Chapter 30

The business district of Otemachi was rife with nightlife, illuminated by the countless windows of office workers pulling overtime for the sake of their companies, and I had never felt so uncomfortable in my life. I tugged at the back of my dress and sighed. I should have fought harder for my appearance. I had only been doing it my entire life, but like usual, that little voice inside my head that sounded so much like my mother started talking. 'People should wear something nice on a date, not just something formal you wear all the time to work. People who care about their appearance would hate if they saw their clothes were wrinkled when they left the house. Most people who wear dresses would shave their legs before going out- scratch that, should shave their legs all the time.'

Which was why I was wearing a black, knee-length dress that was drenched with Downpour Wrinkle Release and a pair of Spanx that went so high up my waist, it could've been a second bra. Sweat was already creeping down my back as I listened to the slap-slap of my gladiator sandals on the pavement. They were flat and largely uncomfortable for a long duration of time, but anything was better than heels. Like I needed to add 'clumsy giraffe' to my growing list of faults. An acrid, chemical odor of hairspray hung on me like a dark cloud while I fought the urge to touch my hair, either to push it out of my face or cool off my neck. I had a time limit of three hours at max for my curls and wasn't particularly eager to hear complaints of ruining it because I was being fussy. Having had kept it in a ponytail or bun for so long, I had forgotten exactly how long and massive my hair was. My sister was a well-meaning fairy godmother, but she had our mother's tastes, and their idea of dolling me up felt suffocating and totally not my style at all. At least this time around I had convinced Jo-Elle not to use the straightening iron after the last time. I could still feel the burns on my right temple.

"I can't believe I allowed you to do this to my hair," I said, running my hand tentatively through the end of a spiral strand.

"I know but just think of how pretty you'll look on your date with Izuku," Jo-Elle said, not looking remorseful in the slightest. Walking past a window display, I paused at the cute, curly-haired stranger in the reflection. As much as I hated to admit it, I looked hot. The drastic transformation into this beautiful young lady that I knew existed and often self-projected onto myself, was also a constant reminder of how little effort I put into my own appearance. 'See? You could look like this all the time if you weren't so lazy and put more effort into your appearance like normal people,' I heard my mother's voice say, putting a damper on my mood.

"It's not a date. He invited me to his friend's birthday party."

"Yeah, speaking of which, remind me why I'm here again?"

"Moral support."

"Riiight."

"Look, if you want to bow out later, just remember to say you have a Tinder date or something you need to get to and that you were in the neighborhood to kill some time. I'll make up an excuse for you if you can't find the words."

"...You are so lucky that I like show-tunes."

"Thank you. I love you," I gushed in an overly saccharine voice, rebuffed the instant I went in for a hug.

"Yeah, yeah... Just remember that he invited you to his friend's party. Izuku's there to celebrate being with his other friends. That means not dominating the entire conversation or monopolizing his attention."

"I know..." I mumbled, feeling a flicker of irritation and melancholy. I hadn't considered not being able to talk to Izuku. It had been years since I had been invited to a birthday party, let alone one where you only knew the host and no one else. He was probably going to have most of his attention on his other friends, people he'd known for years. Maybe it really wasn't a first date. Why was I even here then? I should have been working on my next chapter. I still had until Friday evening to post it and doing things last minute was never a good practice to keep.

A back alley with a bright red light illuminated in neon with the symbols for 'Karaoke' glared at me, interrupting my thoughts. There had been so many different karaoke places, some bars and others full establishments. This one, however, was the seediest looking one of the bunch, a real life hole-in-the-wall establishment with dirty alleyways and non-descriptive door signs.

"Are you sure that this is the right place?"

I looked down at the directions on my phone and reread the katakana on the door, sounding it out. "' Ja...ba...kyu...den'...? That's what was on the address Izuku texted to me." Already I could hear my mother whispering in my ear telling me that this place was sketchy and that I should bail, but she also grew up in a small town with little diversity.

Don't let Mom's paranoid small-minded thinking get to you. Many places look like total dives when it really means that they're rustic and worn in, I reasoned. Just because you don't frequent places like this doesn't mean you should judge a book by its cover. Appearances can be deceiving.

"If it looks like someone will harvest our organs, we can totally bail. No date is worth that," I joked while feeling around for a doorway inside and tugged the handle open, praying that this wasn't secretly a den of sin. Inside, Jabkyuden had an evening ambience, something that made it seem way more sophisticated than I had expected; appearances really were deceiving. A part of me felt justified but another part of me now felt like it was more than I deserved. Everything about this place screamed that I didn't belong here, that I shouldn't be here. A subtle yet noxious odor that smelled like musty BO and red wine invaded my nose yet Jo-Elle appeared unaffected. Already, I could feel my skin start to crawl at the edge of the radon fabric of my dress, a habit I had overcome years ago that liked to raise its ugly head when I was super self-aware of my appearance.

Nevermind. I change my mind. This was a mistake. Get out. Get out now before anyone can see you. It's not too late! You can still go home and work on your comic- and in comfy sweats! Izuku will understand-

I sucked in a breath. Everything felt too hot- the air, my clothes, the florescent mood lighting, my hair. Struck by the overwhelming desire to go somewhere cold to cool myself down, I rubbed my hands over my arms to quell the goose-pimples that sprung up as the hairs on my arms raised- maybe I could stand under an air-conditioner? Chic fashion stores were always super cold, right? Maybe I could slip into one of them for just a second-

"Room for two?" asked the receptionist, a man who dressed to the nines in a fancy suit and tie. Too late to back out now.

