Here we are again after a monstrously long wait. I'd like to say that I'll update soon from now on, but the other fic's still ongoing, so updates for this one are going to be erratic at best, same as until now. I don't intend to abandon it, far from it, but I want to be clear, because the next chapter will probably take ages.
But warnings aside, wow. Thank you so much, everybody who has reviewed these past months. I've never written for a fandom this active before and I didn't expect such a big response. I'm glad you like the story so far! I really wish I could pour all my time into this and give you what you deserve. I'll do what I can!
Lungo
As expected, Kanade was only slightly less horrified by the possibility of having too see Aizawa again than her mother being a target of the mob.
Tokio couldn't blame her. The gangsters were a faraway, entirely foreign territory in their minds, but Aizawa was very real and also a prick. Even Tokio thought it was the more disastrous outcome of the situation, so far, mainly because the police's theory sounded so farfetched.
On the other hand, Kanade took reasonably well to being watched after school. She made it into a game of figuring out when she was being tailed and how, and Tokio suspected she had come up with a spy movie in her head and she was living it to the fullest. Whatever made the situation easier for her.
All in all, it could have been much worse, the arrangement was going to be temporary and her routine hadn't really been affected, but it didn't keep Kanade from sending pity looks at her mom whenever she mentioned she'd gone outside.
For Tokio, things didn't transition so smoothly.
The first obstacle she faced was the desolate state of her kitchen cupboards. Rice, pasta, and chocolate milk, along with a veggie bags in the freezer. There was also instant ramen, curry tablets, and half an onion stashed in the fridge. No tea, because she'd run out of the cheap stuff the day of the accident and had meant to go buy some after work.
She grimaced as she looked at the contents of her purse when she decided that she needed to buy groceries for two.
But more than that, she really didn't want to go shopping with someone watching over her shoulder and judging her while she hunted for bargains.
With a reluctance she hadn't felt since she had to clean the bathroom of the café when a someone with a stomach bug did a number on it (she had been new, and desperate to keep the job, and after three months of throwing up when she got pregnant she had foolishly thought nothing could deter her), she sent a message to Aizawa.
'Can I go grocery shopping alone?'
'I'll be there.'
She dropped on the couch, limp like a wet noodle. The last thing she had expected after their first interaction was having his number a month later. She did not want it. Could life start throwing curveballs at somebody else, please?
Sekiji would be laughing at her if she saw the situation, but she did not want to think about that.
After a too short wait, the bell rang like the day before, only this time she expected the person outside. Otherwise, it was exactly the same. Same thrilled-to-see-you face on both sides, same clothes for both, same awkward silence.
She put on a pair of grey sneakers, grabbed her purse from a hanger, and left the apartment.
"I'm just picking up a few things. The place I go to is kind of far from here. You really don't have to come." She had to plead her case one last time before letting it go.
"The farther it is, the more reason you shouldn't go alone."
She shrugged with no energy to argue and led the way.
The next fifteen minutes were spent in uncomfortable silence. Tokio knew how much time had passed because she'd had nothing more interesting to do than sneak glances at her watch. The temptation to put on her earbuds was strong, but she didn't want to be that rude. Yet.
If she had to guess, she'd say that Aizawa was either wondering why they hadn't taken the bus to the supermarket, or why his employer hated him so much. Possibly both things at once.
She started to make bland apologies, not because she was sorry, rather, to have something to say. "I never take the bus to the store, that's why I said you didn't need to come…" The actual reason was that the bus cost money and she was going to take advantage of her legs for as long as they let her.
"I don't mind."
And the minuscule embers of conversation died before they could set anything on fire.
Like the person who had had the bright idea to make them spend time together.
She gave it another awkward, dispirited try. "Were you at school when I texted you?"
"Yeah."
He didn't elaborate. Tokio got the hint and shut up.
The street was devoid of anything remotely interesting that may have distracted her from the deeply uncomfortable silence. She was hoping for something, any sort of interruption, from a villain attack to a clown in a unicycle, but the goddess of mercy was clearly on vacation or having too much fun at her expense.
Another ten minutes of walking and they reached the park next to the supermarket, which was always empty during school hours, and she couldn't stand it anymore.
"All right, I'm sorry!" She exclaimed, stopping without warning and throwing her hands in the air. Her purse slapped hard against her leg at the sudden gesture. "I'm sorry I flung that stupid Americano at you," Lie. "And I'm sorry that we're now stuck in this ridiculous situation, but would it kill you to talk to me so we can get through this without actively suffering every second we spend together?!"
