"That depends, Ashido. Are you?"
The pinkette laughed boisterously as she smacked her arm, pulling herself off the girl with a bright grin, "Hey, what's with the formality all of a sudden? We're all friends here, right?"
"Ah," she smiled, "right. It's been so long, I must have forgotten for a second. How have you been, Mina?"
"Oh, me? I've been great! It's been a crazy few years, but hey, we made it! You know, I used to watch the Gala streams on TV when I was a kid, so it's kind of like a dream come true!" she grinned triumphantly with her hands on her hips, eyes curving the same way they always used to. "But what about you? What's it like being America's most beloved hero?" she cooed, batting her lashes dramatically.
Now it was Doublecross' turn to laugh, an amused smile spreading easily across her lips. "I'm not sure I can claim that title just yet, Mina, but things have been good. It's nice to have a break from everything though."
"Ugh, I know the feeling-"
"Mina! Where'd you go? Don't just run off like that!" a voice called out from beyond the sea of chatter, just loud enough to reach the pair. They glanced over as three familiar faces shuffled into view not far away.
"Guys! Over here!" she shouted, grinning as she quickly caught their attention.
"Naoko!" Uraraka beamed as they reached the two in a moment, "We were just wondering when you'd get here! You look so pretty!"
"Ah, thank you! You all look great too, and it's nice to see you again, Asui, Yaoyorozu."
"We're glad you're here, ribbit," Tsuyu smiled, echoed by the girl beside her as she offered a small wave.
"Hey, hey, there's too many people here: let's move over there!" Mina gestured towards the far side of the ballroom, her voice raised just a bit over the noise.
Doublecross noticed the well-dressed crowd around them had indeed thickened in the few moments they had been idling around, leading to a bit of a shuffle as the new group of five slipped across the busy floor, landing themselves in a more dilute part of the crowd.
"Jeez, is it always this busy?" Mina stuck her tongue out at the streams of bodies passing by.
"It never seems as crowded on TV, ribbit," Tsuyu tilted her head, "Maybe it's the angle?"
"It should get better when everyone starts spreading out, I think. It was like this last year too."
"I still can't believe you got to go last year! It's crazy- we were just out of school!"
"I told you, it was really just luck! And we had already been out of school for a while," Uraraka scratched her head sheepishly, "Anyway! Yaomomo, I heard you had a shift earlier today?"
"Oh, that's right. It wasn't supposed to run so long, actually- I was just going in to finish some paperwork, but there was an emergency nearby and I kind of lost track of time trying to help out, so I ended up having to rush to get here on time!"
"Gosh, you worked a full shift before this? That's cruel," Mina shook her head dramatically, arms crossed over her chest, "Don't worry, once the bar opens, we're gonna be the first ones there! Guaranteed!"
"You sound like an alcoholic, Mina."
"Hey, I'm just trying to help Yaomomo relax! Plus, rumor has it they've got really good stuff!"
"Good thing it doesn't open until later, or else you might not make it to the end of the night, ribbit."
"Well, I at least have to make it until the speakers go up," she grinned, clapping a hand onto Doublecross' shoulder, "No way I'm missing out on this one's deep and infinite wisdom!"
"That's an awful lot of pressure, Mina. I just hope you don't end up too disappointed."
"Oh please, you're gonna crush it- I already know! And I'll be taking notes the whole time, of course!"
The five all laughed at the thought, light and bubbling, cheeks warm for a fleeting moment, before an abrupt shout and a flash of movement broke into their ranks.
"Aha! Told you I'd find them first!" Kaminari grinned as he pointed a victorious finger at Sero running up behind him, "You owe me ten bucks!"
"That's not all of them, dude! There's still like half the class missing, and I'm going to find them first!"
"Hey! Hold on! You got a head start!"
And as quickly as they came, they were gone once more, leaving behind another familiar pair who had been following them just moments ago.
"Hey, you two! Stop running! We can't behave so disruptively during our first Hero's Gala! You're disturbing all the guests and-!"
"They can't hear you, Iida. Not that they would listen even if they could."
"Oh, hey guys!" Uraraka grinned as Iida and Todoroki approached their circle, one frantically scanning the crowd for his two off-leash friends while the other seemed oblivious to his distress.
"Hi," Todoroki nodded.
"Oh, you're all on time! Hello everyone!" Iida greeted, apparently only just noticing them.
"What's up with those two idiots?" Mina glanced in the direction the pair had scurried off in.
"Kaminari and Sero made a childish bet on who could find more of our former classmates first," Iida explained, shaking his head disapprovingly, "They've been causing a ruckus ever since Sero found Todoroki and I."
"Ha!" Mina snorted, "Always on-brand, those two! I guess that's two for Sero, five for Kaminari!"
The girls laughed lightheartedly, and Iida cleared his throat.
"Four."
There was a pause as the chuckles faded, their smiles slipping away into some indecipherable expression as their eyes briefly met each other's. Something wordless passed among them.
