Irrational Problem Child

Irrational Quirk

Mic's point of view.

Mic pulled up, parallel parking smoothly next to the curb by your house, and bounded up to the front door. There was a full trash bag on the front steps. An odd sight- Aizawa didn't usually leave trash bags lying around- but, he WAS still recovering from having his arms broken. Mic hefted the bag up and walked it over to the trashcan on the curb before returning to burst in the front door, per his usual style.

Aizawa was just sitting down on the couch. He looked up at Mic, surprise flickering over his features and shifting into a frown.

"How many times have I told you to knock?"

"Hahaha good one!" Mic plopped down on the couch next to him, then looked around. "Where's Eiko? I need to give her all the biased commentary that I've been holding in the entire sports festival! SHE WAS AMAZING!!"

Aizawa glared at him tiredly.

"Keep your voice down. She's asleep."

"Already? It's not even 8pm."

"It was a long day for her," Aizawa maintained. He started taking off his boots.

Something felt off. Had Aizawa and you had another argument? Mic found himself looking at Aizawa as he thought. Aizawa always took off his boots at the door, but here he was wearing them in the living room. 

As Mic watched, Aizawa tossed his head slightly to flip hair out his face. Since when had he ever minded hair in his face? A disturbing suspicion began to take hold.

"Sho, can you forward me the email from Nezu about the new training policy? I think mine got deleted."

In reality, there was no such email. And Aizawa, a stickler for staying on top of work, would know. Especially if it was about a training policy.

"I can do that," Aizawa sighed tiredly. "I'm going to take a nap now."

He settled down, only for a murderous Mic to pounce on him, hands at his throat.

"Mic-" Aizawa sputtered.

"Katsumi," Mic hissed, looking directly into Aizawa's eyes. "What did you do?"

Aizawa stilled, dropping all pretenses.

The cold laugh that followed sounded wrong, coming from Aizawa's throat. It pained Mic. He wanted Katsumi to get the *!#$ away, but at if there was any chance of getting information from him...

"Present Mic," Katsumi said through Aizawa "I had my doubts, but you're smarter than you look."

"Does All for One share that opinion?" Mic demanded.

Aizawa looked surprised, then chuckled.

"Nice try," he said pityingly "shooting in the dark, hoping for me to confirm who I'm working with."

"We know more than you think," Mic countered. "You were supposed to wait at least another six months. That's how the drug works, isn't it? What changed?"

Aizawa's eyes widened, then narrowed calculatingly.

"You wouldn't be bothering to dig for information if you had it all. Goodbye... hero. See you later."

Aizawa went limp, then opened his eyes as himself.

"Mic?" he looked around. Mic turned and ran up the stairs. He barged into your room. You really were asleep, breathing peacefully. He came to your side and shook your shoulder gently. No reaction. A drugged sleep then. He looked around for clues of what had happened, found none, and pounded back down the stairs to see what Aizawa remembered.