood right now for your happy-go-f*ck-me sh*t right now. I spilled my monster all over myself, I’m sticky, gross, and pissed.” The elevator doors open, and the man steps out quickly. “I need a f*cking triple shot of espresso in a drip bag pronto. Email me if anything happens.” He salutes Denki with two fingers as he heads to his office, doing his damndest to avoid the big man in the space across the floor from him. “Also,” he turns his head towards the nuisance “just say ass like an adult would,” and leaves satisfied at hearing the elevator doors start to close before Denki can say anything more in his defense
“I can do that for you! God only knows I’m not doing anything better with my time!” Denki hollers as he stays in the elevator and waves as the doors close finally, slouching against the cold metal knowing that his friend probably didn’t hear him anyways. The man could not be happier that the computer lab was on a different floor from the biology lab. Less time with loud noises associated with blondes. And the precinct really needs to get that elevator looked at.
The relieved man goes to open the door to the lab when a chill coats his body in a blanket. His fingers clench around the door handle as the body next to him makes itself known. “You are in so much trouble, and I do not think I can save you from this,” Todoroki states comically.
The newly annoyed man shrugs and turns to look at his coworker. “Who actually cares? You guys don’t need anything from me at the moment anyways, or I would have been here on time? Probably would have even slept on the couch again. What’s the big f*cking deal?” He huffs and pulls open the glass door. “And Denki just said he saved my ass anyways,” crossing his arms over his chest, he puffs out his hollowed cheeks till they strain from the stretch.
Todoroki crosses his arms over his chest, mimicking him and stares at him in disbelief. “You have been cursing a lot recently. What is going on? Stress? Fever?” Todoroki rubs his finger into his chin, deep in thought. “Maybe I cursed you somehow? I always knew I was bad luck…” Todoroki sinks into his hand, deep in his intrusive thoughts, when a hand clutches his elbow tightly rips him away from his conspiring.
“I’m fine, just woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.” The man gives up and lets the door go, but it is yanked back open by Todoroki and they take one step into the laboratory. The man drops his satchel to the floor and waits for his idiotic coworker to respond.
“Horny? When is the last time you have seen someone romantically or sexually? I have been told that having sexual intercourse with someone can help relieve feelings of stress. Is this true?” Todoroki beams his mismatched eyes into his and waits for an answer.
The man stops his trek to his office and feels his nose wrinkle in disgust at the thought of a virgin giving him sex advice. “Who told you that, Candy Cane?” The disturbed face contorts into a smirk as Todoroki wedges his foot into the door to hold it open, uncomfortable in the laboratory. “And why the f*ck do you always jump to sex much sooner than you need to?” The scientist questions the two-toned idiot.
“Kaminari did. He’s very smart and I trust him.” Todoroki drops his arms and shoves them into his pockets, position relaxed. The scientist scoffs at the confession and giggles.
“You let Denki - bolts for brains? - tell you anything about sex, when I’m 110% positive he’s still a virgin?” This causes the man to laugh loudly - forgetting his mission of hiding away in his office all day from his captain.
“IZUKU MIDORIYA! YOU WILL SEE ME IN MY OFFICE IMMEDIATELY!” Captain Aizawa calls out and slams his door closed, the blinds rattle dangerously against the window in the door. A few coworkers flinched noticeably, one going as far as crying out at the unexpected noise. Izuku bets his lunch that it was Uraraka.
Izuku lets his shoulders fall in disappointment. “f*ck man, I was hoping to avoid him today. What should I do?” He looks over at his best friend. “You think I could run, or would he stick the Lieutenant on me again?” Todoroki raises an eyebrow and pats his shoulder in a condescending manner while slowly shaking his head.
“I think you should grow up and deal with your tardiness. Or experience sexual intercourse already, if you need a friend to help you out, you know I am always available to be your man of wings,” Todoroki drops his hand and begins to walk away. “Goodbye Midoriya, hopefully I will see you out on the field today.” Izuku glares at his supposed best friend and huffs loudly.
