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Assistant: Title: The Art Of Deception
        Author: bleachscentedcandle bleachscentedcandle 
        Chapter: 3/4 
        Summary: Shūji Aizawa was dead. Or, at least that’s what the police and his parents thought. Shota? Not so much. It never made sense to him. The note left on his nightstand didn’t seem to be written by him, but the blood on it.. it was all his.Just a few miles from their house, they found the same blood stains on the grass—it was his. It should make sense, right?8 years pass without a trace of his brother, and Shota just assumes him to be dead. He couldn’t be more wrong. Because, Mister Dazai Osamu shows up in his life.…Shūji Aizawa became Dazai Osamu when he was fourteen years old, working beneath the newly boss of the port mafia. He had left his family behind without a second thought because he just couldn’t seem to die, and this doctor would help him. Right?Years later, when Dazai left the Port Mafia and joined the ADA, he buried the last of Shūji in a ditch, content to never dig it up again.But, when he and his partner, Kunikida, are given an assignment to infiltrate U.A. and work undercover as teachers, he’s forced to face the demons he tried so desperately to bury.—Or, Kunizai become U.A. teachers & Dazai is Aizawa’s ‘dead’ brother! Ft. Yosano as RG’s assistant.
            
            the mission is given, and they are more than ready. meanwhile we get a bit of a dive into dazai’s past as shūji, and shota now after all these years.cw: mentions of a past suicide attempt / aftermath of a suicide, self-harm mentions. tell me if i missed any!
        Contents: Chapter 3: familiarity
    

    

        
          
          
            dazai has a small moment of psychosis, and then he and kunikida meet the rest of the teachers! and of course, shota has a heart attack when he sees dazai.cw: self-harm mentions & a brief scene of self harming when not in the right mind (bruising oneself), hallucinations, a bit of quirk(less) discrimination, MORI MENTION YUCK YUCK EW !!
          
        

      
        
          
          (See the end of the chapter for  notes.)
          
      
  

  
  
    
    
  “Come on, Dazai wake up.” The brunette lays sprawled out across the king sized bed, tangled up in the blankets—the sheets quite literally wrapped around his body, restraining him.

  He only groans and flails as Kunikida shakes his shoulders, turning onto his stomach with minimal effort and all-but slamming his face into his pillow. The sun peaks out through the open blinds, lighting up the room with its flair.

  Osamu didn’t fall asleep easily, so when he did it was a miracle he could stay asleep throughout the entirety of the night. How dare Kunikida wake him up like this?

  He can feel the brush of wind as Kunikida picks up a pillow before it hits him, and he doesn’t bother dodging, only letting out a weak whine, rolling onto his back. He lightly tugs at his bandages, opening his eyes and staring up at the ceiling with the one functioning eye he has.

  Kunikida only watches him for a moment longer before shoving something into his hands. “Go get in the shower, you stink. I washed and dried your clothes this morning, so you can just put them back on.” Dazai lifts his arm, tilting his head so he could get a whiff of himself. Kunikida was just being dramatic! He didn’t smell 
  that
   bad.

  He blinks slowly, a smug smile spreading against his pale skin. “Oh, Kunikida is just the perfect house husband isn’t he?”

  This time he’s able to dodge the pillow that goes flinging towards him, and he laughs freely as he sits up and gets out of bed. Honestly, he was thankful. Dazai wasn’t lazy, he just simply didn’t have the energy to do a lot—so his clothes likely hadn’t been washed in days, maybe even a week. He knows he should take proper care of his coat, for Odasaku’s sake, but some days he just can’t bring himself to do so.

  When he stretches, there’s a sickening crack of his bones and an ache in his joints that was always faintly there, just amplified when he stretched. He doesn’t miss how Kunikida flinches when he hears it, but the other man doesn’t say anything about it, just turning and walking out the room. 

  Dazai sighs, grabbing the clothes and a pair of underwear from his still unpacked suitcase, as well as a fresh roll of bandages. He had bought many for this mission, as he typically used up a roll in just a few days. There was 8 packs of 10, as he wasn’t quite sure how long this mission would last, but he knew it wouldn’t be enough regardless.

