An Eventful Evening Part 1
The city blurred into the background as Uraraka leapt to the station platform and down the stairs. Her little conversation with her boss left her fifteen minutes late when she needed to be early. She was clean, but her apartment was still a mess. There was no way the date would end there tonight, but if it did, she wanted to be ready. But it wouldn't. She was sure it wouldn't. Maybe he'd be late, and she'd have time to sweep.
She turned the corner at speed while she dug through her purse. Her fingers rifled through her effects as she searched out the key. She kept moving, looking down into the tiny bag that seemed to become an impossible maze anytime she needed something quick. In her search she missed the man standing in front of her and plowed right into him.
Down they went, the man flat on his back and her right on top of him. Her nose squished into his chest, prompting her to wriggle her face free. She managed to clear the tie from her across the bridge of her nose and looked at her victim. Izzy looked right back at her.
So close! Just breath. Just breath.
The pair of them sat there paralyzed reminding themselves to breath. All around them passing strangers pondered the strange couple felt it appropriate to lay together on a sidewalk. Young people were so strange these days.
"Hchm. Ochaco, I u-uh…are you okay?"
"Mmmhmm."
She paused, feeling his ribs expand and contract under her.
"Then we should umm…probably stand up?"
She remembered she was on the floor. She stood, inching her way back to her feet and brushing herself off. Izzy stood beside her, shaking off his sleeves and readjusting his tie.
"Bad start to a date, huh?" she asked.
"I don't know. Could be worse. Could be raining."
He looked at her and searched her face for a hint of recognition. His eyes dropped when he found none.
"You know, Mel Brooks? Young Frankenstein?"
"Who?"
He groaned internally. Half the small talk he had outside of heroes and music was movie quotes. This date was going to crash hard.
Why didn't I listen to Molly? Why didn't I try to date when Miss Josephine ordered me to get out more? You've got almost no practice and she's going to see that. Idiot!
"Izzy?"
"Hmmm?" he turned to her.
"You're mumbling under your breath."
"Sorry," he rubbed the back of his neck. He had to take the initiative and get this date back on the right track.
"I like your sweater. You look great."
Nice move.
"Uhh thanks. I kind of feel under dressed though," she pointed to him, standing there in a tailored suit and tie.
Shit move. Izzy winced. She thumbed his jacket and looked down at his attire.
"I don't have much variety in the way of clothing."
"On no," she gestured to his clothes. "You look great. I just feel a little underdressed. I'll go upstairs and find something else."
"Wait," he reached for her arm and held her there. She looked at him, brows furrowed, trying to figure out what he could have in mind. Izzy lifted his head, judging the temperature of the coming night. He slipped his jacket from his shoulders and placed it over Uraraka's. He pulled his tie off and stuffed it into his back pocket. Feeling something was missing, he undid his top buttons and stepped back, arms wide to his date, doing a quick turn.
"Better?" he waited for her response.
Uraraka stifled a small giggle at the goof she was going out with, and after a breath, took his arm.
"Better," she said. They began their walk down the street.
Eight blocks from her building and tucked away from one of the main thoroughfares in that district, the sounds and smells of street carts and small hole-in-the-wall eateries poured out and into the air. Vibrant lights of yellow, blue, and purple danced from the signs and strings above, beckoning would be diners to follow their eyes and noses to the tasty creations the street had to offer.
Food and vendors from all corners of the world vied for position and dollars as Indian curries and samosas did battle with teriyaki skewers, roasting lamb with Greek spices, and ever-present frying chicken in a war for olfactory supremacy. The overwhelming amount and variety of food made her stomach rumble, and mouth water. For this reason alone, she always avoided Fourth Street.
"I don't think I've seen so many different styles of food in one place since coming back."
"This is the old immigrant quarter of the city. A lot of these stalls and restaurants still have connections to the old import businesses that brought in ingredients from their home."
"You seem to like this street. Do you come her often?"
"No," she watched as a little girl begged her mother for extra French fries. The girl took the golden sticks and devoured them, hugging the woman's leg, and then running off to a man who was trying to pay for their food.
"I haven't been here in years. We came here after school one day in our final year. It was wonderful."
"Why wait so long to come back?"