"So," Yaoyorozu coughed, "how has work been for you, Todoroki?"
His eyes shifted for a fleeting moment. "The same as usual. Though I did come across an interesting dispute the other day."
"Tell us about it!" Mina piped up almost too quickly.
And he did. He told them about the disturbance call they had received that turned out to be two particularly vocal parakeets having an argument. Everyone laughed, and then someone brought up a different topic, and then the conversation shifted and flowed on, and the strange moment from before was all but forgotten. At least everyone was content to agree it was.
Soon the little group gained another member: Tokoyami, who had apparently been found by Sero and Kaminari- no word on which exactly- before they hastily directed him to join the others in the "Found" corner. He hadn't even managed a greeting before they ran off once again, too immersed in their competition to notice their friend's bewildered expression.
It didn't take long for more and more familiar faces to pop up around them- most with similar stories of how they found the group- and soon their small circle had ballooned into a crowd of its own. Most of their classmates who would be attending were now present, save for a few here or there, and the pseudo-reunion had naturally rearranged itself into a few small hubs, each with a few friends trailing separate bubbling conversations. And at the edge of the bunch, standing a bit apart from the others, floated a quiet pair.
"You don't need to stick around here, you know," Doublecross leaned against the wall, eyes grazing between the chattering masses, "Your friends are right over there. I assume you're still friends, at least?"
Todoroki shifted his weight. "Yes," he nodded faintly, "but I'm fine here."
"Sure, I'm just saying it's alright if you change your mind," she shrugged. "You don't need to worry about me anymore."
Silence fell between them, the emptiness clear even despite the abundance of voices all around: not quite pleasant, not quite unpleasant.
"You look nice."
Her eyes shifted to him, their gazes connecting for a split second before he glanced away. She smiled in amusement, puffing out a faint laugh, "Thanks, you're not so bad yourself. Are you as tall as your dad now?"
"...no, not quite."
"Ah, still rocky about that? Sorry, I assumed things have gotten better, you know, since you work for him and all."
"It's been better, just not great."
"Hm, I can imagine." Her drifting gaze raked idly over the ambling figures, all clad in rich dresses and gleaming jewels, clean suits and shiny shoes. "How's your family these days?"
"Alright, mostly. My mother is living with us now, and my brother got engaged."
"Really? Congratulations on both; that must be exciting."
"I suppose. What about your family?"
"They're good, actually. They're doing really well, everything considered- a lot better than I could have done."
"But you've done really well too, haven't you?"
"In a different way, I think. They worked hard for what they have; I just got lucky."
"I'm not sure it's right to say all of it was luck. You wouldn't be here today if you didn't deserve it."
"Aw, well you're as sweet as ever, I see. Speaking of family though, my dear sister had some good news too. She told me she recently started working at Endeavor's agency," she tilted her head with a pleasant smile. "What a funny coincidence, huh?"
"I suppose so," he nodded, eyes shifting momentarily.
"She was rather nervous about the whole thing, you know- didn't really think she'd get in- but apparently someone in the company pushed her application through. How interesting is that?"
Todoroki nodded, his gaze just missing her own.
"You know, I was wondering why someone would do that, considering they probably didn't know anything about her beyond the whole fiasco from back then, and that wasn't exactly the most positive publicity. Then I figured it really couldn't have been easy to affect the hiring process in such a big agency in the first place," she drummed her fingers thoughtfully. "So hypothetically, it would have to be someone on the inside with influence who also had, say, a secondhand, thirdhand connection with her somehow. You wouldn't happen to know anyone like that, right?"
"A lot of people work for my father," he shook his head, "I'm afraid I don't know all of them very well."
She hummed, nodding as she tucked her hands behind her back, palms pressing against the tiled wall. "That's a shame. If I ever came across that person, I think I'd like to thank them."
A silence lapsed between them once again, softer this time.
"If it did happen the way you say, I'm sure whoever did it saw potential in her. I'm sure they just wanted to give her a fair chance."
Doublecross smiled, and this one reached her eyes. "Yea, I think so too."
Another brief silence, then something unexpected.
"Maybe this is a bit forward, but why do you still go by Naoko?"
"Oh? That came out of nowhere."
"I wasn't sure if I should ask."
"Right, right. Well, if you must know, there's not really a particular reason. They had to give me a new identity anyway, back when they first brought me over there, so they let me pick a name. Not like it really mattered what I chose, so I just went with what was familiar, I guess. I suppose I didn't think much into it at the time- I never thought I'd be back here, really- but if it works, it works," she shrugged.
"I think it suits you well. I'm glad you kept it."
"You say the cutest things, you know that? Honestly, I don't know how you're still single."
Todoroki glanced at her in surprise, his questioning expression meeting her vaguely self-satisfied grin. "How do you know I'm single?"
"Tabloids. Plus Uraraka told me," she shrugged. "She mentioned how she's been- well, maybe I shouldn't tell you that. What I will say is..." she glanced back at the mingling groups of cheery young heroes, nodding towards someone among them, "maybe you should ask her out."
