It is scary how easy heroes could do villainous things.

Like completely stripping you of your consent. Well, you will be soon stripping of your clothes, so why not start with consent? Maybe it was another one of their training? You doubted it. You tried to convince yourself that they were now treating you as a sidekick, since you were now the official-unofficial spy for this secret infiltration mission. And heroes don't stop for their sidekick's consent before sending them into fight, right? You volunteered, you signed for this. But you could not help feeling you were not treated like a sidekick. You were still sheltered from the higher motives and moves. You still did not have all the cards or infos. Obviously, since you were to be collecting information. But whatever they had now, your were not privy to it. They seemed to forget you were a data analyst and as such, knew or even felt, at some sort of instinct degree, they were hiding bits and pieces. Yet expected to obey, in silence.

Well, they got the silence part wrong.

Funny how Bakugō could be deafening half of Japan in a daily basis when he was hurling insults but you were scolded when vocally expressing your disagreement.

It is scary how easy heroes could do villainous things.

Like when they decided to complete erase you from the society. From the moment the meeting ended with "Ageha" approved, they tried to make you stay in the shady building chosen for the secret meeting. You since gathered it was previously the HQ of a team of low key villains Dynamight busted a few months ago. The investigation had just been cleared but the place was still on police hold, until the trial. No one would be able to link any of the heroes to this rundown spot. It used to be a condo complex for middle class, until the Great War badly damaged the area. The neighbour used to be one for the Heteromorph population. One of the first to be targeted by hate and racism and despite the national reconstruction program launched after the tragic events, still not rehabilitated. Loathing was a tenacious witch.

You had no issue staying here. Less than four years ago, you used to live in similar places. You had no issue with "not human" quirks. It would be hypocrite of you, considering your own abilities – or lack of, if you wanted to be honestly precise. You always fit rather nicely with the community. So yeah, this place was not the issue, especially now it has been remodelled so you had your own private gym.

But you could not accept to be told "stay"... like a puppy – you would have said "bitch" if you had felt any sexism behind their behaviour, but it had nothing to do with your sex, only your lack of pro-hero status. No, you would not bend to their will, just because they had one... without some teeth and barking, and not without good reasons. You needed some of your personal items, if you were to live recluse for some unknown time while preparing for the mission. And you needed some of your old stuff, to prepare for this mission. So after some serious bickering, Kaminari-san drove you in the middle of the night to your flat and carried your luggages back to "here"… to "home". Then and only then you allowed them to remove you from civilisation.

This meant you lost your flat. All your remaining belongings had been packed and stored by professionals. Your lease broken. Deku had a "friend" hacking into the national database to remove your real identity from the official networks. Whoever you were, whatever little you were, was no longer. All your hard work, your financial independence, your jobs, your uni scores, even your health records. "Temporary" closed.

They said it was to get you into condition, so you merged with your new identity. Difficult to be yourself and Ageha in the same time. You might be able to strip and pole dance but you were no actress. And this was the role of your life. You could not mess this up. You understood the principle and the use of a boot camp, but to completely have you off the grid? So you could embrace your secret and new "you"? Who were they kidding? Once again, they were not telling you the truth, and they were stupid enough to think you would believe them or not dig deeper.

You knew they were operating without the Commission's approval, which means without the Police approval – though you were certain they still had inside contacts in both organisations. If something went wrong with the secret operation, they could all lose their pro-hero license. Of course, you highly doubted the Commission would strip seven of the top ten heroes of their ranks and troops. In fact, it was quite unfair you were the one risking the most. Not only your life, as literally risking it, between bullets, drugs and virus…. as well as being made un-alive on a file side of administrative paperwork... and what about returning to a "normal" administrative statut. Hell, if the officials got wind of the operation and shut it down, would Deku and his friend be able to restore your real identity?

Sometimes, you were a coward and decided fleeing was a rational decision. Some questions were best left unasked.

It is scary how easy heroes could do villainous things.