"Actually we're here for the- umm..." I paused. What name did Izuku put the party under? His name? His friend's? He had never really said what his name was, always calling him Kacchan. Why did that sound so familiar..? In a serendipitous moment, I noticed a mop of curly green hair and felt my breath catch, all my anxiety momentarily forgotten. "Oh there he is. Izuku!" I waved at him, relieved, feeling a burst of enthusiasm. The man paused for a moment, making me question if I had called out to the wrong person. He wasn't wearing his usual red high-tops or track suits. He couldn't have been the only person with green hair in this city. That was like anime protagonist 101. Then I locked eyes with the most gorgeous pair of Sacramento green eyes I had ever seen and then I knew- I was fucked.

In a word, Izuku looked positively dumbfounded, holding two glasses of iced tea with his mouth hanging slightly open... and being absolutely adorable. He was dressed down in a clean, black, button-up dress shirt with a collar and a pair of charcoal grey jeans, giving him an air of maturity while wearing comfortable clothes that I found utterly irresistible. I noticed his usual red high-tops were replaced by a pair of off-white Ingenium cross-trainers but refrained from commenting on them, unsure if he was still getting over the trauma of the incident.

"...Alyssa?"

"Heyyy, Izuku. I hope I'm not late." Don't smile too wide, you idiot! You don't want to scare him off, I admonished myself, already feeling the corners of my mouth stretch involuntarily. God, I loved how he said my name. You could hear the effort he put into saying it right even with his native accent. I couldn't believe I never noticed it before. What a stand-up guy.

"What are-? You look-!" he stammered before settling on a dumbfounded expression that looked utterly adorable. "You look beautiful..."

"Awww thanks. You do too," I blurted out on reflex, unable to fully meet his gaze while mine burned bright like the sun. "I mean-!" Abort! Abort! I screamed internally and began fishing for the saran-wrapped present I had carefully placed inside. "I brought this. I wasn't sure exactly what to bring, since I don't really know your friend personally, but I'd figure it's the thought that counts." Izuku wordlessly stared at the wrapped plastic plate in my hands while I continued to ramble. "It's my grandmother's homemade waffles. My mom's family always had a tradition of eating them on their birthdays, and they are absolutely to die for. You can eat them with or without syrup and-"

"(Chill out, Alyssa. You don't need to Aly-splain everything. I'm sure he gets it)," Jo-Elle coached from behind me.

"(Right! Sorry.)" Seeing Izuku's gaze tracking Jo-Elle behind me, I quickly added with a nervous smile, "Anyways, I hope you don't mind, but I brought my sister along. I hope that's okay."

"Uh... sure. The more the merrier."

"Hello. I'm Jo-Elle Blake. Nice to meet you." Jo-Elle did a slight bow and I silently thanked God that I was lucky enough to have a sister that was considerate enough to be respectful to all cultures.

Izuku bowed. "Nice to meet you too. I'm Izuku Midoriya."

"Her Japanese is a little broken but she should follow most of what you say," I explained.

"Oh... okay. Good. Well uh, follow me this way, I guess." We walked past the receptionist towards a room that had a striking resemblance to one of my college practice rooms, only with more square footage. The only real difference between them was that there were no mirrors, stand-up pianos against the wall or god-awful practice chairs. The soundproof door opened and I was immediately slammed with a cacophony of laughter, conversation, and the pulse of J-Pop. My ears buzzed from the microphone feedback, feeling each thump-thump-thump of the bass as I crept in behind Izuku, feeling like I could somehow hide myself behind his five six frame and messy hair. The smell of sake was prominent in the air as a colorful assortment of people sat on a long booth that wrapped around the long dining table, ranging from a young man with circular elbows to a girl that was bubble-gum pink from head to toe. The latter was currently singing her heart out to some sort of gaudy J-Pop song playing on the flat-screen TV I couldn't place, swaying in rhythm with the music. I figured we would just slip in and blend in with the group. Then the song ended and suddenly all attention was on the three people lingering in the doorway.

"Who brought the amazons?" an ash blonde man asked, his gruff attitude matching his edgy, military crew-cut. He wore an open shoulder length denim jacket with a popped collar over a black t-shirt with a skull on it, exposing that his lower arms were fairly toned and riddled with faint scars- cute but unapproachable. Not wanting to be intimidated by a man who was a walking Hot Topic commercial and almost a head shorter than me, I crossed my arms and gave him my most confident smirk.

"Since Amazons are supposed to be strong warrior women, I'll take that as a compliment," I sniffed haughtily, straightening my spine and puffing up my chest. I wore a dress and Spanx to this party, damn it. No way was I going to let one random asshole making digs at my height ruin my night.

"Kacchan, this is Alyssa Blake and her sister Jo-Elle. They came here to wish you a happy birthday."

I felt my resolve crumple a little at the revelation as the tone in the air shifted. This was Kacchan? He was the exact opposite of Izuku in every way, from his cross demeanor all the way to his fashion sense. Even his color tones were in direct contrast to Izuku's character design, exact opposites on the color wheel- complimentary colors that should not mix.

"Is that right?" said Kacchan. His crimson gaze narrowed, breaking away from mine only to glance at Izuku before they zeroed back on me. He had the worst case of male resting bitch-face I had ever seen. He looked annoyed but somewhat curious. I tried giving him some my best eye-contact game. First impressions were everything and roles of who the alpha male was in the situation was already taking place.

"Why don't you two sit down? There's plenty of room." Izuku offered, holding out his arm towards the half-filled booth while he handed the two iced teas he had been carrying out towards the pink girl and the brunette sitting beside her.

"Thank y-"

"And why the hell should I let you sit here?" Kacchan cut me off with a lazy growl. I raised an eyebrow.

"...'Cause we were invited?"

"Really? Because I don't recall asking you to be here."

"Izuku said we could come."