Aizawa had watched her outburst with wide eyes but an otherwise calm demeanor. His reply matched the latter. "I assumed you didn't want to make conversation."
Tokio blinked several times while she scrambled for a reply. She had tried to talk to him, hadn't she? On the other hand… she supposed it was fair to assume that she felt resentful towards him and the whole situation and would rather ignore him.
And, well, she was resentful. And she wouldn't have chosen to spend her time with him, but if she couldn't help it, the least she could do was at least to make sure that the company wasn't excruciating.
Tokio, then, came to a realization.
Maybe he wasn't hostile, as she had assumed in every single one of their interactions. Maybe he just was this socially awkward.
She shuffled her feet and kicked at the dirt absentmindedly while looking at his face. "Look, I know we'd both rather be doing anything else, but if this is how it has to be, I think it's better to make the best we can of it."
"I agree," he said, and she thought he sounded more relaxed than before. "We don't know how long this is going to take, so the logical thing would be to try to get along."
All right. She could work with that. She didn't feel so relieved by the comment about the case, though. "You aren't any closer to finding a culprit?"
He tilted his head slightly and looked to the side. "We don't even have proof of the crime. If it's the same people after you, the only lead we have is the driver of the crashed car."
"You found out something about him?"
"It's what led me to believe that you were in danger." He looked around discreetly. Though the park was desert, he said, "We can talk somewhere private later."
Tokio noted that he had said me, not us. She guessed that Kawamura hadn't agreed.
"That sounds good. So…" She regarded him cautiously, weighing if the truce she wanted to offer was worth the risk of getting rebuffed. She was swallowing a lot of pride to say this, because she may not have had money, or a career, or two working brain cells on a bad day, but if there was something she wasn't lacking, it was pride. "Can we start from the beginning? I try to forget that you expelled Kanade. You try to forget about the Americano." She extended an open hand towards him. Her left, because the right was more bandages than flesh at the moment. "I'm Tokio Nakajima. Nice to meet you."
He eyed her hand, but he didn't seem wary. He was, however, going over his own considerations, but finally he took her hand and shook it. "Shouta Aizawa. Likewise." He blinked. "I've had worse thrown at me."
The attempt at a lighthearted comment put Tokio at ease for the first time since she had learned of Sekiji's disappearance.
"Is that a challenge?" She asked.
"No," he quickly answered, letting go and stuffing his hand in a pocket.
She swallowed her laughter, and she could have sworn that he wasn't sulking as hard as before. "The supermarket's over there," she pointed in the same direction she started walking in. "It's somewhat far from home, but it's cheap."
"You save money and you get exercise. It's a win-win if you have the time."
"Right?" Tokio's eyes brightened at the unexpected support. "I don't come here that often because I don't have the time, but when I do I like to stock up. And lucky me," she added, smiling sweetly at Aizawa, "today I have an extra pair of arms to help!"
Aizawa didn't look happy about that, but Tokio didn't care. She had already said she intended to make the most out of this.
—
"Wait!"
They were one block away from her apartment when she made a turn for a tea shop.
"Seriously?" He said, eyeing the sign over the front door. "Couldn't you get this at the supermarket?"
"No way," she said, pushing the door with her right forearm, from which hung two plastic bags. "Those teabags are trash." There were another three in her left hand, and she couldn't use her right.
Aizawa followed after her wearily, carrying even more bags than her. She hadn't lied when she said she meant to stock up. It would take a few weeks for the café to be running again, and she had to eat home until then.
The cats had to eat, too. She had bought a few cans of wet food to bring them one of those days.
The man behind the counter smiled, showing them a few missing teeth. He was as old as his shop, which was full to bursting with cans of teas and spices, and barely any light came through the narrow windows near the ceiling.
"Good morning, Nakajima. It's odd to see you here so early. And with company." He stared at her more attentively, pushing down his half-moon glasses, and noticed the bandage around her hand. "Did you get hurt at work?"
"Just a little cut." She lifted her arm along with the bags and waved her hand. "Looks worse than it is."
He pushed the glasses up again. "That's good to hear. Come to pick the usual?"
"Please?" She said.
The man gave her three paper bags that she put with the rest of her groceries, and she paid more for them than what good sense dictated she should, but she could drown the guilt later with beverages.