Like no one asking you if you wanted to have a microphone implanted behind your ear. You did not even know it was going to happen until it happened. You were studying the Velvet Rose employees profiles with Kamui Woods and Chargebolt when Endeavour came and nearly plucked you out of your chair, barely telling your teachers of the hour that you were needed. Not asking you if you would be free for a two hours surgery. He just mentioned to follow him – you did – through this invisible door leading to his office. All the heroes had one made, curtsy of one of Kamui's sidekick who had the quirk to create doors acting as portals between places far apart. Hawks, whose HQ was on the distant island of Kyushu, only had to find the concealed door knob to be a step away from this abandoned office in central Tokyo that was now your new home and base of operation. The sidekick did not ask questions either.

The silence was golden here, right?

Like the former number one hero's office. Sparkling, shining, a testimony of his former glory. Not so former, in fact. While he was now at the ninth spot, he still had power and a powerful team. The fact that Mei Hatsume was still working for him was a proof of his current status. She practically bounced on you as soon as you step in, babbling about her baby. Or babies, in plural, as she showed you the metal tray where the instruments and devises lay.

- "Wait!" You waved your hands in front of you. "What…. And where?"

- "Oh, just a small incision right behind your ear." She touched you as if it was nothing. "Don't worry, you'll heal is a minute. I got this baby that just stitch minor wounds back and not even a scar. Well, maybe a small one, but not one would know. Yeah, really don't worry."

But you did. A lot.

- "Wait!" You had to stop her again, because she was already dabbing antiseptic on your skin, as if all was good. "How does this work?"

- "All you hear, they'll hear." She pushed her head towards Endeavour, who was sitting at his desk filling some sort of paperwork, as if it was completely normal to have a nearly complete stranger having a listening device implanted nearby her brain in his office. Well, it may be the case and it was even more scary. "I think they'll record it. I don't know. I don't bother with these details." Mei added with a shrug of shoulders. Past the technical aspect of the project, she did not care a bit.

- "What? They hear it? Like…. Everything?"

- "Everything!" She reassured me with a huge smile. "Probably get a better sound that you. Should cover a full 360° for about five meters." You were not feeling reassured. Not one bit.

- "But…. But….What about...when I am in a shower?" Or more embarrassing situations, of course.

- "Just cut the sound." Hatsume-san flatly answered, readying the needle for local anaesthesia.

Yeah, sure. Why did you not think about this? Just cut the sound.

- "How do I cut the sound?" The sarcasm was completely lost on her. If she was not a genius, you would bitch about all the brain matter having gone into her boobs, but you knew she had won enough awards at only 28 years old to put old geezers to shame. You jealous? Oh yeah. Rumours had her involved with pro-hero Ingenium. You did not completely trust rumours, but who ever was with her was a lucky guy. You wished you had her curves!

- "Oh, you press your thumb like this, then here." She answered as if she was commenting the weather. "It is not a move you naturally do, but it does look natural enough not to draw attention. Then you do it again to reactivate the sound."

Yeah, sure. Easy. You repeated the move as she drabbled about nerves attachment and all it was connected to, but this was way above your science high-school class so it all went over you as if she was speaking a foreign language. However, you had a dry chuckle when she started lamenting about how Endeavour and co refused to have one of your eyes replaced by a prothesis equipped with a camera.

Apparently, you needed to be thankful, at the upmost gratitude ever, that they did you such a solid favour. Like, who would not want to have a mini cam in their eyes? How stupid of you to want to keep your private life, private.

It is scary how easy heroes could do villainous things.

Like how Shōto nearly casually handed you a fake ID card a few days after the fateful meeting, as if it was nothing. You took it with disbelieved, looking at how well-worn the little plastic card looked, and not just fresh out of an illegal press.

Your new identity was now tangible. Sakamoto Ageha – Ageha being a play on words on the butterfly quirk theme, since the name literally meant butterfly. It was written on the fake ID, and while it was your photo, it looked so… strange. Yet, totally official. It felt like you were really disappearing. It was not just your lease or your scores. You were no longer "you". At least, the "you" you have been for the past three years. The one with dark hair and dark eyes. Maybe this brunette "you" was the false one, after all. You had been 23 last time you looked at yourself, your true self, before starting your job with the Squad. You never expected to done again your natural hair and eye colours on the open like this any more. Somehow the little photo was not you. Not totally. Honestly, not the "you" you wanted to be. The one you have worked so hard to become.