Todoroki followed her gaze, his puzzled expression never shifting even as his eyes landed on the pretty girl in the black dress, "Yaoyorozu?"
"Mhm."
"What do you mean I should ask her out?"
"Oh come on. I know you're dense, but even you have eyes."
"...is that an insult?"
"Hard to say, honestly."
"..."
"Well anyway, just take my word for it," she waved a dismissive hand. "I'm not exactly a mind-reader, but I'd say your chances are pretty good. I'd go for it."
"...you'd go for it, meaning you would ask her out?"
"If I were you, yea."
"But you're not me."
"Astute observation."
"I'm not sure I understand."
"Alright, alright, well, if you really can't see it after all these years, maybe it's just not meant to be," she sighed theatrically, a hand over her heart. "That's too bad. You guys always were cute together."
"I'm still not sure what that means."
"Oh, just forget it- let's talk about something else then," she waved, clearing her throat. "Is your dad ok?"
"...ok as in?"
"As in I can't tell if he's been glaring at you or me for the last ten minutes."
Todoroki glanced over his shoulder in the direction she nodded in. Indeed, halfway across the room, looming nearly a head above anyone else around him, was the ever-intimidating visage of the still-reigning number one, glaring in their direction from behind thin rectangular frames.
"Just ignore him. He'll get over it."
"Get over what?"
"He doesn't particularly like you. I assume it's residual bitterness from when he worked on your case."
"Ah, now that you mention it, I guess I did run into him once or twice back in the day," she hummed, distant, fuzzy memories flashing to mind, "So you're hanging around me to piss him off, huh?"
"Not really, but it's a bonus."
Just as an airy laugh escaped her lips, a resounding voice from the stage called for everyone's attention, quickly bringing a hush over the room as heads turned toward the announcer. Stretching across the far wall was a grandiose stage, and in front of the microphone stood a silver-haired man.
"Good evening, ladies, gentlemen, and honored guests! I hope you're all enjoying yourselves so far. On behalf of everyone here tonight, I'd like to officially welcome you to the Hero's Gala: a celebration of those who make up the foundation of daily life. From heroes to charitable donors to public servants, each and every guest here plays an integral role in preserving peace, in defending justice. Many of you work on the frontlines, risking life and limb, your brave actions adored by those you inspire, big and small, young and old: I'd like to thank you for the bravery you demonstrate each and every day you step out onto the streets, always prepared to put others above yourself. Others of you work hidden from the public eye, diligently operating the complex network of our hero industry, ensuring each piece has the resources they need to serve the way they do: I'd like to thank you for your often thankless work, as it can be all too easy to forget that it takes a village. This evening is a celebration of your dedication, a celebration of your accomplishments, and also an opportunity to make a new friend or two! Tonight is for you to enjoy yourselves in good company, so without further ado, please go ahead and take your seats. We will begin with our scheduled proceedings in just a moment, starting with dinner and a cocktail service. Once again, I welcome you to the Hero's Gala!"
A round of applause echoed as chatter filled the room once more. The crowds began to shift as attendees started towards the arrangement of tables on the far side, closer to the stage. The group of once-classmates followed along amidst the flow, crossing the room in a symphony of clicking heels, many bidding their temporary goodbyes as they soon split off to find their seats.
"See you later then," Doublecross nudged, glancing back at Todoroki.
"Yea, see you," he nodded, the two parting from the group as well.
It didn't take long for Doublecross to find the table holding her name card, located near the center of the frontmost row just as she recalled seeing on the memo. The tan cardstock sat neatly beside an elaborate place setting, the pretty designs matching rather well with the floral centerpiece. The seating arrangement, she had heard, was by agency for the heroes and by industry for all others. No one else from her agency was here, of course, so it came as no surprise when the seats around her were soon occupied by people she didn't recognize. They each greeted her eagerly as they sat down, three men and a woman, each well-dressed with an air of elegance to them.
Dinner service was soon underway; the diligent attending staff swept in and out of the ballroom as the night went on, the warmth of chatter spreading all around as soft music drew from the performers' instruments. Doublecross found her tablemates to be pleasant company, if not a bit too friendly. They were curious about everything, it seemed, from the Federation to the American support industry to what manufacturer she used for her hero costume. Really, they weren't so much interested in her as they were interested in making an influential connection in a foreign market- they were businessmen, and she had dealt with no shortage of their kind before- but she nonetheless smiled and answered their questions as they came. It wasn't overly troublesome; in fact, she found herself having a rather pleasant time.
Much more pleasant than Todoroki, apparently, who- thanks to her oft-drifting attention- she noticed was actively ignoring whatever Endeavor was saying to him, his expression passive in comedic contrast to his father's obviously growing agitation. The other heroes at their table could do nothing but watch the pair anxiously, shoulders tense and upright as they gripped their silverware.