When they were out, Aizawa asked, "Are you a regular?"
"Sort of. When the budget allows it," she said, and she started a battle with her purse to fish out the keys while not dropping any of the bags. After a failed struggle, Aizawa took the two bags in her right arm to help her out. "Thanks," she said and after picking up the keys and looking up, he looked at him and everything he was carrying. "You're stronger than you look. I need to hire you when I go out shopping."
"I'll pass."
"Shame," she said, shrugging with her right shoulder only. "And I don't think I've got anything I can bribe you with."
At the door of her apartment, it seemed like Aizawa was ready to let the bags down and go, but Tokio stopped him before he did. "Can I offer you a coffee or a tea? I want to hear more about the car accident."
"Sure," he said. "Though it wasn't an accident."
"Intriguing," she said, putting her keys back in her purse and hanging it behind the door. She kicked off her sneakers and picked up from Aizawa the bags she was carrying before, plus some more. Her hand complained, and so did her legs. "Sit wherever you like, though I'm afraid there isn't much space." She laughed awkwardly. "And there isn't a coffee table."
She dragged the groceries to the kitchen, though instead of heading to the living room, Aizawa followed her to leave the last bags on the kitchen counter. She was already in the middle of stuffing some of the food in the fridge and the freezer.
"Thanks," she told him when she was done. She pulled out the three paper bags, picked one, and put the other two inside a cupboard, and then turned on an electric kettle. "Coffee or tea?"
"Depends on how you plan on serving the coffee."
Tokio wasn't sure if that was a joke or a jab. "Not doing so hot on the forgetting front, are we?"
"I'm trying." He was sticking to the terms of the deal, technically.
"Mm-hm." She picked up a box of colorful capsules. "Let's see if I can tell what kind of coffee you like."
He peered at the capsules. "I figured you'd have a more traditional coffee maker."
"It was a present. The coffee is kind of expensive, but everybody says it's good, so I keep it for visits. And these," she picked up a white one with light brown stripes, "are a soft blend with caramel that Kanade drinks with milk sometimes. Doesn't smell like coffee at all, to be honest."
"You don't drink it?"
"I don't like coffee. I could try to hide it with milk, but I'm lactose intolerant. Anyway," she looked up at him, "you look like a black coffee kind of person. A long shot, not an espresso." Like an Americano, maybe. She kept the comment to herself. "With sugar? Sounds about right."
His face didn't indicate if she was correct. "What's the reasoning behind that? Or are you just making it up?"
"Not at all. There's solid logic going on here." She searched in the box until she found a purple capsule. "You seem the type of person that drinks coffee to stay alive, not because you particularly enjoy it." The circles under his eyes seemed to grow darker. An optical illusion for sure. Tokio blamed the fact that the kitchen didn't have any windows. "Shorter shots pack more of a punch, but people who ask for them want to savor the coffee. Longer shots are easier to drink and keep company while doing other things. Like grading tests?" She suggested with a smile.
"And the sugar?"
"Extra energy. Keeps you alert." She put the box back in its place and the purple capsule near the coffee maker. "So? Was I very far off the mark?"
"It's two sugars," he said. "To kill the bitterness."
"Heh." She placed the capsule in the machine, filled the deposit with water, and set a cup under the siphon. "Armchair psychoanalysis is always fun to do."
Click. The machine rumbled to life.
She'd thought he'd leave it at that, but now it was him who seemed to be making an effort to keep the conversation going. "What's the success ratio?"
"I don't keep a tally, but relatively high." She put some tea leaves from the bag she had selected inside a ball infuser, poured water from the kettle in a mug, and submerged the ball in it. She took a sideways glance at the coffee machine and slowed it down so she could stop it in time, before the shot got too long. "Happens when you serve a lot of coffees every day." She stepped aside and gestured at the cup. "Go ahead. I won't touch it. Don't want to be a repeat offender. I'll take out the sugar."
"I appreciate the precaution," he said with a hint of sourness.
Tokio got the sugar bowl along with her mug and a small saucer and followed after Aizawa. They sat at the dinner table, and while she was setting down everything, he asked, "How does it work?"
"Hm?"
"Your quirk."
"Oh." She had just used it without thinking. She had used it during the crash, too, so it was natural he'd be curious. Earlier, she had used it on him. Bad thought. Concentrate on answering. "I look at things and I slow them down while I'm making eye contact."