You have lost all trace of whoever you were at that time. Back then, despite being a pro dancer, you still had some remaining baby fat, even if the shadows under your eyes proved you were not having naps and full nights. You since have traded a pole dancing-financing-studies-but-no-much-cash-after lifestyle for a 9-to-5-behind-the-screen-serious-secretary daily life. The responsibility of your job, the fact you had a stable income, with a rather stable timetable, allowing you to take at least a meal a day, and to come home to a what was really a tiny studio but was nothing but just your home… it gave you a more mature look. It was not the way you dressed or styled your hair – though you did totally rocked the hot secretary look. It was this new light in your eyes, the way you did not have to lift your chin up all the time, having to show people that you were not ashamed of your look, your job. You had find a sort of inner peace through your value as a colleague, a friend, a productive member of the society. This was the real "you". And Sakamoto Ageha, with this hair, and this pair of eyes…. She had none of this.

And she was not asked to. The more you worked on Ageha, the more you realised she had to be less. Less of everything. Less intelligent to start with. Less capable at any aspect of life. Less mature. Less independent. Less proud. Ageha was to be a meek little thing that did not attract attention past her body and her ability to twirl around a pole while shading clothes in an enticing manners. Or so you were told to. You smirked at the heroes in front of you. If this was not a source of pride, what would be one? They acted like they did not understand. So you led them to the former unit transformed into a gym room for you to regain the level of fitness necessary for the mission, and in what used to be the living room, the pole. And you challenged them, to be sexy and graceful while humping the metal barre and while stripping. Yeah, multitasking is a bitch. Deal with it.

Funnily, Shōto was the first to try.

You confessed he was the one you had the most difficulties reading or even interacting with. Endeavour and Kamui Woods were older and played the experienced hero card to put a barrier between you. They were not to become your friends. They did not want to know you, just work with you. Fine by you. Kaminari-san, you already got him. Deku and Dynamight were easy to figure out, even if one of them was more talkative and approachable – guess who? Hawks was never really here, since he was busy at Kyushu. And you had gathered way before the mission that "Hawks" was just a persona, not his real personality. Shōto, however, was still a mystery. He appeared as lacking common sense and a lot of other senses, especially more the sense of humour and second degree sense – not the mention the third one. However, the more you spoke to him, the more you gathered he was also using this clueless poker face and that he was way more aware of how to be a human and not a robot than he gave out. And the guy was curious. He would try everything, including Bakugō's super spicy ramen, though he lived to regret this audacity – and Bakugō would never let him forget how he kind of chocked to death with only eating noodles. So yeah, Shōto gave a try at pole dancing.

- "You need to be…. Less rigid. Strength is necessary, but this is dancing." You instructed after he managed to lift his body and even do the flag figure. Impressive, but not in your go-go dancer POV. "And once you got the dancing part… make it sexy. And then you strip. And make it sexy."

He put a foot down and blinked twice, contemplating the pole then you with a calm face and a soft sigh.

- "Then I have to accept my defeat. I don't think sexy is something I can conjure." He blankly stated. You could swear you heard a pout in his voice none the less. You wanted to tell him sexy was not something to summon, but to be, but you decided this would be conversation for another time.

So whoever Ageha was, she was not supposed to be anything too much and even less to think she could be anything. How disappointing. You understood it was to protect you, not to attract attention if you were to be too inquisitive or pushing with your investigation. Who would suspect someone pretty and clearly empty-headed? Shōto had a thin smile at this moment and you got this moment of revelation, like Heavens opening the gilded gates to shower you with light and universal comprehension. This guy? A sneaky bastard. That's it. Shōto was not to be trusted, whatsoever! And to be happy, the world needed to be much more like Shōto. To be happy, one needs to look like a blank canvas with a cute little firefly lazily drawing 8-figure patterns between theirs ears. Then you could do whatever behind turned backs. No one would suspect stupid-and-pretty capable of doing this or that. And the saying was clearly stating, better forgiveness than permission, so who were you to discuss the elders' wisdom?