A few tables away sat Mina, Uraraka, and Kaminari, along with two of their other coworkers, all laughing so uncontrollably that they were either hunched over the table or falling off their seats: their faces flushed with laughter, eyes brimming with tears amidst their own ruckus.
Another few tables away saw Kirishima engaged in animated conversation with one of his equally-animated tablemates, the others watching and chatting in lighthearted amusement, laughing as the pair mirrored each other's boundless enthusiasm.
And yet another few tables away sat Bakugo, staring quietly at her.
Doublecross smiled and waved a hand. She watched as his brows pinched, his eyes narrowing for a split second before he retracted his gaze, turning back to the man speaking to him from across the table.
As the night deepened and conversations spun on, the carefully crafted organization of the dinner service loosened as attendees once again shifted about, mingling as they pleased. Some remained in their seats, still woven in conversation, some gathered together in pairs or groups, floating here and there with lively chatter, and some drew towards the temptation of the much-anticipated bar, just opened and already filling with guests. Doublecross remained as she was for a few minutes before politely excusing herself, rising from her seat. She trailed away from the sprawl of tables at the center of the ballroom, making her way towards the adjacent wall where the focus of her attention idled.
Unlike the rest of the room, the lights above the bar were tinted yellow: the difference slight, yet enough to relax the eye just a bit. Fortunately, the seat she wanted was empty, and the clicking of her heels soon came to a stop as she slid onto the velvet barstool.
"A paloma, please," she smiled at the nearest of the three bartenders, receiving a quick nod and a "right away" in return. She watched as he moved fluidly here and there behind the counter- the click of a bottle, the flash of a spoon. "I never thought you were the type to enjoy these kinds of events," she mused, glancing at the man seated next to her.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, she didn't receive a response.
"I got to speak with the others earlier. I was wondering whether or not you'd come. I'm glad I caught you."
"What do you want?" Bakugo asked flatly, not sparing her a glance as he lifted the glass of anonymous brown liquor to his lips.
"I want to talk."
"Go talk to someone else."
"I want to talk to you."
He scoffed, a frown tugging at his already displeased expression, "Then get it over with."
She didn't seem much off-put by his sharp tone, her faint smile still in place as she leaned an elbow against the dark wood counter. "How have you been?"
"Are you serious?"
"What? I want to know."
He tightened his jaw for a second, seeming to bite back whatever words first came to mind, before managing a scarce response. "Fine."
"I hear you've really made a name for yourself. You're popular these days- number 12, was it? "
His brows pinched.
"You should be proud of yourself. It's really impressive, you know- even more so with how long you've been around. You're coming up on your second full year as a hero, right?"
His lips downturned.
"I'm glad to see you're doing so well. You always were determined to reach the top; looks like it won't be much longer now. Congratula-"
"Get to the point," he spat, "What do you really want?"
"I've already told you what I want. I want to talk like regular people. I want to make peace."
"Why? Sure the hell seems like you've been doing just fine over in your half of the world," he sneered, fingers tightening around his glass, "living it up in your ivory tower, high and mighty like nothing can touch you. Sure seems like you've buried your past pretty damn well, so why not just fucking leave it?"
"I haven't buried my past, and I've never tried to. That's why I'm here- I'm trying to make amends-"
"Even the way you fucking talk is patronizing-"
"What do you want me to say?"
"How about an apology? Huh? How about an 'I'm sorry for vanishing five ago without a damn word then reappearing halfway across the world as a new fucking person?'"
"And what was I supposed to do? Stay here and... what? What was left for me?"
"No one knew if you were dead or alive- no one heard a fucking word from you."
"Would you have wanted to hear from me?"
This silenced him, too quick to be anything less than a dull pain in her chest. She pressed her lips together and breathed in deeply.
"Look, whether you believe me or not, I really did come to make amends. I'm not here to argue, and I'm not here to make anyone upset. I don't need you to forgive me or anything, I don't even need you to pretend to, just-" she let out a shallow breath, fingertips white against the cool counter, "I really am happy for you, and you really should be proud of yourself."
Then she stood, turned, and left.
Doublecross held tightly to her manufactured indifference as she retreated back to the relative safety of her designated table. Cowardly, perhaps, but she figured some things couldn't be helped. At least she tried, she comforted herself quietly. It seemed the cruel night still had some amount of fortune left for her, however, as upon reaching her seat, she noticed her tablemates had all dispersed elsewhere in the time she had been gone. She smoothed her dress over as she sat down, and a quiet breath escaped her.
"Hey, are you ok?"
She glanced up to see a concerned Mina shuffling into one of the empty seats beside her, the worry etched across her normally-carefree expression making it clear she had heard at least some part of the not-so-pleasant reunion.
"Ouch, didn't look like that went well," Kaminari mused as he and Sero slid in next to Mina, hardly even managing to sit down before the pinkette harshly batted them away, glaring daggers into their backs until they hastily retreated from sight.
