A/N: Has FF gotten rid of some of their text formatting? Trying to get this to cooperate was terrible and I've lost the small text option? All my under-breath muttering is just blunt and there now. I had to settle for putting in in parenthesis but it just doesn't read the same.
Anyway, I have no excuse for this. It started as a dream I had and everyone I told wanted it to exist as a fic. So..here we are.
Sometimes Sakaime Tohru wondered if she should have just let herself be expelled from the Hero Program all those years ago. It was an obvious and well accepted fact that not everyone would make, or remain in, any of the alluded Hero Courses; but those that were removed could still be looked upon favorably. They did their best, they made it so far, and if they aimed for the stars but missed, they still shot high. There were, at the very least, of very high calibre.
But those that chose to leave, when otherwise viewed as able to succeed? Those delinquents were unmotivated and didn't follow through with obligations. And, more casually, undeserving of such a powerful Quirk or unable to use it properly. A black mark on an otherwise impressive (or at least acceptable) resume.
Though she couldn't prove it Tohru suspected this was the reason she was chasing down a second job to keep herself in her university courses. And maybe eat an actual meal with, like, a vegetable.
"Fake it till you make it, fake it till you make it," she chanted under her breath. She liked to think there were at least a dozen students and professors at U.A who said the same thing until they grew into the mantle of a Hero, but luckily at this point the only person she was looking to save was herself- or at the very least, her bank account.
She sighed to herself as she looked around Kamino. The bleakness of the ward started to darken her internal monologue. "Fallacy" came to mind now that her empty stomach and equally barren wallet had her attention. It was too late to change her decision now and she had made it this far into Kamino so why not see it through? She really didn't have anything left to lose at this point, except time. Cost meet sunk.
A small, quiet voice inside her made something akin to a shy but polite remark that maybe she shouldn't be wandering dark back alleyways, even on the off chance that a job was hiding down them. How did she wander this far into this urban underbelly anyway? All around her were high, sullen buildings, foreboding back streets and off to her side was this seedy looking bar with an even seedier name: Loins.
Disgusting.
Her lip curled and Tohru was briefly possessed with the very childish urge to kick the wall of the building; which would do neither her leg nor her shoes any favors. It occurred to Tohru that that still small voice in her head might have been her survival instinct. Or her mother, screaming from several provinces over. Alas, any further attention to that voice was dashed when she heard someone loudly complaining from within the bar.
"How many times have I told him? We need help around here! We can barely get anything done with so few of us! And if he makes so much as another 'I can lend a hand' joke I'll-"
The complaint ended in a surprisingly audible growl but Tohru was no longer listening. Her mind had found and focused on the words 'help' and, more importantly, 'need'.
Hesitation and survival instinct be damned if the grossly named bar came with a job opportunity. Tohru fought the urge to cackle with excitement. Instead, she bounded over and rapt energetically on the door. "Excuse me! Are you hiring? I wouldn't mind applying for employment if you are!"
She was immediately greeted with silence, the same sort of silence that greeted religious door knockers upon coming to a home. The childish urge returned, this time insisting that she break down the door- You can do it easy, it doesn't even look like real wood- but that wouldn't make a good impression on any potential employers. But if they thought the silent treatment would trick her into leaving they were going to be disappointed. Her future vegetable ramen demanded persistence!
"Please? I have my papers and everything if it would help!" She insisted and hoped it didn't sound like a whine. If desperation was a stinky cologne then hunger was an awful conditioner.
Tohru was about to pound on the door again, this time with some oomph, when the door slid open by the barest of fractions. She paused, hand still raised, as she made eye contact with the person behind the door.
"You're still here?" A voice rasped and Tohru wondered belatedly if the bar wasn't technically open yet. Not that there had been any visible hours posted. (Not that she had taken the time to look.)
"Y-yes!" She answered, lowering her hand and fixing her body language into something a little more presentable. "My name is-"
"Get inside!" The voice snapped, somehow sounding both put-upon and insistant. Tohru didn't make him ask twice, but she did wish he had opened the door a little wider. She managed to wiggle through but there was an instant where she was certain the door would be slammed on the strap of her shoulder bag and it would be left there, free for the taking.
The Loins Bar was every bit as seedy as it's name suggested though it looked far more pathetic as opposed to being tasteless. It was cramped and sparsely furnished, except for the long line of shelves with neatly stacked bottles of liquor. There wasn't much lighting but the lights it did have were harsh enough to make a sharp contrast. It made her interviewer look like nothing more than a shadow in a business suit.