You did not rebel out of a childish whim. You had no issue being given orders, and you did intend to follow every instructions and advices given to you. Yet... You had this guts feeling they were going the wrong way about this. Not only they did not give you all the info, but they had no idea what working at the Velvet Rose meant. Heroes never got the mud to stick to their boots. They would always come clean at some point… that if they stayed long enough in the ground to get mud on their soles. No, you had to think about the mission and how to best approach the goal : becoming a dancer for whoever was extra-VIP and entered the infamous private rooms, behind the black doors.

The Velvet Rose was really a world of its own. Most employees were lived-in, staying at rooms in the complex adjacent to the cabaret. They would eat in collective canteen and be available for all sort of tasks, cleaning or repairing, inventory for the bar, background and costume work, show rehearsal and all that shit. Of course, the pay was lowered to cover the rent, but in today's economy, many young and less young people were happy to have a job and a semi-decent place to live. It did not really matter they had to share their life with co-workers. To be living in a close sphere. To be in something alike of a prison, even if the selling pitch was more argumentative about being "part of the family", or "loving your job as you love going home". Since the Velvet was open from 3 in the afternoon until 5 in the morning, there was a constant need for crews managing the stage, the bar, and the rooms, in a rotation of timetables. So the solution offered to live on-site seemed profitable. It just made things way easier for the Villains to hide their actions through the mass.

The dancers were part of this big circus, and were the critical resource. No gogo dancer, no show, no cabaret. And the Velvet was doing things at grand level, for it has three stages. The first one, the big one, was opened for all and any, as long as you were adult – or had a fake ID that said so – and able to pay the rather hefty entrance fee. Behind this one, there was the "Pink Room", separated by heavy pink velvet curtains, and this was a VIP section. This was the origin of the cabaret name: the Velvet Rose (room). It could sit around 20 to 30 people along the smaller stage and round tables, with another special area, a platform with some very comfy sofas for 4 to 6 guys. One needed to make reservations weeks in advance or be ready to splurge on drinks and tips. Six dancers, all girls, were to entrain the lucky ones. They would also offer lap dance – no sexual services were clearly labelled, for The Velvet Rose wanted to remain a cabaret, but everyone knew it was possible. Like geisha of old times, this was especially onerous. One cannot just walked into the Pink Room, even less ask for a blowjob.

And behind the Pink Room, there were the terrible black doors. What happened behind them was the question. Who had access to this sacred yet unholy place? How did they get "on the list"? Only two girls from the selected six were allowed to follow the esteemed patrons, for what was certainly sex, drugs and other vices. Your goal was to become the seventh Pinkette, and the third Blackette.

Because of the VIP-isation at excess, the efforts towards an infiltration had been stalled. The heroes barely managed to get an informant the VIP access, and only for a few times. This informant was the only source of information at disposal. The security team enrolled by the Cabaret seemed to have a knack for sniffing out "moles", even from the first room. Looking back, this was fishy enough. A cabaret could carry out the vetting at its entrance, based on a dress code, age, sex and such. But nearly every time a hero or one of his contact tried to get into the club, they were refused access. Kamui Woods argued one of the bouncer had some of empathic or telepathic quirk, allowing him to sense the purpose of the visit. He may be correct. Why not?

It is scary how easy heroes could do villainous things.

Most of your training was either physical or spy oriented. You need to work up both your stamina and flexibility and for some reason, the heroes had decided you needed basic hand-to-hands combat. You preferred training with Deku or Kamui Woods, but Dynamight seemed to be your designated torturer, and he hold no punches. If you ever needed one more reason to hate him as much as admire him, here you go. It was nearly magnificent, this capacity of his to dedicate every single second of his time to make you feel inadequate yet completely at your place: at his feet, begging for mercy. You'd rather be focusing on the mission and tried as much as possible to escape working out when he was your trainer of the day. It was rather obvious but so far, it worked. Kaminari-san, blessed his soul, often took pity on you and as you discovered the dark face of Shotō, you managed to play him to get him to train you or skip. Sometimes, you could even swear you saw a shadow of a smile of both their lips, when you overdid yourself with the pretexts and all. Like…. Well done, welcome to the dark side of blowing Bakugō off.