"Don't mind them. They might be older now, but they're still stupid," she huffed, scooting her seat closer as her expression once again softened into concern, "And Bakugo too. He's still as hard-headed as ever."
"Oh, it's alright. It's not like he was really wrong about anything," Doublecross waved dismissively. Her lighthearted smile must not have been too convincing, however, seeing as the other girl's concern didn't seem to lessen.
"Do you want me to kick his ass for you?"
"...I think I'm alright."
"It won't even be that bad- I'll just beat him up a little bit."
"I'm really not sure that would help, Mina, but I appreciate the sentiment."
"Well, fine, but don't even think about what he said! He sucks- forget about him! You're hot and you deserve better!"
Doublecross laughed, genuinely lighthearted this time, "Oh Mina, you always know what to say."
"It's my thing- get with it! Now come on, you don't wanna miss the part where we trash talk our bosses!" she grinned as she pulled the girl up from her chair, making a beeline towards the group of once-classmates gathered halfway across the room.
It was awfully pleasant, speaking with the young heroes. Although their rowdiness was a bit out of place considering their particular setting, Doublecross found it to be an agreeable kind of noise, filled with laughter that was too loud and smiles that were too white. And she pitched in with laughter and chatter and attentive eyes of her own, and the room shimmered like a paved road on a hot day- the kind of feeling you can almost call by name and almost touch and almost know. A bit nostalgic, perhaps, for the days from five years ago.
Soon the stage was once again occupied and attentions were once again called, and soon the attendees diffused back to their seats as the announcer welcomed the first speaker of the night to the adorned podium. The much-anticipated speeches were now underway, the lineup consisting of heroes from the highest sliver of current rankings, CEOs of the most powerful companies on the market, figureheads backed by the reputations of their forefathers, and other such illustrious elites with wealth and status and influence and whose words would surely fetch a high rating from viewers who had none of those things. They spoke of the progress of the hero industry this past year, the achievements of themselves, their peers; they spoke of all the good they had helped create, the lives they had helped better, the people they had protected. They congratulated and thanked their fellows for their hard work and their sacrifices, and they told them to be proud and to endure and to keep on persevering because they make the world a better place. And it was true- as much as any measure of good can ever be true- and the acidic feeling that writhed in her stomach at the blatant lack of narrative complexity was ignored as it often had to be. She smiled and applauded along with the rest of the gilded doves.
A few speakers came and went, their speeches polished, warm, and glittering, before Doublecross quietly excused herself to the restroom.
The hallways behind the ballroom weren't quite as intricately polished as the main areas. The faintly dimmed lights were soothing in a way, but they couldn't compare to the view from the window. Beyond the castle-esque expanse of glass was a sky of diamonds: unusually clear for a city, but not quite enough to stun anyone into silence. Slow-blinking stars faded and reappeared every so often amidst the ink-black void, mimicked rather well by the occasional beacons of planes passing overhead. And shining quite in contrast, below the dark sky, were the all-consuming lights of a restless city, separated a distance away from the window and a world apart from the people behind it. The nightlife here was all but unmatched, or so she had heard, and had her life gone a bit differently, perhaps she would be out there tonight, somewhere loud and neon-lit and bursting with common people and their common pleasures.
Oh, her mind was wandering again.
She often found herself thinking too deeply about these kinds of things after nightfall, and she had long since learned these musings were not to be trusted. Something about the dark and quiet was apt at luring out the too-imaginative, too-introspective side of the human mind: too all-consuming, too fallible. And so she decided she would not consider these musings anymore, and perhaps enjoying the view from the window was, itself, enough.
The sound of footsteps reached her- someone else coming this way to use the bathroom, she presumed- and in an effort to avoid appearing strange in her idling, she straightened herself and turned to complete the momentarily-forgotten journey back to the ballroom. She was stopped, however, by the unexpectedly close figure of someone familiar.
"I didn't come to apologize if that's what you're thinking."
She glanced him over, perhaps searching for some sign of intention, lest it be a disagreeable one. "I suppose you came to jumpscare me instead?"
He snorted- a familiar sound, "I'm not lame enough to be shit at that too."
A lapse of silence. Doublecross couldn't quite tell what it meant or how it was supposed to feel. She raised an eyebrow, noting his slightly lowered gaze. "Well?"
"Well what?"
"Were you going to say something?"
"No."
"Then why'd you come up to me?"
"You came up to me first, so finish what you were saying back then."
She paused, glancing him over once more. "You weren't interested in listening earlier."
"But now I'm here, so just talk."
"How much did you have to drink?"
"What?" he frowned, eyes flicking to hers as she approached him, though they were occupied with scanning over his face, faintly squinted and looking for something.
"Are you dizzy? You should probably sit down if you're feeling sick or anything."
"I'm not drunk."
"How many did you have?"
"Why does it matter?"
"How many?"
"Two."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes-"
"And you're not feeling anything?"
"No-"
"Nothing at all?"
"I'm not fucking drunk! What's your damn problem?"