"'s that so?" Kacchan's face shifted, settling his gaze on an uncomfortable Izuku to have some sort of internal conversation I couldn't follow. It didn't just feel like I was staking my claim on authority of being the most politically correct. Now it felt like I was fighting for Izuku's honor- or at least it did inside my head. The more I locked eyes with the loud, outspoken blonde, the louder the nagging feeling at the back of my mind of was at how familiar this all was. Had I heard his voice before or was it that it reminded me of a quote from some TV show or movie I couldn't place?

"Come on, man. It's not manly to make the girls have to stand after they've come all this way." Unlike his friend, the redhead with long spiky hair pulled back with a nejiri hachimaki headband with teeth equally as sharp, was somehow less intimidating than the angry Pomeranian sitting next to him.

"Yeah Katsu- Bakugou. I'm sure we can make some space if we just scoot a little," the brunette tugged on his sleeve while giving him an admonishing look. Her round face and bubbly aura was a stark contrast to both of them, easily making her one of the cutest girls in the whole room to the point where I wondered why she was associated with any of them, let alone sitting next to Bakugou; she also was giving me familiar vibes. Maybe she was his girlfriend? An angry guy like that would have a sweet looking girlfriend.

Bakugou clicked his tongue. "Tch whatever..." A few more tense seconds went by before his shoulders relaxed. "Well don't just stand there. Sit down already."

"Thanks," I replied curtly, carefully moving down the row with Jo-Elle in front and Izuku behind me before the former froze in her tracks. Thinking I had run into her, I tried to move around her but Jo-Elle refused to budge. "(What's the hold up?)" I asked. I followed her gaze towards the guy sitting in the corner with the two-toned hair and all was made clear. "Oh."

"¡Dios Mío!" I heard her utter under her breath, her face a numb, impassive facade. Well, that wasn't good.

"Excuse us for a sec." I gave everyone a polite smile and turned my sister towards the front of the room as another song came on the karaoke machine. One of the other guests decided to keep the party rolling with something with a more oriental beat before I felt Jo-Elle smack my arm. "(Oww! Hey-!)"

"(What the hell, Alyssa? You didn't tell me Shoto was going to be here!)" Jo-Elle growled through gritted teeth in a harsh stage whisper, eyes fierce and glaring daggers.

"(I didn't know! How was I supposed to know Izuku was friends with one of your favorite pro-heroes?)"

"(Because he's a pro-hero! Naturally, they all know each other!)"

"(That's a leap in logic)," I scoffed. "(Well don't just stand there. Go talk to him!)"

"(I can't just talk to Shoto Todoroki. What am I supposed to say?)"

"(Just admit that you're a fan of his and maybe ask for an autograph when the timing is right? Just be casual about it.)"

"(Oh right. So I take it that you're going to do the same for Ground Zero then?)"

"(...the hell you talkin' about, Willis?)"

"Hey, what's with the chatter? You sitting down or what?" Bakugou asked with a gruff.

"In a minute," I said, his impatience reminding me that not all Japanese people were polite. Then again, maybe he was drunk. "(I don't get what you mea- ohmygodKacchanisGroundZero!)"

"(Took you long enough.)"

"(That's- Ground Zero! He's freaking Ground Zero! Ohmygod! I thought he sounded familiar! I can't believe we're at Ground Zero's birthday party! This is HUGE!)" I exclaimed with barely contained zeal before more connections were made. "(Oh my god, he's even sitting next to Uravity! What the hell!? I'm such an idiot! How did I not recognize him?!)"

"(Maybe because he always wears the mask when you see him and you suck at facial recognition if somebody so much as changes their haircut?)" Jo-Elle suggested. I couldn't believe it. Ground Zero and Uravity together in public. They must have been pretty good friends in real life to be seen together out of costume.

While I speculated on whether or not the theories of them dating were true, the enormity of what I had just done finally hit me. I'd just had a passive-aggressive staring contest with one of my favorite pro-heroes because he was being rude to me and by default, Izuku- but Izuku probably didn't take offense to it like I did because he was supposed to be best friends with the guy.

"(Oh god, I think one of the first things Izuku actually told me was that he was best friends with Ground Zero. I just never put it together until now!)" I growled in frustration.

"(Will you keep it down! You can't whisper for shit!)" Jo-Elle admonished me before I noticed some of the stares in our direction.

"(I think they're onto us. Okay let's give them codenames instead- how about Ice Prince, Explosion Boy, Freckles, and Floaty Queen?)"

"(I don't care what you call them! I'm not going back in there!)"

"(What?! You promised you would! Please Jo-Jo, you can't back out now!)"

Jo-Elle pressed her lips together and gave me a fierce glare. "(Fine, but I'm not asking for his autograph- and before you even say it, no! Don't even ask for it on my behalf.)"

"(Okay, okay, jeez Louise.)" I mumbled before plastering on a smile. Play it cool, Blake! He's still the same person he was not five seconds ago, the asshole who was giving Izuku a hard time about inviting us. Yeah, yeah, run with that. His profession is just a title. Treat him no differently than if you had met him as just being Izuku's best friend.

Taking that into consideration, how had they become friends? It had to be one of those relationships where Izuku was the nerd growing up who helped him with his homework and that they had become friends because Bakugou protected him against all the bullies who had tried to beat him up. Yeah, that made way more sense.

I awkwardly squeezed through the narrow space between the booth seats and the table before scooting towards the middle. The room was even warmer than it was outside and the space between the table and booth seat was snug and compact. There was no escape, sardine-d between my sister on one side and Izuku on the other. Already I could feel how intimate the setting was, so close to Izuku that I could smell the subtle scent of peppermint on him.

"Are you hungry?" Izuku asked. "We already ordered, but I'm sure we can get something for you two." I felt a pang of hunger as I stared at all the meat dishes on the menu he held out to me but shook my head.