“I will do what I want - when I want, and nobody here can tell me no. What would they do without me anyways?” Izuku lets his laboratory door close sharply behind him as he heads for the captain's office and continues to mumble. “They would all drown and die.” He scratches at a dry spot on his elbow and takes his time to drag his feet to the captain’s office. “And it's a wingman not ‘man of wings’, what a dummy,” Izuku huffs in one breath, pulling on his curls as he crosses the building one cubicle at a time, finally reaching Aizawa’s door.
“Hurry up or I will extend your punishment!” Izuku flinches when he hears Aizawa call out to him from behind his office door. “Ain’t nothing like the present,” Izuku breathes out and gathers up his confidence by the time he reaches for the doorknob. Taking in a shaky breath, he opens the door and is greeted immediately with a hazy storm of disappointment and annoyance.
“Look, I can explain, and I can promise it will be good too!” He tries for the cheerful approach first – beaming smile and all, but the longer he stares into black dead eyes, the more he realizes he is thoroughly f*cked. Izuku blinks his permanent frown back onto his face and settles back into his slouch.
Aizawa flicks his red-rimmed eyes to the chair in front of his desk. “Should I even ask why you were late or just skip straight to the disciplinary part of this conversation?” Without waiting for Izuku to make himself comfortable in the chair, Aizawa starts scribbling words down on a pad of legal paper. Izuku stares at the harsh, ugly mustard color of the paper and thinks about the sandwich he might eat later once he’s out of here.
“Not..pay..ing…atten..tion..” Aizawa dots his page harshly, almost ripping his mustard dyed paper in the process. “Always late, inflated sense of ego… what else? Lazy… irritable… hmm,” Aizawa stopped scribbling illegible words a minute ago and just stared up into myrtle green eyes. “Dress code violations,” Aizawa adds that to his list, breaking eye contact to look back down at his notebook.
“Are you done, yet?” Izuku sighs and glances down at the offending pad of paper and watches the word disrespectful appear seconds later in Aizawa’s chicken scratch he calls handwriting. Izuku finally goes to sit in the office chair. He hasn’t been able to sit all day since waking and he would love to right now.
“No sitting, this will be quick.” Aizawa’s eyes trail Izuku’s body and snap back up to his eyes. “You lost some weight, huh?” The loudest sigh leaves the tired man’s cracked lips and he leans back in his chair. Izuku hates the fact that Aizawa is this perspective and observable. He guesses there is a reason why he is now a captain of his own precinct. “Izuku, what is going on? How can I help?” He rakes his long, bony fingers through his black hair and ties it up quickly into a small bun on the back of his head. A habit even Izuku has picked up on himself but lacks the length of hair to make it look good, so barrettes work for now.
Izuku sits in the chair anyways and crosses his arms. “There isn’t a problem here, I just ran into a problem at the bus stop and ended up having to walk to work instead. It shouldn’t happen again.” He ignores the weight comment – he knows well enough what it means to lose weight at a moment like now. Izuku’s brows crease and he feels his skin prick with sweat. He struggles to take his coat off and once the hot piece of clothing is off his body, throws it on the desk in front of him, covering the ugly paper. “See that pink stain?” Izuku waves his hand at the coat that Aizawa picks up disdainfully. “A woman knocked into me as I was drinking my sh*t and it spilled all over me. So, I had to try to clean myself up first before coming in because I just somehow-” Izuku rolls his eyes before settling them back on his captain, “knew you were going to bitch about my attire.” His hand falls back into his lap as he leans back into the chair.
Aizawa flicks the coat back at him and rubs at his forehead. “Izuku. What aren’t you telling me?” Aizawa scribbles down another note, but this time it’s for ordering another lab coat for Izuku, and bleach. Izuku raises an eyebrow. Bleach would taste nice; he thinks as he crosses one leg over the other.
“There is nothing else to this, Aizawa. I just had a bad morning today, are we not able to have those anymore here?” Izuku grits his teeth, and his knee starts to bounce erratically causing his other foot to bounce, straining the muscle in his ankle. He feels his heartbeat increase and the veins on his wrist start to throb. A dark look crosses Aizawa’s face as he listens to Izuku’s fast breathing, and watches the way the artery in his throat constricts.