  Walking out of the room he doesn’t see Kunikida, but he does hear rustling in the kitchen. Heading straight to the bathroom he locks himself inside, turning to the shower and turning it on. Instinctively, he twists it to the hottest setting—one that would possibly burn his skin upon stepping under.

  He slowly takes off his sleepwear, avoiding eye contact with the mirror as the clothes fall off his body. He keeps his gaze on the wall adjacent to the door, watching the steam from the shower seep into the bathroom. He had practiced taking off his bandages without looking, so that he wouldn’t have to see the monstrosity that was his skin each time he showered.

  The scars were just distant memories of his past failures, his mistakes, and the devil himself. He avoids brushing against the skin, but if he were to do so he’s find the raised scars, pink that stayed hidden beneath his bandages. 

  When he finishes his arms he pulls off his leg and neck bandages, getting in the shower without a second thought. 

  The scalding water hitting and burning his skin is a good wake up, and despite hating pain so much he finds that he’s numb to the heat. 
  Thanks a lot, Mori. 

  His vision blurs as he sluggishly reaches for a washcloth and the soap bottle, pouring it over the fabric and keeping his gaze on the marble wall of the shower as he runs it over his mangled and scarred skin.

  It hurts. Not the water, he can’t even feel that—but his scars. He knows how old they are, and he knows that they shouldn’t be hurting but the pain is phantom and endless. He’s learned to live with it though, building up his tolerance as if it were for spice (and his spice tolerance is actually, in fact, the lowest it could possibly be—so what does that even mean?).

  He makes the mistake of looking down at his arms in his daze, catching sight of the scars. His breath catches in his throat, and once he sees he just 
  can’t 
  look away, it’s too difficult. Because his arms have multiple eyes scattered across his skin, and they have eyes too. His eyes widen and he immediately slams his wrist into the shower wall.

  When he pulls it back, the eyes are bleeding, though they are still staring at him—unblinking. It’s uncanny. Like they know everything about him just from a single look. Or, multiple looks in this case. He lets out a sound that is similar to a strangled whimper of pure distress, a sound that he hadn’t heard from himself in a while, proceeding to slam his arm into the wall over and over again. 

  Again, again, again. Until when he pulls back, his arm is red, raw, and bleeding. The eyes are crushed down, and when he looks at the floor he can see bits of flesh on the white ground in the shower, what he assumes to be bits of the eyes he had just crushed into mere chunks of red. If he were in his right mind, he’d notice the knocking on the door and the yelling from Kunikida, telling him to ‘hurry up.’ But, all he can hear is ringing in his ears.

  His heart rate slows, and as the steam blinds him, he feels at peace. But, when he gets a good look again he finds that the flesh on the bathroom floor is gone, and the eyes were never there. All that’s left is his arm that is beginning to bruise black and purple. 

  He purses his lips and his face hardens, aggressively shutting off the shower, water falling from his hair onto the floor—water that looks red as it drips off of his forever devil-touched, tainted body.
 
  After an hour, they were out of the apartment, in the car and on their way to U.A. When Dazai had gotten out of the shower, his skin was bright red. He had aggressively dried himself and begin the meticulous process of bandaging himself, one he went through every morning without fail. 

  When he left the bathroom, Kunikida had begun to question him. What the banging in the bathroom was, and why he took so long. But, he just put on his usual smile that never quite reached his eyes, telling him that he had just dropped something and not to worry about it. He had also mentioned that he had to bandage his arms and neck before the two of them left. After that, Kunikida didn’t push for an answer from him anymore. 

  Earlier in their partnership, Kunikida had questioned why he had so many bandages on him, and the only answer he had gotten was that it was some sort of ‘fashion statement.’ But that just wasn’t the truth, and he’s sure the blonde knew that as well. Kunikida knew it was a touchy subject, so he never asked him why he wore them or what was under again.

  Dazai’s seat is laid back fully, his legs stretched out, feet on the dashboard as Kunikida drove. He could drive if he wanted to, but Kunikida refused to let him—something about breaking the law. So what if he didn’t have his license? He was still a d@mn good driver! Most of the time.

