Chapter Text
“Kacchan! Good morning!” The nerd waves to me from across the conference room.
I grunt a response, and make my way to my seat at the ugly oversized table in the center of the room. It’s about 6 am, and way too fucking early for tolerating all these people around me.
“Yo, man, good morning!” Eijirou smiles as I drop in the chair next to him.
“Whatever…why did we have to meet this goddamn early?”
“It seems like they want us ready to go with this mission by lunch, so we’ve got a lot to do to get read in,” Pink Cheeks shrugs.
I look around the room, trying to figure out what kind of mission this could be based on who got the call. Eijirou, and Denki sit on either side of me, the nerd, Cheeks, and Icy Hot take up the chairs across from us, and there are two empty seats at the head of the table. So combat heavy hitters, with rescue experience, who communicate together well, and can handle building damage. This is an organized crime bust.
“Deku…” I grumble, he knows my question already.
“Probably that ring you and I found a few months back…” The nerd puts on his thinking face, touching his hand to his chin, “they seem to be bulking up in recruiting kids again.”
“I arrested two kids yesterday with mushroom tattoos trying to rob a bank, did you say that’s the symbol for them?” Icy Hot mumbles.
“Yeah…” The nerd nods, “I think they call themselves Kinokuza.”
“Fuckin’ stupid ass name.” I roll my eyes.
The door opens at that moment, and in walks Ragdoll, and Pixie Bob. They take their seats at the head of the table, and Ragdoll connects to the screen behind them. The nerd was right, the Kinokuza leaders appear on the screen, along with security footage of a shuttle bus being loaded with kids, no more than 14 or 15 years old.
“Alright, folx! We’re on a time crunch here, so let’s get started!” Ragdoll begins.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Two hours later, the entire group has been read in on this mission. This ring of idiots has been recruiting kids in low-income neighborhoods with the promise of big payouts, training them for petty crimes. The assumption is that they are building a foundation of low-level criminals to stir up shit, and prep them for bigger shit later. Gangs and Yakuza assholes did this shit all the time, but these days, we stop it before it gets there.
We’ve got our marching orders, and the plan is in action, Mandalay and Tiger are already in the field. They found their hideout in an old warehouse compound, and we’re the recon team. Problem is, quirks are unknown, and the compound is in the middle of a major fucking city.
We’re doing an evening raid, so we’ve been ordered to the agency's residential space to sleep until then. Fuckin’ wake me up, just to tell me to go back to fucking sleep.
“Kacchan?” The nerd says quietly behind me as we make our way to the other side of the building.
“What?” I sigh.
“Wanna go burn some energy?” He matches my stride beside me.
I break into a wide grin, he is speaking my language.
We break off from the group and head to the basement training facility. Unsure of what we were dealing with this morning, we’re both already in training gear, and ready to go. We’re well-versed in this shit nowadays, 3 years out of U.A. and in the field over 5 years, be ready for anything.
He is unusually quiet as we walk into the oversized, quirk-proof room, and immediately starts his stretches. We work at the same agency, and he’s my partner, so this is almost a daily occurrence for the two of us. But I’m surprised he’s not mumbling off strategy moves he wants to practice.
The muscles in his arms pull, and flex as he works his shoulders loose. He continued to bulk up as time went on. He’s nowhere near All Might’s size, but could stand toe-to-toe with Vlad King…although, he’s definitely pulls off the muscles better…shut up.
“The fucks wrong with you?” I ask while I start stretching myself.
“Huh?...” He turns to me, and watches me for a fraction of a second, “oh…I’m fine.” He chuckles nervously.
I plop down onto the mat, “Whatever.” I roll my eyes, and grab my foot, stretching into a king pigeon pose. I can stretch further than he can, and remind him often. Denki roped me into a yoga class a few years back, and it stuck. Now I’m the one who drags him to classes 3 days a week because we aren’t fucking quitters.
The nerd packed on muscle to protect his bones, and handle that fucking quirk of his. But I needed to stay lean to be able to fly without using too much sweat, and maneuver in close combat. Between the bulk, and his extra few inches on me, I can almost hide behind him, which annoys the fuck out of me. But he can’t match my speed, and flexibility on the field.
His eyes watch me too long before he starts lower stretches, bending at the waist, and popping his hips. His green curls drop into his eyes, and he blows them back irritably. He got tired and cut the sides last year, and now has a nest of curls on top of an undercut. It suits him.
We stretch a few more minutes in silence before the dam breaks…typical.
“I guess, I’m just a little distracted today…I went out with Shoto and Ochako last night, and you know how they are with their matter-of-fact emotional discussions.” He spits out, walking across the room to take his stance, “I just really didn’t need that shit, but they both forget I’m not like them, I can’t just compartmentalize that way.”
“And what’s got you so fuckin’ distracted?” I take my own stance.
“What?” His eyes glint with this spark, like an explosion in a sea of trees…I like that spark.
“You fuckin’ heard me, nerd. What’s got you so distracted, or whatever?” I roll my eyes again.