She seemed to consider him for a moment, arms crossing in front of her. "It's just a little hard to believe."
"And why the hell is that?"
"Because you're talking to me."
"And?"
"And you're being awfully civil."
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"
"It means I would believe you a lot more if you were being an asshole like earlier."
"Listen here, idiot, think what you want- I'm telling you I'm not fucking drunk, so can you get off my ass already?"
"So you're just suddenly not angry at me anymore?"
"I wasn't angry- that-" he hesitated, some sort of uncertainty in his expression she couldn't quite place. "It's not that simple."
"Elaborate."
"You fucking know what I mean."
"I'm not sure I do. You're awfully confusing."
"I'm confusing? Look who's talking."
"That sounds pretty angry to me."
"What's with you? You think the only thing I can do is be angry or something?"
"Well you did just finish chasing me off a second ago. Plus, you were only ever angry at me back then."
"That's a fucking lie and you know it."
"Name one time you were nice to me."
"I was nice to you all the damn time before I thought you were a fucking villain."
"And what about after you found out I wasn't?"
"That's- I fucking told you, it's not that simple."
"You think I don't know that? It's never been simple, but it didn't have to be like that. Even after everything, you never once tried to talk to me, you know."
"You never tried to talk to me either."
The air was suddenly too heavy too quickly, much more so than either of them had really intended. Sincerity didn't come easy for these two, it seemed- perhaps that was, at least in part, how they ended up this way.
"How much of it was real?" Bakugo asked abruptly, eyes once more failing to meet hers, "Back then."
He sounded older than she remembered.
He had changed, she noticed: he was a head taller now, his hair a bit shorter than it used to be. His expression still scrunched in the same way it always had, but his scowls weren't as deep, and his words weren't as sharp. He was quieter than she remembered; he didn't seem to raise his voice as much, nor did his foul language have as much bite to them anymore. He was much too different from the way he was five years ago, but perhaps time does that to people.
"It's hard to say," she breathed a shallow breath, her mind brought back to those faraway events that once consumed her life, yet now only lingered as a vague memory, "I was trying to be someone else, and sometimes it was forced, but sometimes it wasn't. It was… I don't know. At some point, it became… easy, I suppose."
Maybe he understood what she meant, or maybe the hint of guilt on her face appealed to his sympathy, but he nodded nonetheless. "What about the part with everyone else? Was that forced?"
She took a moment to consider her words: not so much the answer itself, but rather how she should explain it. "Maybe some parts- maybe at the beginning, I think. It wasn't really something I was good at- making friends, being carefree. I guess it was… as real as I knew how to be."
And again, he nodded. "And what about, you know, us?"
"Us?" she raised her eyebrows teasingly.
"Shut the fuck up, you know what I mean."
"Aw, but you made it sound so sweet."
"Answer the fucking question before I change my mind."
"Oh, always with the temper," she tsked, shaking her head dramatically. "Well, if you must know, I think it was something similar. Maybe it was just for show in the beginning, but at some point it became real." She tilted her gaze up a bit, as if something up there would give her an answer. "I don't know, but I'm really not that good an actor. I couldn't have put up with you for so long if I didn't like you at all."
"Like me, huh?"
"Hey, don't twist my words- I didn't mean it like that."
"Sure you didn't."
"I think I liked you better when you hated me."
"I never hated you."
"Lie."
"Fine, but that was only when I thought you were evil or whatever."
"So you're saying you missed me the whole time after that?" she cooed, only emboldened as he rolled his eyes, "You're saying you love me again?"
"You fucking suck."
"All I'm hearing is you want me back. It's ok, you can admit it- I won't tell."
"A few years as a hero gave you a big head, huh?"
"Hm, I guess you could say that."
Another transient lull lapsed between them, small smiles lingering on both their faces, yet something about it felt too fragile, too incomplete. Both their eyes were cast slightly away, the distance between them remained unchanged, and the shallow back-and-forth suddenly felt all too pointless.
"What are we supposed to do now?"
Bakugo looked to her once more. He knew she wasn't referring simply to their out-of-place lingering in the empty hallway.
"Who knows."
In the end, they were still two halves of some unnamed thing that had broken years ago.
"Is that it then? Now that we've… made up, do we just part ways?"
"Is that what you want?"
"I don't know. Not really."
"Well what do you want?"
"I don't know, what do you want?"
He remained quiet for a moment, yet his inevitable reply still came. "I don't know."
A tired sigh escaped her lips, her eyes lowering another fraction.
"This sucks."