"No thank you. I already ate before I came here and Jo-Elle can't stay long. I think I'll just have a water instead," I looked towards Jo-Elle and she nodded. "She'll have the same."

"Two waters, coming right up." I watched as Izuku quickly shuffled out of the booth and grabbed two bottles of water that were sitting in a nearby mini-fridge.

"(He seems eager)," Jo-Elle teased before I elbowed her in the side. The redhead sitting opposite of her stood up, teeth bared and excited.

"It's my time to shine!" he cheered. Since we were too big to just lean back to let him pass by, Jo-Elle and I shuffled out of the booth to let him out before sitting back down again, nearly running into Izuku as we did.

"Sorry!"

"Excuse me!" We both chuckled awkwardly before Izuku handed me the water bottle and I passed Jo-Elle's to her.

"(Aww you guys are so cute together)," my sister gushed, taking out her phone to record conversations and play them back to her in English.

"Ah ha ha (shut the fuck up right now or I'll tell Ice Prince and Explosion Boy that you have a whole TikTok folder dedicated to them on your phone.)" I said with a smile that could freeze lava.

"(Okay, you need to chill. I was just teasing.)" Jo-Elle gave Bakugou a discrete sidelong glance now that he was casually sitting in full view a space away from her before retreating back into her seat. As much as I was a nervous wreck, I knew I wasn't the only one who thought Ground Zero was hot. Jo-Elle had a thing for men who were self-aware -and had nice arms.

"So you're Alyssa..." said another male voice. My eyes went towards the blonde sitting across from that was elbows deep in a bowl of otsumami. He was the kind of skinny that just screamed wannabe rock-star with his abstract Pikachu t-shirt and garage-band greasy hair that was swept into a low, short ponytail at the base of his neck. There was a single black streak of hair that was shaped like a lighting bolt stretching across the side of his head. Wonder how long that took him to paint on... "I'm Denki Kaminari, one of Midoriya's coworkers. He's talked a lot about you."

"Really? Good things, I hope," I said over the heavy rock music and glanced at Izuku who was smiling bashfully into his tea, the red in his cheeks making his freckles pop more. So cute.

"You kidding? Izuku won't stop talking about the foreign girl he met on the subway. The whole office is making bets on when you two get together."

Izuku choked mid-sip while my temperature skyrocketed. "Wh-What!?" Izuku wheezed before breaking out into another coughing fit, covering his mouth with napkin.

"You know, I thought it was your sister he was talking about, but now that I see you, I get it."

I frowned. What was that supposed to mean? Did Izuku say something about me behind my back? Did he think I was pretty or did I come off as a rude American girl? Was I a disappointment to his friends? Jo-Elle was thinner, prettier, and much more stylish than I was. Perhaps they'd been hoping they had gotten her instead.

"You know," said Kaminari as he lazily twirled the can of beer in his hand. "you're a lot taller than I expected. Do you or your sister play basketball?"

"Umm a little. We used to play in a church league back when we were kids, but nothing beyond that. Our mom was pretty good though, good enough to make it to state for her high school basketball team at least."

"Oh is she tall too?"

"Yep." I took a swig from my water bottle and stared the pikachu printed on his shirt. "I like your shirt. Do you play Pokémon?"

"Not since I was a kid, why? Do you?"

"Yes. Maybe. Sometimes." My fingers curled into fists under the table, subtly shoving the pokéball key-chain further into my purse. Did that sound too childish? Maybe it would have been cooler if I been one of those people who played something edgy like Dark Souls or one of the Elder Scrolls games.

"Do you own any guns?" asked a guy with the funny looking elbows that resembled tape dispensers.

"Uhhh no, but my dad owns some hunting rifles."

"Cool. Have you ever shot anything?"

"Nope. Sorry to say I haven't fired a gun before. It's not really my thing. I think I would be too nervous holding onto something so dangerous, plus they're way too loud for me." The disappointment of my answer reflected on their flushed faces. "But my best friend Gabby promised to take me skeet shooting the next time I visit her!"

"What's 'skeet shooting'?"

"It's where you take a bunch of clay discs and launch them into the air so you can try to shoot them."

"Whoa, that sounds so badass!"

"It is pretty cool," I admitted. "I want to do it at least once to say that I've done it. That way I can describe what it feels like to fire a gun with more accuracy for my writing."

"You write?"

"Oh yeah, I think Midoriya did mention you were a writer," said Kaminari matter-of-factually.

"Well, not officially. I just dabble a little with fanfiction and comics and... stuff," I trailed off lamely, trying to keep up with the quickly shifting conversation. I could only imagine what they were thinking. 'You're not a real writer. You didn't earn the credit actual authors' deserved. You probably write your own personal smut-driven fantasies with fictional characters, you freak.'

Izuku, who had been quiet and nervously fidgeting with his drink up until now, leaned towards me with interest, his elbow almost bumping mine. "That's right- how's your latest story coming along?"

I smiled. He remembered. "It's going. I still need to find some of my kanji books for translations before anything's official yet."

"Let me know if you need any help. My English isn't great, but I can help you with grammar if you want," Izuku offered before turning towards his friends. "Alyssa's going to try and sell a comic at Natsucomi this year."

"W-Well maybe, I'm not sure yet."

"What are you talking about? Of course you should," he urged with a hint of pride in his voice, "Alyssa's drawings are amazing. You should see them. They look so professional, almost like they came straight out of a comic-book."

"Oh no, I'm not that great-"

"I'd like to see that," chirped the pink girl.