“I…uh…I don’t want to talk about it.” He looks like he’s sweating bullets, and when has he ever missed an opportunity to talk my goddamn ear off?
“Then you better get your head in the fuckin’ game, because I’m going to kick your ass.” He’ll tell me eventually, I lunge across the room.
“Gimme all you got, Dynamight.” He smirks as he takes off toward me, and as my hero name leaves his lips, my fist collides with his shoulder, and for a moment there was so much fire in my veins, I thought I discharged my quirk.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Four long rounds later, we both lay panting on the mat. Tied, as usual. He made two rules our 2nd year when we stopped training all his quirks. One - when we spar - we only do even rounds, and two - they can only stop at a tie. I don’t mind too much anymore, but I irritatingly accepted because the only other fucking person who could train with me at full power is Eijirou.
“Good match.” He raised his fist, weakly.
I raised mine, and bumped them together, “not too bad.”
“Have you tried those new support boots yet? I wonder how those shin kicks will feel.” He chuckled.
“Nope. Hatsume said they’ll be ready next week. You’ll be the first face to try them,” I smirk. “I guess the igniter was giving her trouble.”
The easily excitable inventor had made me new combat boots that store my nitroglycerin in compartments on my shins. They activate through a trigger in my gloves, and will detonate on impact. They’ve been combat-ready for weeks, but she insists on them being perfect.
“I can’t wait!” He grins. “I’m hungry…let’s go get food.” He leans forward, and rolls to his feet.
I lay there for a minute, before his impatience moves my feet for me. Blackwhip tendrils haul me up so fast my head spins.
“Hey fucker! I told you to knock that shit off!” I swat the black smoke away.
He giggles, this oversized fucking grizzly giggles, “sorry. I can’t help it sometimes. You look-...I mean it’s fun to irritate you.” He corrects himself, and immediately takes off for the door, “lets go!”
“Don’t fuckin’ tell me what to do! And what exactly do I look like!?” I walk up behind him, and catch up.
“You look like Kacchan,” he shrugs.
“The fuck does that mean?” I punch the elevator button with my finger.
“I dunno. I guess I’m so used to your outbursts, they make me feel better sometimes.” He boards the elevator, and hits the first floor button.
“That makes no fuckin’ sense, you damn idiot.” I cross my arms.
“Maybe not, but if you feel in control enough to have your little bursts of grumpy, then it helps me remember I don’t have to be in fight or flight mode for a minute.” He leans against the wall, looking at his shoes, “you don’t get grumpy like that when there’s something to worry about, and I trust your instincts. It’s like a grounder, I guess.”
“Sounds like bullshit to me,” I mumble. You calm me down too, nerd.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The walk to the ramen shop down the street is full of nerd rambling about the upcoming JP Hero Billboards. I’m too busy thinking about what he said in the elevator to pay any mind, but the sound of his voice is as normal, and calming as a white noise machine to me.
“...and I think we will, you know?” He asks, holding the door open for me to the shop.
“What?” I step through, and head for our usual spot in the back.
“I said, I think we are going to go up a few spots this year, we might even break top 10.” He rolls his eyes at me, and sits in his usual seat.
“Of course we’re going to fuckin’ break top 10! We’re going to land in 8 and 9 this year.” I make eye contact with the chef and nod.
“You think? I’ve been running the numbers, I think conservatively we’re going to land in 11 and 12…maybe 9 and 10 if we can get a few more cases closed out, and you can do an interview or two to boost your pop polling.” The nerd smiles as two oolong teas are sat at our table. “Thank you,” he nods.
“I don’t need to do any more fuckin’ interviews,” I take a swig of my tea, “and that means stop fuckin’ scheduling me for goddamn interviews.”
He smiles, and it’s too goddamn bright. “You have to give people a chance to know you, Kacchan. You’re abrasive in battle. You’ve gotta do the interviews so citizens have faith you can save them.”
“Fuck that. If they can’t see what I can do, and have faith, then I’m not going to save them.” No, I’m not pouting.
“Oh stop pouting. You and I both know you will save them, regardless of what they think of you.” He breaks his chopsticks, and rubs them together to catch splinters.
“Fuck you, I’m not pouting.” I clean my own chopsticks as the bowls are sat down in front of us. The usual Tonkotsu for him, and extra spicy Paitan for me.
“Right…” He draws out with a grin.
“Itadakimasu,” we say together, and start eating.
“I’m not doing any more interviews.” I say after chewing my egg.
“Fine, fine. At least stand with me at the press conference after the bust tonight, get some facetime…” He pops a slice of pork in his mouth, and there is a cluster of crumbs on his lip.
I watch as his tongue slides across his lips, and force myself to snap out of it, “whatever.”
“Thank you, Kacchan. I want you right there with me at the top, you know. I only set those interviews up because I want what you want.” He swirls the broth with his spoon.
“You set those interviews up because you like to fuckin’ piss me off.” I look at him, and force him to do the same.
“It’s a perk,” he shrugs. His eyes glint with that explosive spark again, and my stomach flips…It must be the chili sauce.