It was a good question. Her friends had no time for trips to Fourth Street once they'd started their careers. Mina was busy being a celebrity teen mom and hero. Tsu worked on the coast and cared more about shore leave and seeing her family whenever she was back in town. As for Momo, she could get any food she wanted delivered to her and Shoto's place. Why would she ever need to seek it out in such a crowded and loud public place? The thought of Iida taking her here was right out of the question. Many of these places held contacts with the import companies, like she said. Many of those business had contacts with organized crime. Her uptight ex was principled in everything, especially where he spent his family's money.
The more she thought about it, Uraraka began to realize just how much she and her friends were denying themselves even these simple pleasures. She smiled at Izzy and leaned into his arm.
"It just never felt like the right time or place for it, I guess."
"I'm happy we're here then."
"Me too."
They continued down the street. They debated what to eat, agreeing that it was best to see what the street had to offer before making any decisions.
They passed each stall, Uraraka asking about each kind of dish they might have, Izzy going over what he knew about them. Streets like this appeared to be common in America, according to Izzy.
"New Orleans is a food city. A party city first and foremost, but all life and love flow from the kitchen down there. Even the music can be found playing through almost every kitchen in town."
"That sounds incredible. Why would ever want to leave."
Izzy tried to hide it, but she could see his eyes dart away, and his arm tensed under her hand.
"No, they have chicken and waffles?" he began pulling them toward a large shop with a flashy neon sign.
A line stretched out the door and wrapped around the block. American tourists and other visitors tapped their feet and huffed as the workers inside plated up a disk of waffle under a fried bit of chicken. Those that had been served stood around separated from the line, gushing about how nice it was to find something from home. The hope and excitement in her date's eyes faded to nothing as he looked over the plate. He began walking towards the front of the door.
"Izzy, we can't just cut the line. It's rude."
"Hold on, Ochaco. We're not cutting. I just want to see something," he said, and they stood next to the entrance. Uraraka felt the heat rise in her as the people in line looked at them. She swore she could here the mumbles and protests. She began to tug on Izzy's arm, hoping they could get out of them before the collective gazes of one hundred angry customers melted her on the spot. An employee who was trying to keep the line organized walked up to the both of them.
"Excuse me you two, but you'll have to wait your turn like everybody else."
She wanted to go. Needed to go. She tugged again on Izzy's arm.
"Come on, Izzy. We'll just wait in line. It won't be that bad."
"No. No I don't think we will be waiting in line."
The look of confusion on the employee's face didn't have time to flip to anger. Izzy flashed a large smile and dipped his head to the man.
"Sorry for the confusion, and best of luck keeping this place open. Goodbye," and with that, he waived and began leading her away from the small shop. She followed on his arm, looking back at the confused man and the people waiting in line.
"What the hell was that Izzy?"
"There's got to be another one around here somewhere. I can smell it."
"Smell what?"
She wanted to stop and get clarification, but before could plant her feet, Izzy found what he was looking for, and they were off like a shot.
He took her hand and weaved them in and out of the crowd, leading them to an out of the way counter and set of chairs under a fading red awning. A tired but sturdy looking man wiped down the bar with a rag, focusing on his work as Izzy approached.
"We're not a bar. We serve food. And that's it."
Uraraka watched as Izzy scanned the bar top and the back bar, finding what he was looking for, and took a seat. Nervous, she took the barstool next to him.
"Food's what we're after. Two orders, please."
The man smiled and nodded, turning around, and putting a small glass bottle down between them filled with a red liquid. Uraraka studied it, trying to figure out what the condiment could be.
Behind the bar the man dropped several whole chicken wings into a deep fryer and loaded a waffle maker with a thick batter. He looked at them both, both, and nodded towards the soda fountain.
"Two please, with a little room in them."
The old man smirked, but filled Izzy's order, pouring two Cokes into tall red glasses over ice, and leaving a little room at the top. He set the drinks in front of them, eyed Izzy, and turned around.
"May I?" he asked her. She couldn't figure out his request, but nodded. His hand lifted part of his jacket, his hand brushing against her side as he retrieved a small flask from the lining pocket. He popped open the flask, tipping in some of the brown liquid into his cup. He then held the flask up to her.