“First, you are to refer to me as Captain in this building.” Aizawa sits up in his chair. “Second, what is up with this language and attitude today?” He leans onto his elbows, deepening the hold he has on Izuku with his obsidian coated eyes. “Third, you are allowed to have bad days, bad moods, a bad week, a bad month, or whatever. Feel whatever you want – that’s valid, but do not think for a second that you can come in here and disrespect me or your peers because you woke up on the wrong side of the bed - grow up. Fourth-” Izuku snorts and slaps a hand against his mouth in fear of the noise that he let slip. He can feel the moment his eyes blow wide and feel the moment his blood runs ice cold through his veins. “Fourth, you will be going out on the field today.” Aizawa leans back waiting for sh*t to hit the fan as he watches Izuku’s terrified face morph disgracefully into a look of disbelief and anger.
“The f*ck for?! Er – but my best work is done inside the lab, Captain. Why would you take me away from that and potentially jeopardize the new case?” Izuku uncrosses his legs and sits forward. “I didn’t bring any of my field day clothes, so I wouldn’t be able to go out into the field anyways.” He sits back thinking he’s safe, a smirk already forming on his freckled face.
A wicked smile that matches the unnerving look in Aizawa’s eyes grows steadily across his face. “Oh? But sunlight is so good for the soul – and only God knows how bad your soul needs it.” Aizawa bites out. “You have no choice; you will go out with Todoroki and Uraraka. Todoroki already said he has clothes that you can wear for today that he does not mind lending to you. Asui also restocked your field kit and the van and is ready to leave when you are.” Aizawa stands up and Izuku feels fear pierce his body deeply, the throbbing in his wrists intensified. The captain leaned over Izuku to whisper in his ear. “We will talk later about what I’ve been noticing going on around here,” the captain straightens out his back. Izuku feels his brain turn off, a static buzz encompasses his thoughts, and a ringing resides in his ears. “Now leave, if I find out you did not do as told, we will talk about real consequences then.” Aizawa opens the door for the boy and leaves to inform his detectives of Izuku’s company on the team, leaving Izuku alone to manage his emotions for himself.
Izuku’s chest puffs up and his breathing quickens. He thinks of tipping the captain’s desk over, but digs his nails into his palm instead, letting the pain calm him. He cracks his neck and takes a couple deep breaths to placate his beating heart. He stands and straightens out his clothes, grabs his lab coat, and heads for the door, making sure to let it slam hard. Aizawa glances at him from the lieutenant’s desk and Izuku frowns, knowing that he just told the Lieutenant of Izuku’s departure and to make sure he goes. Kendo shoots him a look that screams behave and Izuku decides to just walk away without responding. He finally gets to escape to his laboratory and relax. He picks up his forgotten satchel and brings his stuff to his office. The shiny Midoriya name plate mocks him as he steps inside.
He drops his bag onto the desk and groans loudly at the clothes that Todoroki must have left for him when he was in Aizawa’s office. He slumps into his chair and decides that a nap would be a better use of his time than a stupid field trip to a crime scene. Not like they will solve it anyways. His eyes barely slid shut when voices suddenly appeared in the laboratory. Yaoyorozu and Iida were discussing some new chemical study that was recently published and Izuku could not be bothered with it.
“Midoriya, darling, would you care for some tea?” Yaoyorozu knocks on his door gently but doesn’t open it.
“No, thank you, last time I could still taste the sodium solution you last used in the beaker when you made tea over the hot plate.” Izuku calls from his desk. He leans back and scrubs at his hair, fingers wetting with the thick oil in his curls. A shower definitely needs to happen soon.
“I am still sorry about that, I thought I had thoroughly washed it, or did I?” She mumbles more to herself than Izuku. “Oh, never mind, that hardly matters anymore,” once again, to herself before clearing her throat. “Well, I made some the normal way this time, help yourself to some if you have a change of heart!” Izuku can hear her quiet footfalls disappear.
Unlike Yaoyorozu, when Iida knocked on his door, he let himself in. “Midoriya, you were supposed to be dressed and ready for departure two minutes ago.” The energetic man waves his arm around, probably in shock at the state of Izuku’s office.