On another hand, your head was so full you could do with some exercise, but you'd privilege running on the treadmill or Pilates, especially if said Shotō was to be next to you – it was not making it easier, just more enjoyable. What? A girl could enjoy the view! Indeed, you had to learn as much as you could about key members of the organisation. Their names, their quirks, the jobs they had at the Velvet Rose, the official and the non-official. The doubts the heroes had on them. Once again, the amount of details on each possible suspect those seven had gathered was concerning. You also have to memorise a long list of commands to relay crucial facts. They would be able to hear what you're hearing, but they would not see, and sometimes, you would need to comment, or pass intelligence as it happens, without the possibility or the time to find a place to be alone and to speak to them. So they had prepared keywords and sentences, for each possibility, and you had to remember and practice using them. It would be suspicious if you would suddenly declared out loud "this cucumber is not green enough." It would be efficient in transmitting a false alarm or lead, but what the fuck with you and whoever was in the room with you, right?

After a few days of not going out and spending 18h working out one way or another, you had enough. You needed a break, and to be away from all this testosterone. You need fresh air. You need a "you" time. Not Ageha time, or mission time, or whatever time they decided you had to be now. You were done with being treated like a middle school student going from class A, teacher X to class B, teacher Z.

- "Where you going?" Bakugō asked as you made your way to the door. "Nothing won't get you out of training today, you know?" His red eyes narrowed on you, and you could not stop grinning one ear to another.

- "To the doc. Can't make it. Not sorry." And you poke your tongue at him. Yeah, you still had a raging death wish.

- "Oh, you need a doc? We can have one come over, you know?" Deku was immediately concerned. He was a sweet soul, really. Honestly, it was a wonder how he survived being classmate with Bakugō. You would have bet the blond would have chewed him, digested him and pooped him back in a square turd, like a wombat, before the end of the first week of the first year – no kidding, wombats were vicious things. In your mind, they were Bakugō's totem animal.

- "Nope, I'm fine. I just fine some check-out before I disappear." You chirped with a reassuring smile.

- "Then I come with." Bakugō sighed, already tired at the simple idea of being with you without the possibility to beat your soul out of your body. Oh the sacrifice he was ready to make on the altar of security.

- "To the OB-GYN? If you want…." And back with one Cheshire Cat grin, and death wish number 2 of the day. One day, you'll pick the lucky number and actually die. Katsuki turned red, Izuku turned vermilion and Endeavour had a cough. Was he laughing or embarrassed, difficult to say.

- "I though you had a IUD?" And ten point for Slytherin. You felt like a muggle-born Hufflepuff ready to be devoured by the heir of the noble house of fucking Bakugō.

- "…. Like you know what a IUD is?" The really question was how do you even know this very private and intimate detail of my life when you remembered you had no life any more. And they clearly all knew about every single data about you, by heart. And since they had no shame with this, why would you have any. "If you must know, I need a pill to stop my periods, since you sure all know I have the contraceptive part cover."

- "Why?" You turned to Shotō who really asked the question like he really wanted the answer. Curiosity would kill the cat. He had his own death wish.

- "Because the only thing I can think of that is more uncomfortable than being an aspiring spying gogo dancer is being an aspiring spying gogo dancer with a tampon." You flatly told him. He nodded.

- "Make sense." He concluded after three seconds of pondering. "Well, I'll come with you."

Better him than Bakugō. You'd be ready to bet hot money the blond would scare half the patients in the waiting room and get the other half pregnant just by his look. The idea of a new generation of mini-Bakugō was terrifying. Shotō was no better, and though he would probably score 100% pregnancy by just breathing in the same room as any fertile woman, but you felt more at ease with him.

- "I did not consider this. I don't think any of us did." He told you as he started driving you to your appointment.

- "You are not the only ones, don't worry."

As a feminist, you had always wondered how so many books could be published while never mentioning the heroine having to deal with her periods, the need to pee or even shaving. They could master archery, ride horses for days, defeat the Dark Lord of Evil, without need a bathroom, ever, in 800-ish pages. Amazing!