  
    … Sometimes.
  

  When he looks at the blonde from the corner of his left eye, finding that the man isn’t looking at him—but his jaw is clenched and his eyebrows are furrowed, as if he’s annoyed. Dazai laughs silently, turning his head to look out the window, watching the trees pass them by with a blank expression.

  “Heyy, Kunikida,” He whines, and the man beside him twitches. “You look like you’d be a good teacher? What were you again? A math teacher?” When the man murmurs out acknowledgment, something he takes as a yes, he lets out a sound similar to an ‘oof.’ “Yikes.. I feel bad for you. That’s like—trauma in itself, ya know? And now you’re gonna be a math teacher 
  again
  ?”

  The blonde sighs, shaking his head. “It wasn’t bad. I loved my students, they were great.” Dazai raises his brow, and Kunikida elbows him in the gut, causing the man to lurch forward and hold his stomach. “Ow! What was that for?!”

  Kunikida doesn’t respond, and Dazai just huffs and pouts. “Well that was your last hit of the day, because once we get to U.A. you can’t do any of that nonsense anymore!” He crosses his arms and closes his eyes, leaning his head back against the seat.

  He could tell they were getting closer to U.A., he didn’t even have to look to know. He hadn’t been here before, but the pathway he studied was familiar. Just one more turn and—

  Dazai opens his eyes, and when he looks back out the window the hero school was in his line of vision. It was so much bigger than it looked in the pictures, but of course that was expected. Things weren’t always as they seemed. 

  He hums quietly and looks over at Kunikida who, despite himself, is staring at the school in awe. The brunette just smirks and watches as the man pulls up to the parking garage. He slows to a stop as they reach the gate and he rolls down his window, grabbing his badge and showing it to the man at the gate. The man raises his brow and looks over at Dazai. 

  Dazai just sighs and reaches into his pocket, pulling out the badge as well and flashing it to him, almost impatiently. After a moment, the gate lifts and they drive into the level. There were two levels, and Kunikida had chosen to park on the lowest one. 

  When the car was parked, he turns it off, and Dazai sits up. Fixing his seat back to normal, he clips his badge onto his lanyard and places it around his neck, on top of where the bandages fit snug against his skin. 

  Before he can reach for the doorknob, the car doors lock and he blinks slowly. “Ah.. Kunikida, don’t tell me you’re about to try and kidnap me? You know, I don’t mind—but you could’ve asked me what I was into first.” He looks over at the blonde, who looks at him with exasperation in his expression.

  “Please remember that we are going to be talking to our new colleagues. Be on your best behavior.” Dazai goes to speak but Kunikida holds his finger up. “And do 
  not
   spout your suicide nonsense, only god knows how they would react.”

  The brunette frowns. He was right, in some way. They’d probably look at him with horror, what the Armed Detective Agency had done when he made his first ‘joke’ (except Ranpo, he just laughed), or they would try and get him into counseling or something. He grew sick at just the thought of it.

  So, Dazai just nods, placing his hand on Kunikida’s shoulder, making a display of the ring on his hand with a bright smile. “You got it Kuni! I won’t let you down.” He saluted the man with his other hand and the blonde only murmurs something beneath his breath about this being a mistake before the doors unlocked.

  Shota has been awake for 12 hours. He has tried to sleep a bit before his patrol at a quarter past ten. He had only managed 3 hours of disturbed rest before he found that he could no longer stay asleep. And his patrol was nothing short of a nightmare. 

  He had apprehended 5 criminals, but a larger one managed to body slam him into the ground and good god that had hurt.

  The man sighs as he waits at the coffee machine, calloused hands slipping beneath his shirt and rubbing at his back where he knows a bruise is beginning to form. 

  It was still relatively early in the morning, so he knew he was one of the first people here. Along with Hizashi and the principal himself of course. When the coffee machine beeps he takes his black mug off of it, white words printed in build on the side—Best Cat Dad.