Izuku sends him a dirty look from his chair. “Iida, I’m not going out today. I don’t care what Captain Aizawa said.” Izuku takes Todoroki’s clothes and pushes them off his desk onto the floor into a lump of cotton. An audible gasp is heard from Iida as he rushes out of the room. Izuku smirks to himself and pulls out his laptop from his bag and turns on his work computer. Time to do what he gets paid to, f*ck only knows how much work he has let pile up. “I’ll actually need Asui’s help today, sadly, maybe even Kaminari’s help too.” Izuku sighs as he signs into his computer and begins to plan out his work for the day.
His office door is kicked in, a splinter of wood hitting the wall next to his shoulder, and an angry Kendo storms in. Izuku remains frozen in place and sees an Iida behind the angry Kendo, arms crossed. I’m going to kill him; Izuku thinks as he closes the laptop instead.
“Can I help you?” He says carefully. He bends over and picks up the severed wooden piece and holds it up for Kendo to see. “Also, you’ll be explaining this to the captain, not me.” He flicks the piece of wood on his desk, half tempted to throw it at Kendo herself, but he decides to behave lest he gets his ass kicked.
“Yeah, you can help me. f*cking get your shoes on right now and get your ass out of your office. It f*cking reeks of Axe body spray and stale Funyuns and you look like a wet weasel. Please do everyone a f*cking favor and shower and get some sunlight, jeez.” She slams her freakishly large hand on the desk, rattling the whole thing violently, and leans close to Izuku. Her face scrunches inwards in disgust, “You will be leaving in five minutes and I’ll make it my personal vendetta to kick your ass if you don’t.”
“Fine! Jeez, your point has been made!” Izuku shoves her off his desk and snatches the clothes from the floor. Kendo straightens and smirks proudly. She flicks her ginger hair over her shoulder and sticks her hand on her hip. Izuku rips his shirt off and flings it at Kendo.
“Disgusting!” She balks and Iida gurgles like an old man choking on his oatmeal. “Why are you like this? I better see you in three minutes, Midoriya!” Kendo turns to leave, jabbing a finger into Iida’s chest. “Watch him.” And she disappears around the corner, grinding her teeth together.
Izuku laughs as he grabs Todoroki’s sapphire silk button up and grimaces as the expensive material touches his oily skin. He wraps the tie around his neck, smirking at the thought of suffocating instead, and leaves the rest on the floor. He’s sure Todoroki will forgive him, or just buy another pair of slacks with his daddy’s money. Iida is tomato red as they leave Izuku’s office. He grabs the kit that Asui supposedly got ready for him and checks it quickly. Izuku is particular about the instruments he brings with him and smiles when he notices that Asui got it right. Snatching the kit from the lab’s stainless steel countertop and the van keys from the key holder by the doors, Izuku and Iida leave the lab, glass doors swinging slowly behind them.
“You don’t have to follow me anymore; I swear I’m going.” Izuku snarks at the forensic engineer.
“I believe you; I do. But I will not miss an opportunity to say goodbye to the love of my life.” Iida slaps his chest heroically and goes off about his girlfriend.
Izuku sighs loudly in hopes that the man would shut up but Iida doesn’t, instead he takes it as the invitation to continue his ballad. When they finally reach the lobby, Uraraka saves him from Iida by lightly pecking the forensic engineer’s lips – effectively shutting him up.
“Thank f*cking god, I literally never thought it was going to stop,” Izuku rubs at his tired eyes and feels a cold hand rub at his shoulder. He looks up to see Todoroki holding out a RedBull can and Izuku grimaces. He is a Monster kind of guy, but he’ll take what he can get at the moment.
“Are you ready? They want us at the crime scene pronto to preserve the evidence the right way. Chief was not happy about the destruction of evidence the last time – the whole case got thrown out due to our negligence.” Todoroki fills Izuku in on the information about the crime scene as they head out the parking lot.
Izuku gets a moment to breathe once he gets inside his crime scene bus. He grabs the hand rail and throws himself into the bus, screaming out loud when Asui waves at him from the passenger seat. He settles into the musty van, coughing when the air vents blow out hot air instead of cold air. Izuku cracks the window as he clicks his seatbelt on.
