Utsushimi Camie had only just started her second year… And around a month in, she had effectively wrecked her Hero costume. Of course, it was mostly a padded jumpsuit, but it was a high-quality one. The fact that it had its fair share of rips and tears was a pain, but now the heels of her boots had nearly been cracked through. It wasn't that she was procrastinating getting her costume repaired… Though, in her case, that might be untrue, but it was also because she couldn't find the time. Until it was too late. A nearly bad fall spelled the absolute need for repairs. So, after classes had passed and the final school bell rang, she made her way to the Support Course's workshop with it in her Hero-case.

It was a Saturday, meaning every student was clearing out for the welcomed break. This is why the halls were practically vacant with only the random group here and there. The path from the classrooms to the Support Course's workshop always felt off. After all, normally, there would be windows or glass doors to show the well-maintained quad and courtyard beyond. However, the halls towards the workshop grew more reinforced while windows became a thing of the past. It made sense, but that didn't stop her uneasiness.

The Support Course's heavy-duty doors were the tale-tell sign of her arrival. She looked to the light beside the entrance's frame. A light system that could switch from red to green, signifying whether or not it was occupied. It was green, so someone was inside. She nodded to herself before pushing on one of the doors. Luckily, it was unlocked, but, unluckily, it was as heavy as she remembered. She grunted as she pressed her hands against the door, "This is why I asked for help…" Her school-issued shoes gave way before the door. A sigh escaped her lips as she leaned against it.

Camie blinked as she heard music on the other side. She expected something like punk rock or metal but found that had a bit more of a bump to it. Not something to dance wildly over, but something to jam to. "Pretty loud…" – if she could hear it through the doors. Though, someone was definitely in there, so she had to get their attention. She looked about the frame once more and found a white button along the right side of the frame. She pressed her finger against the button a few times. She could hear the buzzing ring on the other side of the metal doors. It was a moment or two before the music turned down; it was another moment before the metal doors budged.

It was a guy that pushed the door. He opened it with a single arm before sticking out his foot to hold it there. He was about five centimeters taller than her. His face was hidden behind a decorated welder's mask that seemed happy to see her. The top half of his jumpsuit was tied around his waist, unveiling a tank-top on his torso. On his feet, he had a pair of red shoes that definitely weren't in line with the dress code.

He pulled up his mask, "Um, can I help you?" In turn, his freckled face was revealed—younger than her, no doubt. His eyes seemed… "H-Hello?"

She blinked before she brushed some of her locks from her face, smiling, "Sorry, I'm just here to put a request through."

"Oh, uh, the terminal's over there," he jerked his thumb towards the back of the room, shifting out of her way.

Camie nodded, "Right." She stepped past him, "Thanks for getting the door."

He nodded with a shrug, "No problem." Both left the door to swing shut. She moved to walk alongside the opposite side of the row of metal tables to him. He came to a stop before she did, sitting before a strange metal contraption. She continued until the end of the room, stopping at the terminal.

She tapped on the screen only for it to beep back at her with a red text box, "Huh?"

He held his mask up, "Oh, is it locked?"

"Yeah, looks it…" she grumbled. "What a pain."

He frowned slightly, "Ah, uh, sorry." He then rubbed the back of his neck, "You could leave your costume—for a repair, right? I'll just submit the request for you."

She shook her head, plopping herself on to a stool at the end of the row of tables, "Nah~, I did that once and my homeroom teacher, last year, scolded me for it. Shiketsu value and all that." She propped up her elbow and rested her cheek in her palm, "I shouldn't shove my burdens onto someone else."

"Even if they offer?" he questioned.

"Yeah…" She twirled a lock of her hair around a finger, "I get it. My costume is my responsibility. It's why I wanted till the end of school to handle it, so I can attend all of my classes. But then, one stupid lock is between me and doing it." She sighed, "It'll be a pain to do it tomorrow. Do you know if Mr. Masami will be back soon?"

"Mr. Masami?"

Camie blinked before clapping her hands together with a cheeky smile, "Oh, totes forgot, sorry. I mean Mr. Abraham." She commented, "Mr. Masami was the Support Course teacher last year."

"Oh, uh…" He scratched his cheek, "I think he'll be out for… a bit…" A shrug, "He didn't really say."

"Hm…" She sighed, shrugging herself, "I'll just wait then."

He brought his welding mask down, shrugging, "Oh, uh… Then, take any seat you like, I guess."

"Thanks," she smiled, plopping herself onto a stool.

Camie pulled her phone from her pocket, slipping onto the internet. Social media, articles, and more slipped across her screen. Captain Celebrity was climbing back up the ranks in the States, nearing the top ten. The Tokyo Sky Egg had been successfully rebuilt with dozens of new safety measures, but the grand re-opening's success was in question. There was a scandal or two, but she had already read those.

A frown graced her face when she saw another title: "Hero Killer Still at Large". It sent a shiver down her spine and squeezed her stomach. A villain targeting Heroes doesn't sound that crazy – in fact, the norm. But this was different. These Heroes were the ones on TV, doing commercials and talk shows. Their smiling faces were plastered all over the place: billboards and screens. Now, those same faces were in obituaries. These Heroes, role-models, were killed and left in alleyways and gutters.

"Are you okay?" A voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Hm?" Her smile was automatic as she drew her gaze upward across the tables. "Yeah, I'm totes okay." She fixed one of her bangs with a single hand, "Why?" She blinked, dipped into her bag, and brought out a pocket mirror, "Is there something on my face?"

"Uh… No…" He coughed, turning back to his work, "Nevermind…"

Camie tucked her mirror away before quickly whipping out her phone. "Guess I'm not okay… But I'm not going to be a drag around my Kouhai…" She left the articles of Heroes and celebrities, exchanging for fashion and make-up.

Though, after scrolling for another moment or two, her ear caught the sizzle and whirl of whatever he was working on. She couldn't help but look up to see the baton-thing in his hand. