A Story Worth Forgetting

Part 5

Staring at the two way wall panel, Aizawa watched the quiet vigilante as he stared at the rooms ceiling. For about a month now, he'd only come in regularly at noon sharp. Sat in his self-proclaimed chair and just watched.

He knew Judgment was aware he was there. Every time he opened the door when coming in, the slight twitch of the tall ears nested in his messy hair gave him away. The boy acted like he cared for nothing in the world around him, but in reality he was painfully aware of every little thing that happened. From the squeak of shoes on tile to the groan of the chair when Aizawa sat down.

Leaning forwards, elbows resting on his knees. Aizawa clicked on the speaker. A brief static echoing in both rooms before it fell silent again, bringing both of their attention to each other. "So..." He started, watching as the boys shoulders went taunt. Preparing to steel himself against anything he might have to say. "U.A High has started a new program. Heroic Integration."

He paused, tired eyes trained on the vigilante. Waiting to see any kind of reaction. The only thing he got was the boys head rolling slightly to pin the wall with a disturbingly blank look. "You think I am a hero?" He scoffed, the glint of the muzzle like cage strapped to his face made the words frighteningly true. "I stand for everything you Heroes degrade and throw away. What integration could I possibly do?"

Aizawa couldn't refute him. He had no concept that the boy could be a hero, everything he did. Stood for and lived by, was exactly what the hero society frowned upon. Judgment, the neutral vigilante of Musutafu Japan, lived by his own design. His own rules yet never tried to make others abide by them. He accepted the opinions about him, yet not once did he every change a single thing he did to satisfy those that opposed him.

As far as Aizawa could tell, Judgment was no older than his very own students. Yet, he had the capacity and the strength of a war torn hero. Strength that could only come from years of devastation and quiet suffering. Sighing, he shook his head out of those thoughts.

"I want to make a deal. Neither of us will be getting out of this little prison if the damn rat doesn't get what he wants." He grunted, thoughts of the rat principle more bitter than the coffee he drank that morning. "Enter the program, if you fail and somehow manage to escape I'll just keep chasing you."

The unspoken meaning wasn't lost to either of them, and for once, it finally caught the boys attention. "Go along with the rat, prove him wrong. You get out of these four walls and I can lighten to load on the desk. Deal?"

Silence. That's what followed. It was the empty kind, it was eerie. Not the usual silence Aizawa got from the kid, but the silence before a storm that would destroy everything in its path.

"When do I get out?"