"Yeah, let's see some of them," said Kaminari. Their smiles seemed friendly enough, but I couldn't tell if they were sincere or they were going to make fun of me behind my back. I knew I was well past the age where I wouldn't have to worry about someone stealing one of my notebooks to scribble all over it in ink or draw a penis on it when I wasn't looking, but the paranoia was still there. The truth was that I didn't know these people and I had a bad habit of tending to run my mouth and be open and vulnerable with absolute strangers, expecting that they would reciprocate. I still hadn't even told Izuku about my mother's cancer yet, let alone that I was the author of one of his favorite web-comics.

The weight of my mini sketchbook felt heavy in my purse as I dug my nails into the sides of the worn polyester-radon blend. "I uhh I would but I didn't bring my sketchbook with me. Sorry," I lied, concealing my purse further into my lap before deflecting to my ally as a distraction, "You should ask Jo-Elle. She's the real starving artist."

"Really? What do you do for a living?" Todoroki asked, looking over towards where my sister shyly shifted in her seat.

"She doesn't speak much Japanese but she can understand some of what you're saying," I explained, causing the icy-hot hero's expression to shift towards understanding.

"Oh sorry." He then turned towards Jo-Elle and said, "(What do you do for a living?)" in almost perfect English. We sat there for a moment, processing what had just happened and the implications that followed. Jo-Elle picked her jaw off the floor and managed a nearly incoherent "...kodana" before shyly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I'm sorry..?"

"She says she 'works at a pottery studio in Takodana,'" I translated back for everyone else, all while internally worrying exactly how good Shoto's English was and how much he heard earlier. Jo-Elle was probably doing the same.

"Wow, Shoto. I didn't know you spoke English."

"Well not all of us failed English like you did, Mina," Tape-Elbows teased, causing the pinkette to playfully shove her friend.

"Aw be quiet, Hanta! You were no better at it than I was!"

"Just a little," Todoroki explained. "I had a lot of private English tutors helping me before I studied abroad."

Izuku hummed. "That's right. I forgot you went to Los Angeles for your year abroad."

The energetic redhead that had been singing earlier sat down, revealing that his teeth weren't sharp but slightly crooked as he smiled. "So you make pottery, huh? That's so cool! Oh sorry. I'm Eijirou Kirishima, by the way."

"Hanta Sero."

"I'm Shoto Todoroki."

"...Nice to meet you."

"So what do you make?" Kirishima asked, this time directing his question towards Jo-Elle, who had been looking back and forth periodically from her translating app that she had playing back various conversations.

"I make bowls, I carve plates... make cups with kirby handles," Jo-Elle answered, barely able to form the words.

Kirishima tilted his head slightly. "Kirby..?"

"She means 'curvy.' You know-" I gestured an hourglass shape with my hands. "-curvy?"

"Oh, curvy. That's cool."

"If you think that's cool, you should have seen the stuff she sells herself. My first bowl from her had a dragon carved into the side."

"A dragon?! That's so manly! Can I see?"

Jo-Elle, having missed with her app lagging a few seconds behind, looked particularly lost before I leaned over to translate. "(He wants to see the Smaug bowl you carved for me)."

"Oh! Yes." Jo-Elle then pulled up her Instagram page and began scrolling over some of the work for Kirishima. Once I felt some of the pressure lessen from my chest of being watched, I looked towards Sero and blurted out the first thing that had come to mind.

"Okay, weird personal question, since we appear to be playing Twenty Questions this whole night, I've been dying to ask- the tape that comes out of your elbows, do you ever reel it back and find gunk stuffed into your elbows or does it never get to that point?"

"You know, I've wondered that too. How do you keep debris from getting into your elbows?" Izuku admitted as I felt his shoulder lightly brush against mine as he leaned forward.

"Well normally, I don't reel in my tape all the way where it touches foreign objects. I've had some fun experiences where I end up jammed and have to occasionally clean out my elbows. I even had surgery once because of too many things getting lodged in it."

Mina made a noise of disgust. "Oh wow, that sucks."

"I don't do it now, obviously. Just when I was first starting out."

"Does that mean you have a bunch of Q-tips specifically for cleaning out your elbows?" Kaminari snickered before being whapped behind the head.

"Ah shaddup! It's better than smelling like old batteries and burnt hair, Mr. One Million Dolts."

"Hey! See if I ever charge your phone again for you."

"You use that same excuse for everything. The least you could do is try and stick to your promises," said the girl with a shaved, indigo pixie-cut and what I thought were earlobes stretched out by ear-gauges. Upon closer inspection, it actually turned out that they were long earlobes that extended down into tips that formed headphone jacks. She leaned over in a non-discreet whisper, "You should see how bad he is when it's his turn to do the dishes."

"Kyokaaa, you're supposed to be on my side. Why you gotta be so mean?" Kaminari whined. Everyone laughed at the exchange, and things settled back down into their usual rhythm.

"Feel free to have a song ready. We've got some time before the food's going to be here," Izuku suggested after Sero stood up to do his song.

Oh god... In the entirety I had spent worrying about how the 'date' would go, I had completely forgotten to prepare a song-list to choose from. I had to pick something, but I didn't want to completely dominate the microphone; I was a guest and it wasn't my party to crash. Unfortunately, I was too tightly wound to enjoy any of it, too focused on the fact that it felt like Izuku was sitting closer to me and that I still hadn't picked a song to sing for my turn on the mic. What if I took forever to find a song? What if they didn't have what I wanted to sing? Obviously they wouldn't have every song I liked, since I listened to soundtracks and classical music as much as I did to songs with lyrics. I knew a few songs by Utada Hikaru, both in English and Japanese. Would singing Kingdom Hearts songs be too revealing that I was an otaku or would it open more doors to conversation?

"-yssa?"

"Yes?" I said distractedly.