"Sure," she held up the cup. She knew this was technically illegal, but it seemed harmless, and the owner didn't seem to mind. Izzy poured the liquor into her cup, and mixed it in with a straw the old man handed him. He tucked the flask back into his shirt pocket and took a drink himself. The old man chuckled.
"You're a smooth operator kid. Very smooth."
Neither of them got the chance to speak before the man was pulling the chicken from the fryer and placing them onto two pillowy waffles. He set the plates down in front of them, drizzling a bead of syrup over the set up and finishing off the dish with a dusting of powdered sugar. She looked at the strange combination of salty chicken and sweet waffles and looked at Izzy.
"Trust me," he said. She folded her arms.
"Trust him," the old man repeated her date's words.
Relenting and resigning herself to her fate, Uraraka picked up the knife and fork that had been placed beside her place, cut into the chicken with a satisfying CRUNCH, and speared a severed bit of waffle.
She brought the fork to her mouth, took a breath, and put the food in her mouth. The instant melding of sweet and salty, crunchy, and fluffy, and the richness of the syrup and fat exploded across her palate and made her knees quake. She plunged her fork into another part of the wing, hit a bone, and discarded the utensil. She picked up the fried wing, taking bites of chicken and interspersing it with slices of waffle. Izzy watched all of this while he picked up the red bottle and began to shake its contents onto the chicken. The old man watched, causing Uraraka to take stock of what and animal she was being in front of this poor man.
"I'm…uh sorry. It's just so good."
"First time, huh? I won't hold it against you, kid," he turned away and went into the small back room, leaving her alone with Izzy.
"Here," he held out a piece of the chicken with the red sauce on it. "Give it a try with this."
She obliged, taking the wing into her hand and biting through the crispy skin, surprised with the spicy tang of the hot sauce woke up the delicious combination the chicken and waffles already made in her mouth. She handed the wing back to Izzy, debated it, and then licked her fingers.
"It's just soooo good. But I have to ask, why this place and not the one with the line?"
"This," he held up the red bottle and nodded his head towards the line. "Chicken joints are a dime a dozen back home, and most of them are pretty decent, however," he lifted the bottle. "if you don't see these little red bottles, run. The place is a sham if they don't carry hot sauce."
"Where'd you learn that?"
"My master. She always viewed eating well as something vital," he finished his words and took another bite. She watched as he chewed slowly, like he was pulling a memory to the front of his mind connected through that bit of food.
"She sounds like she was something special. What was she like?"
"Strong, intimidating, but kind. She knew what she wanted, and often figured out what it would take to get it. She taught me what was important to figure out where that line lay for me, you know? What I was willing to do, and what I couldn't come back from."
Uraraka took another bite and considered something that had been egging her on at the back of her mind. Izzy watched her contemplation, and sighed.
"I'm sorry. I'm killing the mood."
"It's not that," she said and took a deep drink.
"Okay then, should we move on?"
"Yes! Yes that sounds perfect!"
She downed the rest of her drink, stood up too fast, and stumbled a little. Izzy held her steady, placed his money and a note on the bar, and guided her back into the street. As nice as it felt for him to hold her, the thought in her head kept chipping away, demanding to come forward.
A few blocks away the screams and laughter of the amusement park called them into its glow. The sun's last rays were gone, surrendering the area to the dark of the night and the displays of lights the illuminated the attractions and guests. Uraraka gazed upon the rides, following the fast cars of the roller coaster as it pushed through each turn and the slow rise of the Ferris wheel two hundred feet above their heads.
Flashes off light went off around them but given their location she thought nothing of it. It was probably families getting vacation pictures. Nothing to worry about.
They walked down the Midway, games flanking them on either side and barkers calling out to would be fools to try their luck and feats of skill and wit. Everyone knew how rigged carnival games were, and still scores of young men and women lined up at these games for pride, to show off, or both. In front of the balloon pop game, one insistent barker left his stall and approached Izzy.
"What do you say, strong fella. Show off those muscles and win an All Might plushie for the little lady! It'll only take you three popped balloons, and I'll even give you the first shot free," the barker held out a baseball. Behind the barker, the game lay with it's large plushies pinned to a top rail to tantalize passing children and would-be Romeos. The balloons sat in various states of inflation in front of nails at their back. It was a sucker's game if there ever was one.