  Hizashi had gotten it for him as one of his birthday presents years ago, before they got married, and he had called it stupid at first. But now, he finds himself using it nearly everyday. The blonde had accused him of being a sap, to which Shota just rolled his at, hiding a smile by taking a sip of his coffee.

  He adds one sugar and a splash of creamer to his coffee, just how he liked it, before making his way to one of the smaller tables in the teachers lounge. He sits down just as the door opens and Nemuri walks in. He gives her a weak nod, to which she waves before he turns away from her.

  Picking up his mug, he takes a long sip of the drink, finding the slight sweetness to how bitter it was comforting. He can feel himself slowly waking, but definitely not enough to be able to hold out the whole day. He was due for at least a 4 hour nap.

  He sees his mug down on the table, pulling files out of his bag that he had set down on the ground beside his chair. They were files of each student that had sent in the application for U.A. with information regarding their quirks and other skills.

  There was a good variety this year, and even if some of these kids didn’t get into this class, he’s sure they’ll have a good time at U.A. Unless they got expelled that is, but Shota would just have to see if the kids he’d get in 1-A were promising enough to keep around. 

  
    Explosions, Half Hot & Cold, Basic Strength Enhancements, Gravity Control, Frog… 
  

  Frog? How interesting.

  This new school year would come with new talent, as well as new teachers, the man had learned. One of them being the number one hero. He’s unsure why Nezu would hire him, after all it would bring a lot more unwanted attention and publicity to the school.

  But, the rodent had said that it would be okay, and it was nothing they wouldn’t be able to handle. 

  And with All Might came two new teachers. He only remembered their surnames because of how uncommon they were— Dazai and Kunikida. He’d never heard them before. Alongside these teachers, Recovery Girl seemed to have gotten herself a new assistant. A talented woman named Yosano with some sort of healing quirk. As lovely as she may be, he’s making it his goal to not see her too much throughout the school year while working. Kunikida was supposed to be the brand new mathematics teacher, taking Ectoplasm’s place so that he could focus on teaching science.

  The man had actually expressed how relieved it made him, having to only grade papers for one subject now. That had made Shota chuckle a bit. 

  His quirk was something he hadn’t seen before. Sure, most quirks were unique but they always led back to one concept that Shota had seen over and over during his time as a hero. But this was different. Any object he wrote in his notebook would come to life, which was intriguing to say the least, and it could be extremely helpful to them. He wondered what the limitations were.

  The third new teacher however, was one that had intrigued Aizawa. He was quirkless. When Nezu told everyone, there had been a collective uproar in the teachers lounge.
 
  
    “Now now, let’s calm down. With the new laws when it comes to the quirked and quirkless that are now set in place, it’d be good reputation for U.A. to show that we do not discriminate about quirks or the lack of.” Nezu had said, waving his paws.
  

  
    Kayama speaks up, tilting her head. “What would he be teaching? I thought that we were all filled up for the school year.” Nezu smiles excitedly upon hearing this, hopping up from his chair onto the table.
  

  
    “We’re introducing a new course this year that Mister Dazai will be teaching—Villain Psychology. It’ll be a deep dive into the way villains act, and how to understand them, per se.” 
  

  
    She nods, sitting back down in her chair.
  

  
    Shota had raised his brow as Kan stood up, placing his hands on the table. “This is ridiculous! The people will treat us look fools when they figure it out!” He hisses and the black haired man’s brow twitched. 
  

  
    His behavior was beginning to anger him, his mind flashing with images of his younger brother. His quirkless younger brother, who had taken his own life at just fourteen years old because of how cruel this world had been to him. It wasn’t fair, he hadn’t deserved such a thing, and Shota blamed himself everyday for not noticing sooner despite being out of the house when the events occurred.
  

  
    He watched as Nezu frowned at the man, “This isn’t how a hero should be acting, Vlad King.” 
    Took the words right out of my mouth,
     He thought.
  

  
    There’s a brief silence in the room before Kan grumbles something under his breath, sitting back down. Kayama looks worried, and Hizashi looks a bit irritated—likely at Kan’s outburst rather than the fact that a quirkless man had been accepted to teach at U.A.
  