At the clinic, you served the doctor a well-rehearsed lie about you going trekking in South America for a year, chasing butterflies – no joking. He did not care a bit. He just wrote the yearly prescription and cashed your fees without blinking. All together, you were in and out of his room within fifteen minutes top. So you guessed only three to six mini-Shotō had been generated by mere photosynthesis, but from the look of the woman in front of him, she would not mind having twins or triplets.

- "Aw, thank, bro, you are the best cousin ever." You cackled as you pulled him out, giving another white lie for the cause. What if someone was to tell that THE Todoroki Shotō was seen in a OB-GYN waiting room with an unknown woman? You did not want to be boxed-in into a spy mission for this shit show! You wanted to be out there, following every gossip while eating pop-corn with Kaminari-san at your side for some comments and bitching.

- "Don't worry, as long as I am the godfather, all is good." He calmly answered, and you giggled. Did you start to appreciate him? Yeah. So? "I guess it is back to HQ, then?" He asked as he turned towards the parking spot he let the car at.

- "Nope. More errands to run. But you can go. Really, it is going to bore you out."

- "Can't do. Security details and such. And it would save me from another comment from Bakugō about his noddles."

- "Oh, so I am saving your ass."

- "Exactly. You are my hero!" He gave you a smirk that would have made you pregnant if you did not have an IUD firmly implanted.

Turned out he did not mind shopping for teeny-weeny gogo dancer outfits or platform shoes or make-up or wings. He even had comments on them. You learned at the occasion that he hated bright yellow and that baby pink was not his colour, nor yours, when your tried coordinated faux fur faux silk peignoirs. And that he could walk with heels, but no stilettos, while he discovered that he could easily find heels for his foot size, thanks to the drag community. Well, once your explained to him the concept of drag. Now, of course, you offered to turn him into one, and he accepted, but only "to celebrate the mission success". This was his way to dodge out of it, but you'd swear it would happen. The success and the drag-transformation. Social media, better be ready because you'd be dropping a bomb soon.

The last part of the day was spent at a beauty saloon. You needed to undo your hair colour to go back your original style. You also booked a full body wax job. Ah, this was the part you clearly did not miss from your days as an exotic dancer. And, once again, Shotō surprised you. He had a haircut and his nails done while you were doing your own stuff. And you had to admit he was now just gorgeous with long hair passing down in waist – one of the hairdresser-in-training had the quirk to grow hair.

- "I am just trying it out." He explained to you as you ogled him, with your jaws falling to the level of 90 year old granny empty sockets boobs. "You look nice too. Is this your quirk manifestation?"

He took one twirl of your hair around his index and examined it. You were a total boring brunette before. Now your hair were a mix of purple and blue, all in rather flashy hues, like some of the most vibrant butterflies. And since you have been forced into letting go your "working you", you dropped the lenses too. Your compound eyes were not bulging like real insects, but your pupil of an electric neon violet was actually made of hundreds of panels. It did not give you any special capacities, only an excellent perception of colour and motion in a wide range. So yeah, this was how your butterfly quirk materialised. You did not lie when you told the heroes you would not mind having it gone. If anything, it was inconvenient for your every-day life. You looked like a freak, though you could not complain given how some Heteromorph had worst, far worst.

When you arrived at the HQ, the sun was starting to decline over the sky, the blue hues slowly turning orangey. It was beautiful. Maybe you could grab a beer and head for the roof, to look at the sunset. You had a feeling this was not something you would be able to do once at the Velvet Rose. You'd be working on stage at this hour, or preparing for your set. It was probably what scared you the most, right now: how you would lose your freedom. You were already losing "you", and once you would be living there, you would not be allowed to come and go as you pleased. And this was creepy.

But not as much as the welcome you got.

- "What happened, Shotō?" Deku's voice betrayed his anxiety for your late return. Shotō opened his mouth to answer as he entered the main area behind you, carrying most of your shopping – as the gentleman he was – when another voice chimed in.

- "What the hell, half-half?" He pointed towards the bags displaying the names and logos of cosmetic or lingerie boutique. But once again, the number 7 could not make a sound.

- "What the fuck, son?"