"I'm good. I don't think we'll-"
"If I play, how many free throws do I get?"
"You? Why my dear you can have a whole round free. I'll even let your boyfriend add to whatever throws you make. A steal of a deal if you ask me."
"I don't think we're that ye-"
"We'll do it," she said. She pulled and confused Izzy to the thrower's line, handing him the extra baseballs and watching as the barker leaned against the edge of his booth, hand on the till anticipating Izzy's cash once this sweet little woman whiffed on her throws.
Uraraka studied the balloons, picked her target, and launched. The baseball zipped from her hand and into yellow balloon that was reduced to yellow shrapnel. The barker leaned forward, reevaluating these suckers.
Izzy handed her a second ball, and another balloon ripped through a green balloon, sticking to the nail behind it. The barker came from behind the stall.
"Say now, no using your quirk. That's cheating. Though why a strength quirk is in such a girl I'll never understand."
"That's not my quirk." Uraraka reached out and tapped the man on the chest. His gravity reversed and he began floating. Before he could get too high, Izzy used his free hand to grab the man's pant leg. He held him there like a balloon, handing the final ball to her.
"Last throw, Ochaco. Unless you want to use the airhead here."
The queasiness in her stomach was easy enough to ignore. She picked her shot, popped the balloon, and brough her fingers together. The barker fell to the ground in a heap, looking up at her in fear.
"Criminal! I'm going to call the heroes on you! Using your quirks without a license."
"What was that?" she flashed him her card. He went from manic to surely, dusting himself off and crossing his arms.
"It's still dishonest. If I'd known she was a hero I'd have made her pay like anyone else."
Izzy shook his head, hopped onto the booth top, and began pulling down one of the plushies.
"Hey, hey you can't do that."
He got down from the booth top, handing her the toy and looking the barker in the eye.
"You made a bad deal based on shitty assumptions. Either honor your word, or deal with me."
The barker opened his mouth and raised his hand, but the words caught in his throat. He fought to get them out, gritted his teeth, and shooed them away. Izzy smirked before following Uraraka down the Midway.
"Here," she handed the plushie to Izzy.
"Why? You earned it."
"And You're the Fanboy. Your own little Small Might."
He held the toy in front of him, turning the thing over and avoiding her gaze.
"It can be for Eri, if you don't want it."
"It's not that. Thank you for the gift, Ochaco. It's very thoughtful."
He smiled at her, shifting the toy under his arm and taking her hand in his. They stayed like that for awhile until the moving masses of people compelled them to move.
They decided to end their night on the Ferris Wheel, the thought of the city at night out below them and being up high alone over everything filled her mind with cheesy romance fantasies. It was the kind of date she'd always wanted as a kid, and besides a few nagging thoughts that just wouldn't keep quiet, it had gone perfectly. The thought of the kind of low pressure making out they could get into at the top of the wheel made her equal parts nervous and giddy. This really could be the capstone to a wonderful date if she didn't screw this up.
The crowd around them began to disperse as the clanking of heavy plate armor could be heard coming to a stop behind her.
"This is unacceptable!"
Her blood went cold, and she refused to turn around. She could hear the gasps and murmurs as people tried to understand why Ingenium was calling out this couple at the fun park.
"Listen, Ingenium. Is this really the place to be doing this?"
"Silence, villain! I will not have you parading about in public with this woman besmirching her good name with your presence!" Iida primed his legs. "If you do not leave her side at once, I shall be forced to take action."
"Iida, go home."
Everyone turned to look at her. She stepped forward, stood at her full height, and repeated herself.
"Iida, go home. This doesn't concern you. It's none of your business who I date. Now. Go. Home."
"I don't know who this Iida is…but Miss, I have it on good authority that your companion is a vile fiend. If you won't see reason, I must remove you from this place for your own safety."
He went to grab her. The muscles in Izzy's legs tensed, his hands clenched, and he prepared to move. Uraraka's hand was faster. Her hand flew straight from her hip, slapping Ingenium hard enough to dislodge his helmet. He began to float into the air, gravity's pull no longer binding him to the ground. His arms and legs flailed trying to right himself.