"Only when you're making eye contact?"
"Yeah. It can be more than one thing at once, but I can't look away. Why, isn't your quirk like that?"
"I can look away." Two sugars, indeed. "The effect wears off when I blink."
"Huh. Now I'm jealous," she said. The green tea she was brewing looked fine already, so she took the ball by the chain and set it on the saucer. "Can you reactivate it right away?"
"No. There's a short refractory period after each use."
"That must suck in fights."
"As long as the enemy doesn't know, it doesn't really come into play." He stared at her with curiosity. "You can reactivate it pretty fast, can't you?"
She fiddled with her mug's handle. "As soon as I focus my eyes."
"Figures," he said. He didn't even sound accusatory, but she was sure he was filing this knowledge for later use. "Your pupils turn clockwise while your quirk activates." He had noticed it during their first meeting, according to Midnight, and he still remembered. Tokio wanted to shrink in her seat. Why had she invited him in? "Does that have any effect?"
"Other than giving myself away? None whatsoever."
He nodded and took a sip of the coffee. "It is good," he said.
Tokio felt some pride at that. She had only pushed a button, but she had been able to tell which blend he'd like.
He brought her out of her thoughts when he went back to business, though. "About the car crash… What do you want to know?"
"I don't know. What can you tell me?"
"Technically, nothing. I am not authorized to disclose information on the case to civilians unless it's on a need-to-know basis."
She threw her head back and stared at the ceiling. A piece of plaster near the light was about to fall. "Great."
"However," he continued, prompting her to look at him, "I think it's fair you knew. Don't tell Kawamura I gave you any details, though."
"Why are you willing to tell me?"
"Because I think you may be able to help us yet to find Sekiji. We're short on leads, and you are the best we have right now. Kawamura is a good inspector, but he's too inflexible. We aren't in a position to refuse help."
The mention of her friend piqued her interest. "Did you work with her for long?"
"Half a year," he said. "Long enough to know she wouldn't run away. You?"
"I've known her for twelve years," she replied. Aizawa seemed surprised to hear that. "Didn't you know?"
"We weren't aware you went that far back."
"I saw her every day since I moved here and she started to work at the station. I just realized a few weeks ago that we didn't even have each other's' numbers. Isn't that odd?" She let out a slow breath through her nose and closed her eyes for a moment. It was painful to think now she had taken her for granted. "It doesn't matter. What can you tell me?"
"Not that much, as things stand. We've identified the man – I won't tell you his name, for obvious reasons – and he was the owner of a small company. He tested positive for alcohol, had a history of gambling and debts."
"That sounds like a suicide attempt to me," she said.
"I would," he agreed, "but you do you know the Shijima group?"
Tokio shook her head.
"They are the cover for the organization Sekiji and I were investigating, and they own half of the pachinko halls in the city. Connect the dots."
"Makes some sense." She rested her elbows on the table and her chin on her hands, looking down at her tea in thought. "I suppose they could make him crash into the store to settle a debt he couldn't pay."
"It's a theory for now. We're trying to look into that connection, but since the incident was officially deemed an accident, we still need to get permission to proceed."
"What, how? Didn't you say that you thought it wasn't an accident?"
"I do, and so does inspector Kawamura, but we have no proof. The rest of the force is operating under the assumption of an accident."
"But you're here. They don't assign escorts on a hunch."
Aizawa drank from his cup and looked like he was thinking back on many of his life choices when he said, "Principal Nedzu."
Ah. So it had been that crafty rodent's idea. He lost a few respect points from Tokio in that moment.
"He must be really pissed at you," she said point blank, and took a sip from her tea. She wasn't going to be delicate about the expulsion if he couldn't be delicate about the Americano.
Aizawa's expression turned into a full-blown grimace, and he looked to the side. "It could have been worse," he said, contradicting his own face. "I knew he'd come up with something sooner or later." Something the way he was looking seemed to catch his attention.
Tokio paid no mind to it. "I suppose you can count yourself lucky that you didn't get fired after so many parents complained."
"I don't know if lucky's the right word," he replied without looking at her. "Is that your daughter?"
Tokio turned her head to the side. He was looking at a picture on a shelf. A small Kanade was sitting on Tokio's knees, and her grandparents sat at each side of the pair.
Tokio smiled unintentionally when she saw it. "Yeah. She was three, we had just moved to Tokyo, and the grandparents came to visit from the countryside."