"I asked if you wanted to sing next," Izuku said. Oh god, had I been wrapped up in my own thoughts for so long that Sero had already finished his song? That was way too fast! I needed more time. I wasn't mentally prepared for this!

"Oh. No, I don't have anything yet. You go on ahead."

"You sure? You look kind of serious. Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm fine. Just lost in thought." I smiled and watched as Izuku went towards the front and pulled up an upbeat song about taking back secrets. I hummed slightly along to the song, amazed to find that he had a pleasant voice to listen while I watched the people around me break off into their own conversations. I wanted to talk to Bakugou about something, but I couldn't think of any of the millions of questions I wanted to ask him. Instead my focus shifted towards Kyoka, particularly her earlobes.

"So uhh Kyoka, was it? I have to ask-" I said impulsively, "-how do you deal with a world of growing Bluetooth technology where the headphone jack is no longer a viable audio source?"

Kyoka's blank gaze was largely unsettling. "Well that's kinda out of the blue."

"I'm sorry if that was rude. I was just curious since... you know," I gestured towards her ears, "plus I still use wire headphones while everyone else upgrades to Bluetooth ones even though I think they're way more inconvenient and don't really work with older technology and-" Kyoka leaned back into her chair and crossed her arms. "-I'm sorry, did I offend you or something?"

"What?" she said, turning back towards me.

"I don't know, you look mad at me. Did I say something wrong? If it's about your ears, I don't think they're weird or anything." Great job, Blake. Shove that foot further into your mouth, why don't cha?

"Don't mind her. She's just mad because I said you've got nice legs," Kaminari said after taking another swig of his beer. Before I could even process this, Kyoka's earlobes jammed themselves into his ears, causing him to let out a cry of pain before collapsing onto the table.

"Is he okay?" I asked, concerned by the trails of blood that were starting to leak out of his ears.

"Don't worry about him. The idiot always bounces back fast," Bakugou remarked with a dark smirk.

"...Okay then." I pressed my lips together and turned back towards the manic pixie dream girl. "If it's any consolation, Kyoka, I think you're way prettier than me. I love the whole sine-wave thing you got going on with your pixie cut. I know I could never pull off short hair like that."

"...Thanks," she said, finally allowing herself to show traces of a small smile. "I go by Jirou for most people, by the way."

"Oh sorry. I just assumed Kyoka was your last name," I scratched the side of my cheek. "So uhh... do you find the output of audio is still as good with your ears or does it come out as wavy sometimes?"

"Good question. I don't think anyone's ever asked me that before- well, maybe outside of Midoriya. Basically, it has it's challenges, but most of the time I can find a way to pick up vibrations because it's a direct line to my ear, though they might be a bit more muted. Thankfully, I get a decent sound quality at around 40,000 HZ, so it doesn't affect my hero work by much." So she was a pro-hero too...

"Damn, that's some good hearing. No wonder you have such a solid soprano," I said, recalling how nice her singing voice was. "You have to have perfect pitch with that range."

"Thanks. You seem to know your stuff. Do have a sound Quirk as well?"

"Oh, no I don't have anything like that, but I have a music background."

"Really?"

"Sort of. Mostly I just play the violin and maybe some self-taught amateur piano by ear. My left-hand game is totally weak."

"You play the violin?" Izuku asked, having just finished his song to sit back down again beside me. What impeccable timing.

"Ever since I was six, though I didn't really get good until college."

"Wow! You're so talented."

I couldn't help but laugh at his enthusiasm. "Oh I'm really not. I haven't played in years, plus there are tons of people who are way better than me and put in much more effort than I ever did. I just play for fun." I took another swig from my water-bottle and turned back towards Jirou. "What about you? Do you play anything?"

"A little bit of everything you'd find in a rock band, though I prefer playing lead guitar."

"Bass? Acoustic? Electric?"

"Acoustic."

"Nice. I tried learning guitar, but six strings is too much for me to handle. I think I'll just stick with my four."

"Kyoka knows lots about music. I wouldn't know where to begin if I tried," the bubbly brunette mentioned before holding out a hand, "I'm Ochako Uraraka, by the way. Nice to meet you."

"I know. I've seen you on TV," I admitted with a bashful smile. "You're Uravity, right? I'm a huge fan."

"Oh wow, I had no idea. Thank you for all your support."

I reached out to take her hand but hesitated upon seeing the soft pads of her fingertips. "...I'm not going to float away if I shake your hand, am I?" I joked.

She giggled. "No, not this time."

"So there will be other times?" I teased before shaking the small hand that barely wrapped around mine. It was so dainty, it was hard to believe that it belonged to a girl I had seen flip a two hundred pound dude more than twice her size over her shoulder on TV a week ago. Don't ask her about Ground Zero. Don't ask her about Ground Zero, I reminded myself before abruptly changing my question to something more tame. "So uhh how do you know Izuku?" Nice dodge.

"We actually met during high school. I stopped him from falling with my Quirk on our way to the entrance exam and we've been friends ever since."

"Aww that's so cute," I gushed, causing Izuku to awkwardly rub the back of his neck. "Is that how you met Ground Zero as well?" Damn it, you just couldn't help yourself, could you?

"Not exactly. I met him on our first day at UA in class when he tried to kill Deku for beating his record at the ball throw. Are you a fan of his too?"

"A bit," I admitted, trying to avoid his gaze at what was no doubt a smug expression. "I like using his hero costume for drawing references. You can really see the explosive personality behind the design." I flashed Bakugou a coy smile before I felt my phone buzz in my pocket and saw the message had come from Jo-Elle.

Watch how long you talk to everyone. You are oversharing and totally ignoring Izuku right now.
And stop flirting with Ground Zero!

I am NOT! I'm just trying to have a normal conversation.