“What are you doing here? I could use your help in the lab today, to be honest.” Izuku waits for his heartbeat to steady from his fright. He kickstarts the van into gear and pulls out of the lot. He probably should wait for Todoroki, but he is not in the mood today, besides he knows the neighborhood that they are heading to anyways.
Asui clicks her seatbelt on and adjusts the creaking vents on her side. “The Cap asked for my assistance, you know I would rather be in the lab, I strongly dislike people.” She sighs and messes with the radio, expecting some good music to come through the speaker.
Izuku smirks and casts a side-glance out his window. He sees Uraraka give him a two-finger salute as their car overtakes his van and he is left to follow Todoroki to the scene. “Only the living ones, right?” Izuku glances at the girl and oddly imagines that she could be a long-lost sibling or cousin with how similar they look.
Asui jabs a finger into her chin, feigning thought. “Well, I don’t mind you either, most days.” She smiles at him and finally settles on a station on the radio. “While I may not appreciate coming out here today, it has been a while since you and I have done something like this together, it’s… refreshing.” Asui finishes her sentence and goes back to looking out the window.
Izuku lets a genuine smile cross his face. As he swerves past dips and holes in the road, he remembers some of the fun he would have going out on calls like this. He can’t seem to remember why he stopped either.
“Yeah, it has. But I wouldn’t get used to it. It is not something I want to get back into.” Izuku follows Todoroki into the neighborhood where the crime took place and follows him onto the side of the street.
He watches Asui shrug and unclick her seatbelt, eyes downcast the entire time. “Yeah, I get that. As long as I can still do my job, I don’t mind either way.” She leaves the van without another word, closing the door gently. That’s what stung Izuku the most, she couldn’t even spare some emotion in response to his coldness. He listens to Asui open the back door of the van and start gathering the tools needed to gather evidence and leave towards the house. He rests his forehead against the steering wheel. Why? Why can’t he just go back to being happy? He used to love spending time with his friends, but now – now he just feels bothered whenever he is around people.
“What’s wrong with me?” Izuku cries to himself. His shoulders slump down into himself, and he takes a shuddering breath, begging his eyes to stay dry. He opens his mouth and forces himself to let out a deep gasp. “Why the f*ck am I about to cry right now? Get it together Izuku.” He bangs his head once more against the steering wheel and sits up, his thumb rubs away the oil stain his skin left on the leather-bound wheel. He knocks back the RedBull Todoroki handed to him before the drive, wipes the drops off his lips, and crushes the can. Tossing the can into the back of the van, Izuku rips the keys out of the van and slams the car door open. He pats the wrinkles in his shirt away as he catches up with the rest. As Izuku reaches the caution tape, he’s fixing his tie, shrugging his CSI jacket on, and checking his pocket for his badge. He barely flashes it at the cop standing guard and casts a dirty look at the nosy neighbors who have started to gather.
“You’re not very good at your job, huh? Are you new, or incompetent?” Izuku breathes harshly at the cop and ducks under the tape, flinging it behind him aggressively. He leaves the cop behind sputtering and pouting, however, he does hear the cop start to aid in clearing the crowd. Izuku smirks to himself as he taps happily up the steps into the house. The smell hit him first – f*ck, Izuku definitely did not miss this part. The smell of dead flesh – rotting meat left out for maggots to raid and devour. The popping and hissing of the slimy maggots fills the silence in Izuku’s mind and directs his attention to the living room. The dead room now, Izuku smiles to himself. The rancid smell burns the nasal cells within his nose and the back of his throat. Bile rises in his chest, yearning to be released and splatter against the carpeted floor. Izuku inhales deeply, fighting the urge to gag and choke and forces his senses to grow accustomed to the smell already. Come on, sensory adaptation, kick in already, he thinks as he wipes the tears from his eyes.
Izuku glances around the crime scene, the body has yet to be removed from the scene, seeing how Izuku hasn’t signed off on its release yet. Izuku starts to notice the pieces of information about the crime around the room. He notes the blood splatter patterns along the walls and floor, he pinpoints the spots that have dried first and the fresher ones. Soon the smell of iron and rust takes over the smell of rotting flesh as Izuku leans into the blood splotches and fixates on the spray patterns and where they ended up. He looks over at the body and the way it lays against the couch, dead weight and all. Izuku marks the blood splatter on the wall and jots his thoughts into his notebook.