And the Tokio in the picture was smiling, but looked as tired as the current one. Twenty and too young to be on the receiving end of so many blows.
Then again, that Tokio didn't have lines under her eyes yet, or aching feet, or a banged up hand. She still had the sweeter end of the bargain.
Hold on, girl, she thought. You can take everything the world throws at you, a kid, a twelve-hour shift, a flying car—
"And those are your parents?"
Aizawa's question forced her to leave her thoughts. "My former in-laws. My parents don't want anything to do with us." She shrugged, closing her eyes briefly. "Good riddance, if you ask me."
He hummed and had the sense not to insist on the subject.
"Well," he said after a brief silence, startling Tokio, "I wouldn't want to overstay my welcome. Thanks for the coffee."
She stood up in a hurry to accompany him to the door. It was four steps away, but it was just polite to do so. "No, thank you for the help," she said, surprised that she was being sincere on that account. She alone could carry half of what she had bought at best, and she was injured now. "I'll try not to go out much."
"Tell me whenever you do. If anything happens to you, it falls on me."
She nodded in resignation. "Okay."
She waited until he rode the elevator to close the door.
It hadn't been as disastrous as expected, but she still didn't look forward to have him tagging along everywhere she went.
Good thing she never did anything other than run errands and work, she thought, flopping on the couch. Her tea was half-finished and the groceries were still on the kitchen counter, but they could wait until her body stopped protesting…
—
"Mom? Are you okay?"
Tokio opened her eyes slowly and saw Kanade's face above her.
What the— how many hours—
She sat up and looked through the window. The sky was turning pink. She glared accusingly at her hand. This was the last time she took painkillers for something so silly. Doctors always made a mountain out of a molehill.
"Yeah. Just fell asleep for a while. How was school?"
"We went to a huge jungle gym to practice with our quirks. It was fun!" She looked back with a brusque movement and then back at Tokio, prompting some jingling. "But no wonder you were tired, you bought a lot. How many trips did you make?"
Tokio looked at the table and saw the coffee cup still sitting there. She didn't think Kanade had noticed it, and thought about retrieving it as soon as possible so she didn't ask questions. The less she had to remember Aizawa, the better.
"That's a secret," she replied.
She thought of the small thing in the picture she'd been looking at with Aizawa. Kanade was now much taller and had shorter hair, but the baby fat hadn't still abandoned her face, and Tokio had to resist the urge to pinch her cheeks.
Instead, she announced, "Mom attack!"
Kanade, who was quick on her feet, tried to flee as soon as she guessed her mom's intentions, but Tokio slowed her down before she could escape, lunged at her and dragged her onto the couch with a bear hug.
"You cheated! You— Cheater!"
Kanade was struggling to get out of her grasp, but she was careful not to pull hard at Tokio's right hand, so she couldn't do much.
"Is that what you're gonna tell a villain when they get you?"
"You aren't a villain! It's still cheating!" Kanade made an attempt to shake her wrists, and a very annoying jingle started to come out of them. Tokio heard the glass of the living room cupboard vibrate.
Until she slowed Kanade again, that was. "No quirks of mass-destruction allowed at home, missy."
"Not fair," she said, resistance gone. Tokio patted her head a few times and slipped out of the couch, leaving a defeated Kanade there. "You took advantage of me. I can't use my quirk. I can't get rid of your grip without hurting you. I trusted you," she said dramatically.
Tokio took the mug and the cup from the table while Kanade was distracted whining and took them to the kitchen. "That sounds like I'd make a pretty good villain. Do you think I should change jobs?"
"But then I'd have to catch you."
"I'd catch you first." Cup and mug in sink. Water running. Soap on sponge.
"No way! I know where you live!"
"And I know your weak points." Coffee traces wiped from cup.
"I don't have weak points."
Tokio paused. "I hope Present Mic hasn't found a better coffee shop by the time we reopen," she said with a dreamy sigh. "It would be a shame not to see him again. He's one of my favorite customers. So charming."
Kanade seemed to choke on something back in the living room, and next thing Tokio knew, there was a thunderous sound of bells and a pillow from the couch had come flying through the kitchen door and landed on the shopping bags.
She cackled and Kanade protested. "I DON'T LIKE HIM."
Tokio rinsed the cup, the mug and the saucer, and set them aside to dry.
She smiled.
A perfect crime.