Or, no, he was a shadow in a business suit. At least his entire head, the only visible skin(?), seemed to be comprised of a vaporous shadow with equally vaporous yellow smoke to indicate eyes. He must be terrifying to happen upon in the dark but he looked very tidy in his smartly tailored vest and immaculately clean white shirt. He appeared a striking contrast of vaguely villainous and staunchly professional. Whatever she had been expecting to find behind the door Tohru could admit this man wasn't it.
And whatever the man had expected to open the door to wasn't her: a co-ed in street clothes, with her light brown hair still tinged faintly pink from a crisis dye over a month ago, and the wide-eyed look of someone who had pulled several all nighters and was combating it with the bad campus coffee and cheap vending machine drinks.
"Hello, my name is Sakaime Tohru," Tohru explained, recovering her composure with a bow and handing the man her neat little folder of identification papers, recommendations and work history. "And how may I address you?" She asked.
"Not important right now," the shadow huffed, quickly leafing through her papers. There was a deliberateness in his movements, the actions of a man used to being in charge but stiffened just enough by being caught off guard. "You can know my name if you're accepted."
"Of course...that's an odd way of saying hired," Tohru murmured under her breath.
"Hired?" the man repeated, as if caught off guard. The nebulous shadow that comprised his face made a movement as if his eyebrows were raising and Tohru realized just how difficult it would be to read this man's expressions.
"Well, yes." she began slowly, uncertain. "Weren't you just complaining about the lack of help? (I'm pretty sure that was you, I don't see anyone else.) 'Hired' is normally the word used."
The shadowy man stared at her in uncomfortable silence. Tohru swallowed as she realized that maybe, despite its rundown appearance, maybe this was one of those exclusive sorts of bars. Though she was reluctant to break eye contact, her potential misstep was making her sweat so she took a moment to take another look around the room. On second look something about the dingy furnishings seemed almost deliberate. And, yes, there was one of those decorative skulls placed snugly among the top shelf booze. A theme bar, then.
"I could help out, take orders and serve drinks, maybe? I suppose I could even help out in the kitchens. Where is the kitchen anyway?" She squinted at the closed door behind the bar, trying to visualize the layout of the place. "I'm not sure if this bar has a menu, but I can cook simple dishes easily enough and a few Western ones, too."
"Bar." her interviewer said as if realizing what sort of place he was standing in for the first time. "Yes, that. We could use a bartender. It would make a nice front- I mean make us look legitimate- that is, a proper bartender would be nice."
"You mean you're not legitimate?" Tohru asked, tilting her head.
"We are... certainly an establishment."
"And you observe all the legal regulations, right?" She inquired.
"Oh, we most certainly observe them. Obsessively so, in a manner of speaking," Shadow Man grumbled, even as it sounded like he was telling some personal inside joke.
Tohru smiled politely because it was more diplomatic than the urge to mutter 'weirdo'.
"Have a seat." Shadow Man- and honestly the schtick was getting old. Why couldn't he give her a name?- gestured to the open row of bar stools. He stepped behind the counter with a practiced sort of ease. "I suppose I should interview you. That's what comes next, right? Yes, right."
Her folder was opened, papers laid out in front of the man. He seemed to take a moment to squint at her old UA file and Tohru once again wished her hopeful teenage face wasn't staring back at her.
"So, what strengths do you bring to our...establishment?" the shadow asked.
"Well, you've read the file on my Quirk-"
"It's...something, yes," the shadow replied and Tohru was certain he couldn't decide how to feel about it. Which, she supposed, was fair as she didn't always know how to feel about it from day to day.
"And you know I'm pursuing higher education-"
"Correct."
"And you've seen I've studied at U.A." It was still a prestigious school and even the regular high school she went to afterward had been decently ranked.
"A while ago, unfortunately," Mr. Shadow murmured, so low she almost missed the comment.
"What was that?" Tohru asked, confused.
"Nothing. Please, tell me what other assets do you bring?"
"I have a fine eye for details and I'm willing to learn more about cocktails and mixed drinks!" Tohru declared. Fake it till you make it. Fake it till you make it. "I know a few of the popular ones already and I've always thought mixology was interesting."
"Indeed." Mr. Shadow sounded uninterested but from her new place at the bar Tohru could see most of the bottles behind him had never even been opened. Did he know how to bartend?
"So, who's the new henchmen we're taking on?" a sickly enthusiastic voice declared, slamming a door open. It was a second door she'd given little thought to on her initial scan of the room; likely it led to some sort of apartment style living area above the bar.