Okay, but like save some of it for Izuku. And lay off the personal questions.

I will when they stop asking them!

Seriously, Alyssa, you need to chill.

Fine. You take over then.

"You know, your Japanese is really good. How long have you been here?" Uraraka asked.

"We've been here for almost a year now, I think, but I studied it way before we came here."

"What brings you to Japan? Are you here for college?"

Rather than answer, I referred to Jo-Elle, who chose in that moment to declare loudly, after the music had stopped, in formal Japanese, "We are here for Mother. Mother has glioblastoma." Suddenly, all eyes in the room were on us. Most were filled with looks of shock and pity, but the one I couldn't stand the most was Izuku's. His wide green eyes shimmered with unshed tears and hurt.

Shit.

"What's a 'glioblastoma'?" Kaminari asked, appearing the most confused of all.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

"It's brain cancer," Bakugou spoke up, breaking the heavy atmosphere. "Show some tact, Dunce Face."

"Uh yeah that's like the pot calling the kettle black."

"I'm so sorry..." Uraraka said sympathetically.

"It's fine," I said, hoping that the earth would just swallow me whole. Maybe if I acted casual enough about it, they would drop it and not be crushed by the anvil the 'C' word always seemed to drop on most conversations. "Mom's had it for years. She's fine. It barely affects us." Lies. Lies. All lies.

"I didn't know your mom had cancer..." Izuku's voice was soft and expression pensive, like he was holding a baby bird that had fallen out of the nest. It was so... unnecessary and I wasn't here for it.

"Umm well... it's a bit of a conversation killer, and I didn't want to receive any sympathy for it when it's been years since she was diagnosed," I explained with a touch of embarrassment. This wasn't how I wanted to do this. I didn't want this, all this pity and quiet caused by unsaid questions and responses I had heard a hundred times. "Seriously, it's fine. She's in remission and is coming up on her fourth year of life, well past the normal survival rate. That's why we're here. She's part of the lucky five percent who live past three years so she's looking at other experimental options for treatment."

Todoroki was the first to break the silence. "I'm sorry to hear you're going through this. It's difficult dealing with a parent being in and out of the hospital all the time," Todoroki said with cool sympathy.

"Thanks." Once I repeated this message back to Jo-Elle, I could feel her soften next to me, her gaze lowering shyly towards the table. "Thank you very much," was her reply before she avoided his bi-colored gaze. Upon looking at both of them, I realized, they both had two-toned eyes, though Jo-Elle's was much more subtle than his. He was also only an inch shorter than her. They looked good together.

While I thought of other ways they complimented each other, I felt something graze against the side of my hand. I looked down and felt my face grow hot in an instant when I saw Izuku's hand resting next to mine. Oh my god, he's touching my hand! Alarm bells rang inside my head as Izuku's fingers rested on the seat in a way that his hand barely overlapped mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. Overwhelmed by the sensation and the excited fluttering in my chest from the unexpected affection, something I was not accustomed to, I panicked and pulled away, resting my hand on my lap and cradling it tightly with my other hand. I fought hard to not meet the hurt gaze that followed. "A-Anyways, enough about that! Jirou, you're supposed to sing next, right?"

"Why don't you two girls go next?" Mina suggested.

"Oh no, it's fine. I don't want to impose. I think Jirou was ahead of me anyways."

"I don't mind waiting."

"Really it's okay."

"I'll go then," Jo-Elle cheered before standing up. "(Hey Alyssa, come over here and help me. I need you to read the kanji for me.)"

I shuffled past Izuku, nearly tripping over his leg as I felt his gaze on me like twin hot needles digging into my flesh. "Sorry," I said on reflex, feeling my stomach start to twist and give me a different reason to be nervous. Calm down, damn it! You haven't even eaten anything yet. There is no reason for you to be upset.

"(Can you see if 'Into the Unknown' is on the set list?)" Jo-Elle asked after I picked up the tablet.

"(Sure)," I ignored the looks of pity no doubt everyone was wearing and focused my attention on the task at hand. Disney. Disney should be safe. Japan loved Disney, especially Frozen. I had already scrolled past at least three different versions of 'Let It Go' in the last minute alone. This should be easy. While I tried to remember the correct symbols for the English words to my sister's favorite Disney song, I muttered darkly, "(Thanks for telling everyone about Mom's cancer, by the way. Great way of not taking this to a personal place.)"

"(You mean you didn't tell him?)"

"(No! There was never a good time.)" I snapped. All of the Japanese characters looked like mindless gibberish to me. Why couldn't I find Jo-Elle's song? "(Now everyone's bummed out and doing us favors. See this is why I didn't tell Iz- Freckles about the cancer. I feel like we're taking advantage of everyone.)"

"(They're just being nice. Besides, how was I supposed to know you hadn't told him?)" Jo-Elle defended before grabbing my hand which had already begun to shake. "(Okay, you need to calm down.)"

"(I am calm!)"

Her grip only tightened, forcing me to look into her fierce hazel eyes. "(Just breathe. Just focus on the music.)" I took a deep breathe, held for six seconds, and let out for seven.

Jo-Elle then tapped the code on the screen I had pulled up and hit Send. The TV screen then switched to a more crystalline backdrop as the first few notes from the song began to play, a lone piano playing a soft melody that was light and full of wistful melancholy. I waited for the vocalizations AURORA was supposed to sing as The Voice from the movie and frowned at how wrong it sounded when they never came. Did I choose the wrong song? No, it had to be the right version- it was just full orchestration without AURORA to back it. I wrinkled my nose. It only had one person singing, but it was technically a duet, a song where Elsa was having a conversation with herself. Not having The Voice singing back to Elsa made the song feel like it had lost half the magic. Jo-Elle continued anyways, not missing a beat as she sang the opening lyrics.