Doublecross, the Federation's ever-rising star, the one ranked 18th among hundreds of thousands of competitors, the Children's Hero, never attended publicity events. Galas, expos, interviews- she denied them all, save for the select few her agency compelled her to attend. As for why this was: it was complicated. The nature of the Federation leaves its heroes entangled in complex webs of secrecy, the heavy burden of information, of knowledge most people- even heroes- never have the duty to bear. But responsibility must fall to someone, some small collective capable of knowing and keeping and using that knowledge for good, and those under the Federation were among the ones such entrusted. Doublecross had little interest in publicity- most Federation heroes tended to be the same; whether this was a case of causation or correlation, that was a different question- so why did she go so far as to argue with the Director himself when she was told she couldn't attend this Hero's Gala? It wasn't much surprising, considering the Federation's innate mistrust of any foreign collection they didn't already have a seat in; she should have expected they would turn down the invitation as soon as they received it, so why did their quiet golden child nearly get herself suspended on disciplinary leave with how staunchly she demanded to attend this gala?
Well, the reason was simple: the invitation had included a guest list. Doublecross had little interest in publicity, but Naoko understood this might be her last chance to make peace with the people she once loved. Her new life was good, more than she thought possible, perhaps more than she deserved; the one thing it lacked was closure. It was long overdue, really- any longer and she might one day find herself left behind in the abortive sorrows and short-winded elations of men- so she decided this would be her final play, and regardless of the outcome, at least she would be able to move on. At least she would know she tried.
But now, in the moment, standing all but five feet away from the closure she desired most of all, Naoko couldn't help but feel worse. What reconciliation had she been hoping for? Had she thought some miracle of conservation would bring them back to the way they once were? Had she really thought this would make either of them feel better? This, whatever this was, felt too hollow. Perhaps too much had changed, perhaps some things were better left as they were, perhaps time and reality had weathered such great a rift between them that it could no longer be mended, perhaps-
"Hey, can you stop looking so sad?"
Naoko looked up to find him closer now: hardly a foot in front of her, a gentle pinch at her cheek, peering down at her with a somewhat quiet expression.
Yes, he had changed.
In the past he would have glared down at her, his pinch would have been harsher, and there would have been much more fire in the red of his eyes. Was it time or adulthood or hero work that had sanded down his jagged edges? Or was this only transient?
"Sorry," she said.
His gaze drew over her face, noting how something a bit sad pulled at her expression. He wondered if she had changed these past few years. He wondered if she used to be so soft, so contemplative, so careful around people, but he supposed he would never quite know, because he supposed he never quite knew how she was back then. It's true he hadn't spoken to her near the end of things, after the truth came out, and he had no doubt as to why. Anger was one part, yes, but it was the fear that drove him so far away: the kind of fear no one around him ever seemed to admit. It was the fear of mourning someone who was both still alive and never alive, the fear that precious parts of that someone might still be within arms reach, and fear of finding out whether or not they really were, lest the fragile remains of his beloved memories crumble into something he could no longer hold.
He didn't know exactly what had changed his mind, nor exactly when it did, but he remembered seeing her on TV once. It was a few years after news of her first resurfaced in Japan; it was incidental, some news station playing in the background, broadcasting translated coverage of some mission of hers- he couldn't quite remember what. The footage must have come from a helicopter, having been rather grainy and distant, and he only managed to catch the tail end of it all, but what he did see, he remembered. There was a fire- horrible, blazing through a skyscraper in the middle of a city, ranks of firemen dousing the flames from all around, thousands of civilians gathered to stare and gossip and point at the terrible scene, only held back by a wall of men who looked a bit too well-armed to be police. The aerial shot circled the morbid site slowly, and it took the camera a few moments to catch sight of Doublecross. She sat inside the open back of some big commercial truck, the walls of which had shielded her from sight in earlier footage. She sat a foot or two from the edge, the doors wide open on either side, and in her arms, clinging tightly to her form, was a little girl. She must have been crying, he assumed, and Doublecross seemed to be saying something to her, one hand holding her close, the other patting her back rhythmically, all the while her eyes were fixed on the massive hoses angled at the building: one of which, coincidentally, seemed to have much better water pressure than the rest. Bakugo didn't know why he recalled that footage so clearly- it didn't seem to have any inherent significance by any measure- but he did, and it made him wonder what Naoko might be like now. He wondered if she was anything like the way he remembered, he wondered if she was well, and he wondered if, given the chance, they would still get along.
He would find his answer, in some part, in the middle of a lonely hallway. She certainly seemed to be doing well, and they had been getting along... well enough- at least as well as they really could have. As for whether or not she was the same as he remembered, that was more complicated. She wasn't the same as she was back then: she wasn't as smiley or as nice or as talkative, she was more uneven, more teasing, more weathered. She wasn't the same as she was back then, because she wasn't really herself back then, because things were complicated back then. She wasn't the same, and maybe that was alright, because Ito Naoko was better than either of them, but this Naoko deserved to live too.
"What are you staring at?" he asked quietly, noting the way her eyes searched his for... well, he didn't really know what she was looking for.
"What are you staring at?" she countered with a soft tilt of her head.
It was as if neither of them could risk speaking too loudly.
"I asked you first," he shot: a tone that was surely meant to come across firmer than it did.
She seemed to consider him for a moment, her eyes lowering a fraction. "I'd rather not say. It's lame."
"Try me."
