Chapter Text
There was once a time when hearing the name 'Yuki Takahashi' would’ve elicited emotions other than annoyance and frustration in Shouta Aizawa. Those days were over. The TV screen burned into his dry eyes, but he didn’t stop watching the interview with the teary eyed woman upon it. Her name, Ayaka Hagiwara, flashed underneath her, and below it the title of 'Victim’s mother'.
“My son is dead. He’ll never come home, never bring back takeout for his siblings with him. He’ll never play piano again, or- o-”
Mrs Hagiwara’s breath hitches, dabbing her face with a tissue as her expression crumples with the overwhelming wave of her emotion. “My son is dead,” she repeats, “and the monster who killed him is spending less time in prison than a man who made a bad decision about drugs. I think it’s absolutely-”
The news interview cuts to black with a quiet squeak as Shouta turns off the television. He sighed as he picked up his phone, calling the man’s number. After two rings, a voice crackled through.
“I know what you must be thinking-”
“I apprehended Haruki Nakamura myself,” Shouta cuts him off. “I know what self-defence looks like. What Nakamura did to Ichirō Hagiwara was not self-defence. Not with those wounds.”
He could almost hear that smug little shrug that Takahashi always did when he got his way through the phone. “Well, the judge would disagree with you. Mr. Nakamura’s only crime was using excessive force than what was necessary to defend himself from Mr. Hagiwara’s random, drug-fueled attack.”
”I know you don’t really believe that.” There’s silence on the other end for just a moment. When Takahashi speaks again, his voice is just slightly softer. Just slightly. “Everyone deserves the right to representation in court, Shouta, and what kind of defense am I if I don’t do the best I can for my client?”
Unlike the silence of just seconds ago, this one has much less tension. Shouta knows better than most about the necessities of life.
“How is this year’s class, Shouta?” Takahashi’s trying to lighten the mood, but the vestiges of Mrs. Hagiwara’s teary eyes that lie behind Shouta’s has made talking to his old friend a rather unpleasant idea at the moment. “They’re as hopeless as they always are, Yuki. We’re doing a rescue training field trip tomorrow, but-”
”You don’t have your hopes up? I know. I’ll call when I can, Shouta. Goodnight.”