"Miss! The unlawful use of a quirk and obstruction of a hero doing his civic duty is an arrestable offense!"
"So is being a stalker, you bastard! Now go home, Iida!"
She brought her fingers back together. The armored hero fell to the ground. Before he could recover, Uraraka grasped Izzy's hand, yanked him to her side, and led him through the crowd. He followed without protest.
"We're going home."
"O-okay. Why?"
"Because I say so."
"Copy that."
Five blocks of stomping later, they arrived at her building. Izzy made to let go of her hand, to take his leave and try and get answers to what just happened back there, but he was denied. She pulled him through the door to her building, marched him up the stairs, fumbled with the keys a little, and threw open the door to her apartment.
Finally untethered, Uraraka angry-cleaned small bits here and there in her apartment, a constant muttering coming under her breath that put a small spike of fear into Izzy.
"Thinks he can still…I'll show him…none of his business who I sleep with…if it was so fucking important…"
She continued like this till she stood in front of her couch, dirty sheets in her hand, and realized she didn't have clean ones to replace them with. She let the bedclothes fall at her feet, embarrassed that she'd brought Izzy into this mess.
"Umm…this is where I live."
"I can see that. Do you want help changing those?"
"No," she tried to think of something, anything to say. He walked towards her, kicking the dirty sheets out of the way and standing in front of her.
"No laundries tomorrow and I don't think-" his lips met hers, cutting off all further thought. They fell to the couch, a tangle of limbs. She grabbed onto his back, pulling her too him. A quick kick to try and adjust their positions brought a groan and a snap from the couch. The middle cushion began to sag. She pulled her face from his and buried her head in his chest.
"Uggghhh, this is not the time. Of course, the couch breaks.
She looked up at the man she'd dragged into her home, expecting disgust, or at least rejection. She got neither. He smiled at her, and with a little chuckle kicked the arm of aging piece of furniture. The arm split from the base, collapsing the far end bring the whole decrepit piece crashing to the floor.
"Ochaco, I seem to have broken your couch. I guess I'll have to replace it.
"You," she had trouble talking through the kisses. "beautiful…bastard." They both laughed.
Kissing became intermingled with casual groping, followed by much more intentional groping. Her sweater soon lay tossed aside and forgotten. His shirt's buttons flew open under her hands. She looked at the scars on his chest, watching the color rise in his face as he watched her. He began scanning for his shirt when she reached up and began pressing her lips to each one she could find, working her way down his right arm and removing one of his gloves. The mangled hand she held, and pressed to her chest. Her bra, their pants, and any doubts of where they were going with this didn't last long after that.
It was almost midnight when she rolled off of Izzy and caught her breath. Sweat dripped from every inch of her skin, and her heart still raced as she came down from the ride. She pulled the blanket he'd discarded earlier to them, covering themselves as she curled into him and tried to get comfortable on the floor. They hadn't stayed on the remnants of the couch for long.
"Not that I'm complaining, but, why? I mean I wasn't expecting this to happen."
"Because, I wanted this."
It didn't sound happy to Izzy.
"Elaborate."
"Let's be honest, this can't go anywhere."
She turned and put her head on his chest, looking up at him underneath a mess of auburn hair. It was the closest he'd felt to anyone in a long time. The closest he'd allowed himself to feel.
"Earlier you were talking about Miss Josephine, and I could see how important she was to you. I wanted to ask you so many questions. But I won't, because you won't answer them, Izzy. I can tell you about my day, have you comfort me in the bad times and celebrate when I do well, but I'll never be able to share to with you. You'll have to lie to me every day we're together."
She put her ear to his chest, listening to the strong thump of his heat through his chest. It made her feel so safe, which only made this harder.
"And I don't want that. I want to be able to trust you, Izzy. I want to know what you're saying is true, and that I can rely on you, but you're a villain. That will never be the case."
"I've never lied to you."
She kissed him, fighting tears back as best she could.
"But you aren't ever going to tell me the full truth either."
She got up, grabbing a shirt where she could find one, and sitting on the edge of her broken couch.
"You know why I can't do that. The kid needs me, and…"
"And I'd have to bring you in if you told me everything, and you can't raise a child behind bars."
