[As he steps into the room, Hizashi can probably already see that Aizawa's in approximately the mood he should have expected. He hadn't said anything in the group chat, of course; he'd seen the way Bakugou reacted to Hizashi's message, and he hadn't forgotten the way Bakugou was when he'd run from him at their first meeting, and the last thing he needed was to encourage them to hide and try and play hero without thinking the consequences through, or telling them.
So he's sitting there on his bed, crosslegged, poring over every inch of his capture device by hand, checking the weave carefully with fingers and eyes both as he goes, brows furrowed. He doesn't look up until Hizashi says the word coffee, at which point he pauses, looking up at the blonde with that intense, brooding look on his face.
Yeah, he knows.]
Going to need more than coffee for this problem. But it's a start.
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So he's sitting there on his bed, crosslegged, poring over every inch of his capture device by hand, checking the weave carefully with fingers and eyes both as he goes, brows furrowed. He doesn't look up until Hizashi says the word coffee, at which point he pauses, looking up at the blonde with that intense, brooding look on his face.
Yeah, he knows.]
Going to need more than coffee for this problem. But it's a start.