“So you and the idiots went out last night?” He may like to irritate me, but I love watching him squirm.
“Yeah. Ochako just made dinner for us, we haven’t gotten together since Ida left for that mission overseas a few months back.” He looks at his bowl again, absently, “I heard from him the other day by the way! He says hi. It sounds like they should be wrapping up in a week or two.”
“And they thought it would be fun to get all sappy and emotional on you?” I cock my head.
“They like to do that a lot.” He rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling, “no big deal. I’m good now.”
“Seemed like it fuckin’ got under your skin earlier.”
“And you’re getting under my skin now.” He rolled his eyes at me.
“Fine, then you little shit. I won’t pretend to care.” I go back to my bowl. My skin is buzzing, and I know it’s not the heat from the ramen. Well that backfired.
We sit in silence and finish our food. After, we thank the chef, and head back to the agency.
The nerd sighs, as we walk down the side road, “sorry.”
“Whatever,” I cross my arms.
“I want to talk to you about it…I just…can’t…” He shoves his hands in his pockets.
“And why the fuck not?”
“I don’t know. I’ve tried, and it just won’t come out.” I can see him rub his palms against the inside of his pockets.
“You have no problem spewing all kinds of shit at me,” he hasn’t avoided talking to me about things for years…Does he want to go to America, or something? Leave the agency?
“I know. I know. And I will, I promise…I just gotta get my head together.” We reach the agency and again, he holds the door open for me. I should hate that…but I don’t.
We’re quiet as we walk to the residence space, both mulling over the conversation. He follows me into one of the rooms, shutting the door behind him. When we are at the agency, we don’t sleep alone, neither one can calm down enough to do so. I don’t sleep at home much either for the same reason.
The room is simple, four beds line the back wall, a couch, TV, and a desk take up the rest of the space. Little pockets of peace in an otherwise chaotic building. I walk over to the couch and take off my boots, while the nerd takes off his own, and his t-shirt revealing his tank underneath and tosses it on the desk.
“Are you thinking of going to America?” I say quietly.
“What?” He turns to me, and I look at him over the back of the couch, “no?...why would I?”
“Because that’s what All Might did…and I figured you’d probably think I’d be pissed about that since I can’t kick your ass in the polls nine thousand kilometers away.”
The nerd crosses the room and puts his hand on the back of the couch, inches from my face, “Kacchan…no,” he starts, “I’m not going anywhere.” His voice is soft, and soothing, and it calms my nerves a little, not that I was concerned or anything.
I scoff, “better fuckin’ not, ain’t no use in being number one if my competition fuckin’ runs off.”
“Someone’s gotta keep you in check.” He smiles at me, and there is a delicateness to his features. His face has remained welcoming, and kind over the years, but after everything we’ve been through, there’s an edge now…a mask he puts up. It’s nice to see behind it sometimes.
“And you think that’s you?” I bark a laugh, “yeah, fuckin’ right.”
“Oh, no, that’s definitely me,” he giggles. “Who else can keep you from blowing up every villain, or friend for that matter, from Kagoshima to Hokkaido when you are bored?”
“I’m not a fuckin’ child, I can take care of myself, asshole.” I stand and head for a bunk.
He crosses the room and flops down in the bed next to mine, and he lays on his back, with his hands tucked under his head. He stares at the ceiling, lost in thought.
“Do you ever want to take a break sometimes though?” His voice sounds distant.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Do you ever wish you could take a break…from taking care of yourself all the time? Let someone else do it for a while?”
“No.” I say flatly.
“Hmmm.” He grunts, knowingly.
“That’s not an option for me…” I offer, “what about you? Is that what you want?”
“I think it would be nice…I mean we have our friends, and I can usually relax a little more when we are all together. But when shit goes south…” He trails off.
“They fuckin’ look at you.” I finished.
“They look at us. They all look at us…so the wheels always have to be turning. The answers have to be close. Where are the exits, how many of us are there, who can do what, who works well together, who is a target right now…”
“You don’t have to fuckin’ do that shit you know. We’re all heroes. Let those fuckers figure their own shit out.”
“What room are Kirishima and Kaminari in right now?” He asks.
“Three doors down, to the right.” I say.
“And how many exits are on the first floor?” He looks at me.
“Fourteen…” I roll my eyes, you should know that.
“See, you do the same fuckin’ shit.” He points at me, “you have an exit strategy at all times, and you are usually just as ready, if not more than me, when we get blindsided.”
“Because I’ve been kidnapped, asshole. It’s called trauma.” I roll my eyes.
“Because you’ve been kidnapped.” He repeats.
I don’t say anything for a minute. Sometimes, I forget…these things have happened to us. I stand up, and push our beds together, and lay back down. I scoot to the middle, and close my eyes.
“There. Now if one moves, the other will know. We know how to get out of these rooms in an instant. This is as relaxed as we’re gonna get…now go the fuck to sleep.”
I see the smile, but pretend to miss the tear, and sniffle. “Okay, Kacchan.”