The newcomer sagged as he walked in that annoyingly intentional way usually seen with delinquent students trying to look cool. Worse, he was covered in hands. Grossly realistic hands everywhere including across his face, making it impossible to see his face and whatever expression he was making. As if that wasn't bad enough (and it was bad) the man had let his hair grow free of anything even resembling a hairstyle and let it just hang, further obscuring his face. And, if Tohru were honest, he seemed so scrawny that it seemed he had known less healthy meals than she, a college student, did.
'Definitely a theme bar,' Tohru thought, watching as this new man slunk over to take a seat himself. 'One of those tasteless villain ones.'
"I have a question for the possible recruit!" Mr. Hands declared, with an excessively wide and dramatic gesture.
Tohru waited with bated breath.
Mr. Shadow held his peace with eyes clenched shut. He didn't have a nose, at least not a visible one, but Tohru was sure he was dying to pinch the bridge of it in a vain hope to stem a building headache.
Tohru could see the dynamic already: Hands was the incompetent boss, high up on a totem pole he had no business being on. Maybe one of those rich kids playing villain to get his kicks in a way that wouldn't damage daddy's reputation and his inheritance. Mr. Shadow was the dedicated second in command, saddled with cleaning up the boss' mess and secretly making sure the place didn't fall down around everyone's ears. She made a note to always report to Mr. Shadow if she ended up with this job. Hands probably didn't even know how the coffee maker ran.
"My question to you… " Hands repeated with sadistic glee while rubbing his two hands (the ones actually attached to his own arms) together. "Do you think you're powerful enough to kill All Might?"
One of those stupid litmus test questions corporations loved so much, she decided, as terribly themed as the bar itself. Tohru considered what would be the most appropriate response. Apprehension gave way to a bright, shining epiphany.
"I could kill All Might," she began earnestly. Hands leaned closer, bordering dangerously on crossing into her personal space and Tohru fought the urge to lean away. "With love and kindness."
Mr. Shadow and Hands stared at her blankly. Tohru felt rather proud of herself. Mr. Shadow looked dumbfounded, as much as he could. Hands looked confused. Maybe, it was hard to tell with that damn hand on his face. Could he even see?
"We'll hire her!" Hands declared, with something he probably thought was an evil sounding cackle.
"Wait, what?" Mr. Shadow and Tohru said in unison. Though Tohru sounded much more enthusiastic about the statement.
"I like it. We'll use her as backup!" Hands giggled as he got up and began to slink away, back to whatever room he had been hiding in before. "Worst case, we can toss her at a Hero for a distraction or she can play with Nomu."
'Nomu' was likely his dog, if Tohru had to guess. Some sort of purse dog with a big name to seem tougher, as Hands was so slinky and slouchy that it didn't seem like he could handle anything bigger than a Pomeranian. Maybe a Corgi if the universe was feeling generous.
Unbidden the thought came to her of Hands being dragged through the park by three large German Shepherds, like the most terrible worm-on-a-string.
The corner of her mouth twitched upward and Tohru had to turn her attention back to Mr. Shadow to save her composure. "So, that went...well?"
The foggy man was definitely pinching whatever passed for a bridge on whatever nebulous nose he had now if the movement of his suit was anything to go by. A sigh caused his gassy frame to puff out for a bit but then he looked at her.
"Come by tomorrow at noon if you're interested. We'll go from there," he said, his tone lukewarm. Tohru wondered if he secretly hoped she wouldn't show up. Her future ramen wouldn't stand for that and neither would she.
"I'll be here tomorrow then," Tohru stood, bowed, and headed for the door. Mr. Shadow said nothing but in the last instance she saw him he had the look of a man resigned to his fate. Whatever, she'd take it.
Feeling accomplished, Tohru stepped back out into the streets and looked the door over. She'd need to write down the address so she could remember how to get back here. It was only then that she noticed that the establishment wasn't actually named "Loins." The badly weathered neon sign had bravely stood its watch but time and the elements hadn't been kind to it. (Or it was so badly wired that it had caught fire once...or thrice.) Sadly, it looked like plenty of the dead letters had fallen off as well so now it was impossible to read what the original sign had intended. She'd have to ask her boss when she came back what the bar was actually called. In the meantime she'd know it as:
Lxxxxx
ox
xxxxxins
Which, unfortunately, was still 'Loins' but at least knowing that wasn't the bar's proper name made things feel less skeevy. Just a little.
"Whatever," Tohru declared to the empty alleyway, throwing her arms into the air in something like celebration. "Veggie ramen, here I come! (Eventually.) Maybe I can even get fried tofu, oh I'm so excited."
Things were starting to look up, and maybe Tohru would let herself feel a little of that Plus Ultra spirit again.