Shotō's hair was the talk of every gossipy show on TV for the next two days. You were not sure but you would say he quite enjoyed the attention. You knew he had have difficulties finding his own place, between his father and his deceased brother. Of course, he never blatantly admitted it. He just shrugged and said he took one for the team, to boost moral during this time of hardness when multiple heroes were injured. If people could focus on his new hair style instead of the gap in general civil security, fine by him.

And if it gave his father a heart attack, also very fine by him. All the heroes had been more stricken with his new hair than yours. Fine by you, really. You did not like speaking about your quirk, or lack of. Strangely enough, Deku was protective of you each time the subject was brought up. You could nearly palpate the inner story line everyone but you seemed to know about. Once again, they were putting you on the side here. You tried to reason yourself: you were not privy to the details of their past life. But the more they retained from you, the less included you felt. You wished you could say "more manipulated", but at this point, you were past this grief. It has started to become personal.

Then, they would opened up when you expected least. Somehow, two days after this day-off, you and Kaminari-san were busy braiding Shotō's newly long mane into a Viking hairdo – you got the white part, your boss tackling the red part, both following a video tuto – while Bakugō and Midoriya were quizzing you. You forgot that those four knew each other for more than thirteen years, starting a friendship as far back as high school. And being included into the light side exchange they got rolling between questions was as alien as you joining a multiple hero agency straight out of university. You felt out of place. You could not really accept that your reality was this now. Braiding a hero's hair while evading another's attempt to tickle you each time you got it wrong. Note to self, Kaminari-san was good at multi-tasking. You were not cast aside, but you were not friends with them. So, what were you to them?

- "For hell's sake! Don't get her unfocused!" The blond next to you expertly dodged whatever Bakugō launched at his face, which sent him toppling over Shotō, who was sitting in front of you. In order to avoid being the next target, with a higher chance to get hit, since you did not have Denki's reflexes, you quickly ransacked your memory.

- "Agashiro Junpei. 35. Barman, supervisor for the main stage bar. He does a lot of side works, like stock and security. Middle rank into the organisation. Quirk: changing colour of liquids by touch, very useful for a barman, and probably the only professional use he can have of it. No significant criminal records. No secret bank account. Target priority 1, because he could give us access to the pink room." You recited in one breath.

- "Yeah. Don't forget he is climbing ranks quickly, so he may be implicated." Katsuki put down the photo he was showing you. You nodded, committing the detail to memory. At this point of the investigation, it was complicated to separate the many employees between those you may know the truth, and those who just had the misfortune to have a job at a shitty place. Deku showed you another picture.

- "Tada Mami. 21, gogo-dancer. Quirk: can model cheese. One of the two Blackettes. She and Watanabe Ume – 29. Though, I am quite sure she is older than that, botox be damned. Quirk: create a pink smoke – are my ultra over the top priority. To befriend or to topple over. Watanabe is the star of the cabaret. She is more than probably involved, since she is here since the opening, and her quirk is another reference to the name of the Velvet Rose. No criminal records. Tada, we don't have proof, but let's assume she knows more than the normal employee. She is a drug addict, clean for the last 2 years, since she joined the Velvet Rose. The timing is suspicious for sure, especially since drugs are the key to the case."

- "I concur. Watanabe is probably a fake ID. None of us could prove it, but she is not who she says she is. Her past is too clean and vague to be honest." Shotō added with a conviction coming from his guts since there were not facts to build a profile upon. As a data analyst, you had difficulties just accepting such a declaration as face-value. But his "feelings" were probably more accurate than whatever info gathered through database and administrative combing. Not everyone could become a hero and those who did make a name for themselves had luck and instinct going for them, as much as a powerful and/or well-trained quirk.

Katsuki was reaching for another file when a door opened in the hallway of doors. Soon, Hawks came into view, hands in his pockets, letting his feathers floating around. You had gathered now he had total control on his feathers, so he did it not only for the show, but in order to assess his surroundings. But right now, you would be it was for the show, trying to impress or piss off his fellow younger colleagues. He stopped at the scene of you five sitting on the ground, and let a mocking smirk pull on his lips.

- "Literally braiding hair. How nice."

- "Yep, and doing a fine job at it." Denki answering him without missing a beat. "You are just jealous because our man here is going to take your place as the sexiest hero on Mademoiselle Magazine pool next month."