He stands and walks over to the body itself, he notes Asui’s position in another room overlooking broken glass on the floor in the kitchen and decides she knows what to look for. Izuku goes about scrapping DNA from the dead man’s fingernails and steadies his hand as he places it in the correct chemical compound. Put it in the wrong one and he’ll lose the evidence and he will have to deal with the chief and he would rather not. Izuku carries on, gathering the evidence he will need in order to continue the case.
Todoroki and Uraraka both ask Izuku questions as they finish their initial sweep of the house, both Detectives noting Izuku’s findings. “I won’t have any of the finer details until I’m back in my lab, but for the most part, I think we have everything we need.” Izuku signs off his forms and motions for the coroners to come in for the body. He scans the body once more as the coroners begin to gather the body. It is only here when Izuku sees a glint of light reflect off a strand of hair on the dead man’s leg.
“Stop!! Don’t move him another inch. Just hold him there.” Izuku cries and he quickly goes for an evidence bag and tweezers. “This might be hair that belongs to the criminal, very important stuff right here.” Izuku breathes gently as he picks up the strand of hair.
He reaches behind him blindly, smacking his body, searching for his evidence bag. He finally snags the bag and brings his tweezers over. Izuku goes to stand up, feeling a spark of joy once more for his job before a body slams into his back. Izuku loses his grip on the tweezers as he goes to steady himself from his fall. He stares down at his hand in shock as he watches the hair disappear into the carpet, effectively camouflaging and disappearing from sight. He grits his teeth and spins on his heel to face the person who bumped into him.
Izuku’s eyes go wide and he actively snarls at the same cop he disciplined earlier as he was walking in. He balls his hands into fists and drops the evidence bag as it is no longer needed. The cop begins to sweat and shake as he slowly backs away from a twitching Izuku who is starting to stand up. He steps back and raises his hands up in defense.
“Do you have any clue what you just did?! Who the f*ck even allowed you inside the crime scene?” Izuku stepped forward and into the cop’s personal space. “That may have been the only piece of evidence that tied the criminal to the crime scene!! And your incompetent self ruined it! Are you proud of yourself? Are you happy now? Look! You finally got some spotlight, any kind of publicity is good publicity, right?!” Izuku jabs his fingers into the cop’s chest, effectively shoving him back a bit. “Wrong! I can ruin your entire career with one phone call!” Izuku slides his phone out of his pocket and shoves the cop once last time for good measure. The cop falls over and onto his ass, tears glistening in his eyes as he watches Izuku scroll through his contacts. “You will find that strand of hair, right now! I don’t care if you have to vacuum it up and dig through the dust. You will find it, or else.” Izuku’s voice drops an octave and takes a dark turn. He waves his phone towards the cop for good measure before pocketing it with a huff and storms out of the place.
“Asui! You will ride back with Todoroki! Tell the others I don’t want to be bothered for the rest of the day.” Izuku storms out of the house with all of his evidence. He grabs Asui’s evidence collection as well and loads the van up. He slams every door possible, but doesn’t feel any of his anger leave his body. The Chief is not going to be happy and he’ll have to deal with it too. He feels his wrists start to throb as his blood continues to boil, his chest starting to tighten and grow heavy. It hurts, but Izuku is used to it now, this pain is not a new pain to him. He doesn’t know how to deal with the anger he is feeling so he collapses into himself. He slams his fist into the steering wheel and grinds his teeth together causing a familiar ache to settle in his jaw. “The one time I begin to enjoy this sh*t again and some dumbass ruins it. That would be my luck,” Izuku whispers to no one.
His phone starts to vibrate and he ignores it. Resting his forehead against the wheel, Izuku feels his blood rush through his head, and feels the throbbing of his heartbeat in his throat and temples. His knuckles ache painfully and he grips the wheel tighter in response. His phone vibrates again and he ignores it again.
He jumps the van into drive and speeds off, not buckling himself in this time. If he dies, at least he’ll get to catch up on some sleep. His phone vibrates and he glances down to see Todoroki’s name pop up and he sends it to voicemail. f*ck all of them for pushing him to go out today.
