Chapter Text
Mirai Sasaki was a hero first, man second. His greatest strength as a hero came not from his precognition, but his control. A control that, lately, has been slipping. As a general rule, Sasaki only used his quirk for his hero work. He only had one shot at it a day, so to waste it on something personal would not only be unprofessional, but could put himself and the people he had sworn to protect at risk should an emergency arise. And yet, he wanted to use it on you.
Sasaki had no problem with you when you first started as his assistant. Sure, there were times you needed to be reminded to smile, and his jokes didn't always land with you (which was on you-- his delivery was flawless), but everyone had those days. Midnight was partially to blame. Her recent jokes about his tickle torture machine being used for foreplay had been fresh in his mind the first time you needed it to be reminded to smile. Sasaki had dismissed her comments easily enough. There was nothing inherently sexual about tickling someone into submission with their hands bound above their head, helpless and vulnerable. Their hysterical laughter turning into gasps and pants as they struggled for air. Thighs clamped tightly together as they desperately tried to avoid wetting themselves, begging for release.
Then he put you in those cuffs, saw you writhe against the machine, and he understood. Seeing you thrash about, pulling against your restraints, your shirt coming untucked from your waistband as you struggled, Sasaki felt... something. He turned the machine off in a panic the moment he diagnosed what he was feeling. Kayama was right, and he was a fool.
He hadn't put anyone in the machine since. He considered taking it down and retiring it all together, but it served as an effective warning that his office would be full of smiles. Still, he couldn't look at it the same way-- couldn't look at you the same way. He barely looked at you at all, actually. Each time he did, his mind went to unprofessional places. He made a point not to treat you any differently from his other employees. He bought flowers. Not for you. For the office. It just happened that the logical place for them was on the front desk-- your desk. The treats in the break room you liked weren't for you, but for the team.
Technically, Sasaki never instated a rule against dating subordinates. He managed all of his employees directly, and never thought about any of them romantically, so the thought never occurred to him to implement one. Asking out his assistant might be legal, but he morally couldn't put you in a position where you might fear for your livelihood. The right thing to do would have been to get you a job somewhere else, wait until you were settled, and then make a move... but then you'd be so far away.
Sasaki couldn't stay in this limbo between courting and ignoring you forever. He had a few options. He could ignore the feelings, keeping you at arms length just to keep in his life. He could throw all sense of propriety aside and ask you directly, risk losing you completely and forcing him to find a new assistant. So he decided. If four-o-clock hit and he hadn't used his quirk for the day, he'd use it on you. If he saw your future together, it was fate, morality and propriety be damned. If you ended up with someone else, he would be a man step aside.
---
You winced at the pounding in your head, forcing yourself to smile despite the pain. You couldn't let anyone see you frown in Sir Nighteye's Hero Agency. The last time you did, you were stuck in that HR nightmare of a contraption until you nearly wet yourself in front of Sir Nighteye himself. You flushed at the memory. You needed to get out, and this new influx of emails only confirmed it: Job applications, for your position. He had caught you looking down once and had been acting strangely ever since. Now you know it's because he had been sneaking around trying to replace you. You double checked Mr. Sasaki's schedule before confirming the interview times for this first batch of applicants. You should have seen it coming, but it still hurt to have to help pick out your own replacement. You saw their resumes. Many of them had a better education and more experience than you. They'd be a much better fit at the agency. They probably wouldn't have to pretend to be happy.
You checked the time. Four-o-clock. One more hour and you'd be free to go home and cry yourself to sleep. You paused. No. You still had to pick up groceries, reach out to your doctor about these headaches and starting your medication again, and figure out how to respectfully decline this last arranged marriage meeting. Somehow, you doubted “Sorry, I but I still have a thing for my boss even though he wants to fire me” was going to cut it. You added 'apply for jobs' to your mental to-do list.
Mr. Sasaki walked in. You plastered your best smile on your face to greet him. “Good evening, sir!” You would play ignorant. If he wanted to be sneaky, so could you.
“Good evening, [Y/N]. How are you?”
“I'm doing well... Sir?” He was looking you in the eye for the first time since the tickle incident. It felt strange somehow. Serious.
He cleared his throat, pulling a business card from the inner pocket of his blazer. “Make sure to update Edgeshot's contact information before you leave.”
Your fingers brushed against his as you accepted the card. “Right away, sir.”
He looked in your eyes, and your future played out in his mind like a strip of film: The stranger harassing you on the train ride home, stepping over the candidacy pictures of potential suitors someone slipped under your door, answering a phone call and arguing until you hung up and threw the phone against the wall. The tears. The bathtub. And then...
Nothing.
“My office. Now.”
Icy dread washed over you as he closed the door behind you. Just how much had he seen? You stood at attention under his unnerving gaze. The man was as handsome as he was intimidating.
“Tell me what's going on.”
You floundered for an answer. “Just... work.” His grip on your arm tightened. You winced. He had to know you were lying-- he clearly saw something in your future he didn't like. You had to give him something. “I went ahead and scheduled the interviews for the assistant position next week. Thank you for my time here. I'm sorry we weren't a better fit.”
Oh.
He let go of your arm. He only put out that help wanted ad to be prepared in case you left the agency. He should have considered your reaction when you found out. Stupid. So incredibly stupid. He was usually so thorough. Sasaki sat at his desk. He needed to think, and he couldn't do that standing right next to you. When he saw your timeline cut short, he never thought he might have contributed to it. He could change the future. Fix it. He'd seen it done before.
“I'm not firing you.”
“It's okay. I didn't take it personally,” you lied, reminding yourself to smile. Always smile.
You clearly didn't believe him, but he couldn't bring himself to tell you why he was looking for a new assistant. Now wasn't the time for a love confession. How could today have gone so wrong? He needed a plan.
“What are your plans for this evening?”
Was he asking you to stay late? You shrugged. “Running errands. Groceries. Dinner.” File for unemployment. “Normal stuff.”
He nodded, threading his fingers together. It didn't sound like you were planning on ending things tonight, but he wasn't an expert. His hero work centered on fighting external threats, like villains or natural disasters, not civilians who were a danger to themselves. He should let an expert take over, but could he really entrust you to a stranger? Could he convince you to talk to a crisis center when you couldn't admit anything was wrong? Would the shame push you over that edge? And why were you still smiling ?
He needed to buy time, and for that, you wouldn't be leaving his sight. He looked into your future again, but it remained unchanged. The last push seemed to be that phone call, but he couldn't make out who it was from. It didn't matter. “Give me your phone.”
His tone brokered no argument, and you handed it over without hesitation. His thumb brushed over the screen. It was cracked. Surely he was paying you enough to have it repaired or replaced outright. Sasaki frowned, considering. No phone meant no phone call. No phone call meant no tears.
He snapped it in half.
“What the hell!?” You rushed to take the broken pieces from him, but he held them tighter.
“I'll buy you a new one.”
“That's not the point! It wasn't yours!”
“I need you to work overtime tonight. You are not to leave this building, is that understood?”
Fate could be rewritten. Sasaki would ensure you made it through tonight, even if you ended up hating him for it.