  
    Most teachers were pro-heroes as well, but those two weren’t. Shota couldn’t help but wonder how the public would react to that. 
  

  
    Shota sighed, tuning the rest of the conversation out and slumping back against his chair, closing his eyes. He doesn’t notice as Hizashi scoots closer to him and takes his hand in his beneath the table. Their fingers intertwine, and he spends the rest of the meeting forcing white noise into his mind.
  
 
  He internally groans, pinching the bridge of his nose and picking up his mug, taking another sip. He hardly reacts as the rest of the teachers file into the room. All might wouldn’t be here today, called out on a mission elsewhere in Japan.

  That’s just great, isn’t it? 
  Chatter starts up in the small space, and Shota leans back in the chair, tilting his head up to stare at the ceiling, crossing his arms. He’d only been there an hour, but he already wanted to go home.

  The faces that came in were all familiar, leading him to believe that the two new teachers hadn’t arrived yet. Technically, it wasn’t required for them to come, but it would be helpful considering that the two would need to locate their classrooms.

  Asides from one of them being quirkless, Shota didn’t care much for the new arrivals. He just hoped that they weren’t annoying and obnoxious. God knows he wouldn’t be able to handle another Hizashi. As much as he loves him, the blonde can be a bit loud at times (most of the time).

  He looks over where Hizashi is standing next to Ishiyama at the coffee machine, a bright smile on his face. He looked like he was having a better time than Shota. Nonetheless— the sight brings a smile to his otherwise stoic face, though seen by nobody because of the capture weapon pulled up just below his nose.

  The door opening catches his attention and he looks over, a man he doesn’t seem to recognize walking in. He has long dirty blonde hair that’s pulled into a ponytail, and the man glances around the room. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, nodding slowly before turning back to the door.

  Suddenly his face goes from neutral to annoyed, “Da—Osamu—! Come here!” First name basis? That’s interesting. 

  He disappears out into the hallway once again and the rest of the teachers watch as the doors shut. There’s a silence in the room, just waiting, before the door is hauled open again.

  The man—Kunikida, he knows now—walks back into the room, his arm stretched out behind him and his fist wrapped around something. A persons collar. “Ow ow! Gentle, Doppo!” 

  When Shota looks up to the newcomer, who would be Dazai, he freezes in his spot. A feeling of dread waters into his veins, and his hand tightens around his mug until he can feel it giving way. But, he doesn’t remove his hand, he can’t. 

  Because when he walks into the room, the feeling of familiarity hits him like a train going at full speed, knocking the wind out of him. His eyes widen, and Dazai seems to feel his eyes on him, because he looks over and meets his gaze head on.

  His throat goes dry, and it’s like everyone else had evaporated from the room in that moment—leaving only those two.

  When he remembers to breathe he tugs his capture tool down, his breath catching in his throat. Dazai’s expression shows nothing out of the ordinary, no surprise, no recognition. To him, Shota is just a stranger.

  
    But to Shota ..
  

  There’s brief hesitation, and he doesn’t see Hizashi looking over at him with a worried gaze. His brows pinch together, and he swallows.

  “Shūji?” 

  The room goes silent, and all eyes are on Shota, but for once he doesn’t seem to care. He has become an underground hero because he wanted to be out of the spotlight, but now it was like that didn’t matter—because everyone was looking at him. 

  Dazai’s face stays the same, but then his brows furrow and a confused expression makes its way onto his face. He looks behind himself, as if Shota was talking to someone else, then when he finds nobody there he looks back at the hero.

  
    “Sorry— who’s that?”
  

  
  

    
      
        
        
          shota: shūji?dazai: … yeah no! i have NO clue who that is !!!*is shūji*anyway these chapters are kinda underwhelming !! i’m so sorry. here in the next chapter or two we’ll be moving onto the entrance exam though <3 hope you guys at least enjoyed the chapter.i think after i post the 5th chapter, im gonna get into the schedule of updating once or twice a week. but i just wanna give yall a taste to see if you want to keep reading before we get into the schedule!hope y’all are having a good day x 💋 i sure am! we just got out for summer break today >o<'
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