- "Oh, the pain, the pain… how will I survive such a demotion. I was just living for this awards, after all." Hawks dramatically put a hand on his heart and shoot a cloyed look thought half-open lid to his golden hair junior. Yet… Your analysis tended to contradict his words. He might not want the title, but he would not take so kindly to it being handed over to another. His ego needed to be fed on regular basis, like many other heroes.

You have not seen the Winged hero since the start of this mission. He had been busy with his own cases on his island, and as he worked closer than other heroes with the commission, he could not go off grid that easily. So you were taken aback when he extended his hand towards you and mentioned for you to get up and follow him.

- "My time to train you, Dove. Come on." You looked at your "teachers" but they just accepted the interruption. In fact, Deku was moving behind Shotō to take over you braiding – though, you would not guarantee the result. Hawk and you both had a glance towards Dynamight, expecting him to do something braiding related, but he just scowled even more strongly he usually did.

- "Ok… do I need to change, or something?" You asked as you trotted behind Hawks, wondering what sort of training you'd get from him. You were already equipped with enough instructors for combat and info gathering.

- "No, just you. After you…." He had opened the door to his office and was bowing down as he invited you to pass the threshold. "Boys, be good, I'll make sure to get her back for lunch tomorrow."

- "Wait! She's training with me on the morning!" Bakugō yelled from the living-room and you rolled your eyes. Don't you know it. "Better not get her late. She needs no excuse to miss another session."

- "Oh, then I won't apologise, dear number 2." He winked at you. You knew he was acting just to get a reaction from Bakugō. Since Hawks had been relegated to #3 rank, he had made his crusade to piss off Bakugō and Midoriya each time he could, for the "fun" of it. Izuku did not care while Katsuki did care too much. Hawks was not afraid to riled up the symbol of victory. He truly was a hero! At least, he was yours each time he got his kohai steaming from the ears. And if he was offering a free pass out of being turned into Bakugō's portable punching ball, yeah, you were ready to build an altar to worship him.

You had no time to really observer Hawks' office because he quickly spirited you away towards the balcony. Without leaving you the time to react, he scooped you into his arms and extended his wings. Impressive span, but right now you were more concerned by the distance between his feet and the floor. The huge distance. Your yelped and grabbed on his shoulders.

- "Oh? The butterfly is afraid flying?"

- "Deadly!"

He did not care. In fact, he laughed as he launched the both of you into the void. It felt like a glide more than a flight, but whatever it was, you hated every second of it. He landed quite quickly after, chuckling when he realised you would not let go of his shirt and jacket.

- "Come on, we have work to do." He said as he entered a room. You felt the change of atmosphere and the end of any sound as the French window closed behind you. You tripped on your feet as you were put down rather unceremoniously while you still had your eyes shut.

- "Hey! …. is… this a hotel room?"

- "A suite, please." You rolled your eyes. Sure, Hawks would not be satisfy with just a hotel room.

- "What do we need a suite for?"

- "A room would have sufficed, but I have a deal with the manager here. I know there is no hidden camera or else." He said as he lead you to a bedroom through a living-room bigger than Kaminari-san's office back at the agency. "Plus, I like having fun." You doubted you had to the same definition of fun.

- "You are still to tell me what you are doing here, training-wise. In a hotel. In a suite."

- "Well, I am going to have fun. You, you are going to hate me." He said with a huge smile, offering you a plain brown shopping back. You tried to pick into it, but he stopped you with a disapproving click of tongue. "No cheating." He sat on a sofa – you just realise the bedroom had a sofa. Why? Who needed a sofa in their room? If there was a sofa here, what was the point of the living-room in the suite? "Focus." He snapped his fingers. His voice had changed. Gone were the playful tones. "So, here the rules. You will go to the bathroom, open the bag, figure the mission out of it, and come back here to execute it. If you failed, that would be thirty push-up. Bomb boy is going to be happy."

- "Thirty?" You squeaked with your eyes wide open.

- "Don't fail, then."

- "Failing at what, exactly?" You gasped for air, totally lost.

- "At seducing me, of course."