"...There's a thousand reasons I should go about my day,
And ignore your whispers which I wish would go away, ohhh..."

Unable to resist the siren's call, I softly crooned AURORA's operatic notes in response, feeling my voice crack from the pitch and weak volume before I sang a little louder. Judging from her smile, I had a sneaking suspicion that Jo-Elle had chosen this song specifically for that very reason of being a confidence booster. If she wanted silence during the song, she would've said so, and the fact that Jo-Elle wasn't giving me a death glare right now for stealing her moment was further proof of this.

I wanted to be mad that she had manipulated me into singing, but it worked. Music was one of the few ways I could express myself with no miscommunication, and participating in a duet with someone was like having a conversation. Suddenly I was back in the car at Enterprise, singing show-tunes on the radio at the top of our lungs. Growing more confident with the swell of the notes, our eyes locked as the song began reaching its climax, the notes intermingling in a golden sound full of harmony. I was home.

"Where are you going? Don't leave me alone, How do I follow you..." I took a deep breathe and pitched the final note, a high octave A note that required clean and clear intonation. I nailed it in one try. The room was quiet before the clapping began followed by a few whistles and whoops.

"(And that is the perfect time for me to take my leave.)" Jo-Elle added.

"(You're leaving already?)"

"(You don't need me here. Besides, I stayed way longer than I was planning.)"

"Okay," I said before turning towards the group. "Jo-Elle has to go now. She has a Tinder date she needs to get to."

"Aww what? No encore?" Kirishima asked.

"Not today, sorry."

"Goodbye," Jo-Elle waved as everyone said their goodbyes. "Thank you for having me."

"Wait!" Todoroki stood up, scribbled something on a napkin and gave it to her. "This is what you wanted, right?" Jo-Elle paled, looking like she was in a stupor. In her hand was a small signature- Shoto's signature. He gave her his autograph? Why would he-? I thought, a lightbulb going off.

He heard everything.

"Oh. For a second there, I thought you were going to give her your number," I let out a shaky laugh.

"Do you want it?" he asked, oblivious to Jo-Elle's internal panic.

"Are you serious?" I blinked. "I think you might kill her if you did."

"Kill her?!" he said, suddenly looking concerned and making me question if I had said the right thing in Japanese. "That was not my intention."

"Ignore her! Thank you very much for..." Jo-Elle snapped, trailing off as she tried to find the right word, "...name."

"You mean 'autograph,'" I corrected.

"(Whatever!) Thank you very much. Goodbye!" And like that, she was gone and I was left alone to pick up the mess. Thankfully, I didn't have to be pressured into staying up here to sing as the door opened with waiters bringing in a cart of food.

Oh no, the food is here. Such a shame, I thought sarcastically before deciding to sit down. I could think of a song while everyone else ate. I leaned back into my seat with a sigh and listened as Jirou stood up to sing again instead. She really did have a nice voice. Who could compete with that?

"You sounded beautiful," Izuku complimented before spooning in a mouthful of miso soup.

"Thank you," I beamed, shyly tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "The Blake sisters are known far and wide for their duets." Why was everything so hot? The food I had been craving since I saw the pictures before now smelled greasy and fattening, causing my stomach to twist uncomfortably at the stench. Oh no... Not here! Not now! I panicked internally, feeling my anxiety skyrocket. Calm down, Blake. It's fine! Maybe it won't be as bad as you think. Who knows? Maybe you won't even be in there that long and everything would be fine. Another wave of sickness hit, causing a nauseous sweat to break out on my forehead.

"Excuse me," I said as I tried to slip through the booth towards the restroom. In my urgency to leave, I failed to realize that my foot had hooked the underside of Izuku's calf. It all happened so fast, but in my head everything seemed to be moving in slow motion- tripping over Izuku, landing on top of him as my heavy weight slammed against him, our eyes locking in a fearful embarrassed panic. Then came the slow seconds afterwards of the table gradually tilting over before several drinks and plates of food slid off the side and toppled on top of me and the other patrons on the other side of the table.

Mortified did not begin to describe the emotion I was feeling. Lying flat across Izuku's lap with my body splayed out on top of him as beer, sake, and other miscellaneous drinks and food dripped onto my back and side, I was so fearful and flustered that for a split second, I mentally checked out and thought I had actually died. Then I wished I was dead. I scrambled off of him, trying to keep the fried food from landing on top of him and smearing it into the fabric of his clothes more.

"OhmygodI'msorry!I'msosorry!" I said in a rush, feeling so hot and humiliated that I felt like crying right then and there. I looked around at the shocked faces at the table of everyone I had spilled their food. Each face had varying degrees of shock or irritation. Bakugou's face in particular was a mixture of both, caught somewhere between stunned and enraged, like he was seconds away from yelling. "I'm sorry! Sorry! Ohmygod, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to!"

I started grabbing napkins and forcing them to blot anything that dripped, feeling worse with each discarded napkin. Before I could soak up anything more, my stomach cramped again, calling louder and with more urgency. This time I was unable to deny it any longer. "I... I'm so sorry!" I shouted and fled towards the exit. My first instinct was right. I should have just stayed home.


Author's Note: References today are Jabba's Palace (Jabakyuuden) from Star Wars, Kirby, "Sarazanmai no Uta" from Sarazanmai!, "Into the Unknown" from Frozen II, and "Oath/Don't Think Twice" from Kingdom Hearts III. God, I have been wanting to spit out this chapter for forever! This was a freaking monster to write!

Fun Fact: the headband Kirishima was wearing is a headband that is supposed to invoke the Japanese spirit (and keep the sweat out of your face). His is the twisted variety.