She held her head in her hands, trying to find some way out of the mess she'd thrown herself into. It was supposed to end in a harmless make out session. A good, sweet memory she could walk away from.
"I don't know about me, but I'm more worried about you."
"That doesn't make sense. Can you explain why that is?"
He paused, "no."
"Figures."
"I can't tell you everything," he took a seat beside her, his warmth feeling so nice pressed against her side, "but if I could prove you can trust me. If I earned that from you, could I see you again?"
She saw his eyes, he was pleading.
"Izzy this was fun, but I'm not desperate enough to throw my career away over sex."
"Forget the sex," he blurted out. She waited.
"Forget the sex. I just want to be able to see you again. I want to cook for you again. I want you to take me places you've always wanted to go, and see you beat idiots at their own games."
He took her hand.
"I want to the chance to stand by your side, whatever way you'd have me. Clothed, naked, costumed, I don't care. Just…give me that chance, Ochaco Uraraka."
"I don't know Izzy." She waited for more words to come from either of them. She didn't know what to say, or what way to go. For better or worse, her phone rang, breaking them out of their shared silence. She checked the screen.
"It's work," she clicked it on. "Hello"
"Ghaaa…Uravity?"
Hero names this late? What was Yami doing calling her at his hour?
"Tsukuyomi, what's wrong? Are you hurt?"
"It was…a fucking set…ghaa. They got the body…took the survivors as hostages. Nobodies responding on any network. They w-won't send back…back up." Uraraka's worry deepened the longer her friend talked. He sounded bad, but what were they doing tonight that could have led to such a battle. In the corner of her eye, she noticed Izzy began to get dressed, putting himself together in his full suit.
"Hold on, I'm coming for you."
"Forget…me. Pinky and Red Riot. They've been taken. Save them…ghaa."
The line cut. Cold furry swept through her as she turned on Izzy.
"Did you know about this?"
"Yes."
"How?"
"I can't tell you."
"Bullshit, tell me how?!" she charged him, hands going for any part of him she could get. His hands went to her wrists, holding her with more force than she thought we could muster.
"Ochaco, please. I'm telling you the truth as best I can."
"It's not the truth if you have to put conditions on it. Who took my friends? What is happening?"
Tears broke through and ran down her cheeks, her breaths turning into big ugly sobs.
Izzy knelt before her and tried to take her hand. She saw red and crashed a right hook into his jaw. He sprawled out on the ground, looking up at her.
"How can you sit there, knowing they could die, and do nothing? They have a baby. Their Eri will grow up alone unless I can save them, and you won't help me! Why won't you help me?"
The sobs kept coming, but she had to know his answer. Izzy stood up, readjusted his suit, and took the same place beside her. He held her close, letting her tears soak his jacket.
"Okay. Okay. I never said I wouldn't help."
He pulled the tie from his back pocket and dried her tears. When she got control of her breathing, he stood up, sent a message from his phone, and went to the door. Uraraka went to her spare suitcase, but Izzy stopped her.
"No, if I'm going to do this, you need to trust me. You need to stay here, please, Ochaco. I promise I'll save your friends for you but stay here. Stay as far away from this as you can. Please."
She hated this, and every doubt over the last seventy-two hours swirled through her head. Every bit of her training told her to be smart. Her gut told her to trust the man that was pleading with her.
"Okay, but if doesn't work-" he cut her off with a kiss and headed for the door.
"It'll work." With that, he walked out of her apartment, leaving her to a sleepless night. By morning, she'd know what her trust in this man was worth.
Izzy flew down the stairs and into the road. His phone rang and was at his ear before the second buzz.
"Do you understand how entirely stupid you are being, Master Izuku?"
"Riggs, I don't care. Bring the car around and bring the fucking costume."
"…you're serious, aren't you?"
"Did I stutter, old man?"
"No, master. You did not. I just hope you appreciate the element of risk, to all of us, you're bringing to this operation."
"Miss Josephine always said I had to find the line I wouldn't cross. I think it just found me."
He didn't wait for a response. He clicked off his phone and turned the corner. A long night was about to get longer.
AN: Don't worry friends, I'm not skipping the battle. Stay tuned for Part 2 and 3 to find out how the heroes wound up in such a sorry state, and can you trust a Deku to keep his promise, even if he is a villain?