"I shouldn't."
"Why not?"
"...fine, but you can't laugh, ok?"
"Just say it already, stupid."
She huffed quietly, lips pressing together for a moment as traces of conflict tugged at her expression. "I was just going to say..." her gaze retracted to the side, the ache of something too old, too honest in her chest, "...I missed you."
Silence fell between them, and then Bakugo snorted.
Her eyes flew up to his in disbelief, "You said you wouldn't laugh! You-" she watched as he smirked down at her, smug and self-satisfied, and in an instant, she was alight with indignant rage, "you- you piece of shit!"
"Hey, I didn't promise anything," Bakugo snickered in amusement as he caught her arm before she could shove him away.
"You fucking suck! I was trying to be genuine for once! And I thought you finally grew up!"
"Come on, you know I didn't mean shit by it. It was kind of cute."
"Never talk to me again!"
"Babe, don't be mad."
"Get away from me! I'm breaking up with you!"
Before their half-playful, half-still-offended struggle could end up hurting either one of them, Bakugo somehow managed to drag her into a sort of hug, then somehow managed to squeeze her tightly enough to stop her from escaping.
It only took a few moments for her to settle into a quieter, mild indignation, her lips drawn faintly downwards as she huffed into the expensive material of his suit jacket.
"Better?"
"You're lucky I'm such a forgiving person," she tsked, arms wrapping around his waist.
He was warm, she noted, and that all-too-nostalgic scent quickly surrounded her, tingling in the back of her nose: something sweet, something comfortable. And all of a sudden, she felt tired. She breathed a quiet breath as her eyes closed, cheek pressing against his chest as she leaned further into him. It had been a long day, figuratively, and a long week, and a long year: all for different reasons, of course, but she would set them all aside for now. Instead, she preferred to hold onto this.
Whatever had happened between them in the past, whatever would or wouldn't happen between them in the future- in that moment, she was at peace.
Maybe this was her closure.
His hands shifted behind her back, and she lifted herself from her momentary rest. She pulled back a bit, glancing up, and was met with the soft gaze of familiar red eyes. She would have said something- something clever, something teasing- but his gaze was too seeing: it didn't feel right. He looked like he wanted to say something too, but he too remained quiet. He looked at her like he loved her, and so she allowed herself to believe it for a fleeting moment, leaning up and pressing her lips to his.
It was half a surprise when a hand rose to splay across the back of her head, sliding down to press against the junction of her neck as the other shifted to grip tightly at her waist. He pulled her closer until she was flush against him, her arms rising to encircle his neck, pulling him down in turn. Her fingers tangled themselves in his hair, finding it soft and prickly and wonderful to the touch. She absentmindedly raked her nails across his scalp, just hard enough to feel him groan directly into her mouth, and her lips curled into a smile against his. He must have taken it as a challenge, it seemed, as his hands instantly dropped lower to grab at her ass. And now it was his turn to smile as she let out a muffled yelp a second before she pulled away, taking an unsuccessful step backward. She slapped his shoulder in protest, glaring up at him incredulously.
"We're in public, pervert."
"You started it, loser."
"At least buy me dinner first."
"Next time," he muttered dismissively, leaning down to capture her lips again.
After a long moment, a nudge on his cheek gently pushed him back.
"Can you move your hands now?" she breathed, her thumb ghosting beneath his eye.
"Move them yourself," he challenged.
"This would be a scandal if it ever got out, you know," she reminded in between soft pecks.
"I guess you'd better keep quiet then."
"That should be easy if we get out of here now."
Bakugo raised an eyebrow, "What are you talking about? Don't you still have a speech to give?"
"They won't notice."
"Like hell they won't."
"They haven't noticed we're gone yet."
"Yes they have, and I'm never gonna hear the end of it from those idiots," he pinched at her cheek once again, "Do you know what kind of shit you'll cause if you don't speak?"
"Aw, but they can't possibly care that much, right?"
"I'm supposed to be the irresponsible one here, stupid."
"Hmm, well I guess I can do it for you."
Bakugo scoffed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes in favor of planting one more kiss on her lips. "We should go back in before they send someone after you."
"But I don't wanna go," she whined, remaining all but ignored as he detangled her arms from him, gripping her shoulders and starting both of them back towards the ballroom.
"Our final speaker tonight is a hero with an incredible story. Her distinguished accomplishments and moving dedication have led her into the hearts of many all across the world. It's difficult to exaggerate the impact she has had in recent years on the American hero industry and well beyond. We're incredibly fortunate to have her here with us tonight, so please join me in welcoming Doublecross!"
The commotion of applause cracked about the room as Doublecross ascended the scarce few steps of the ballroom stage. The same silver-haired announcer smiled warmly as she crossed the expanse, ceding the podium for the last time. She smiled a wordless thanks as she took her place beneath the illuminating spotlight; then, turning to face the audience, the distant, expectant faces, both familiar and unfamiliar, the room quieted around her.
She took a deep breath.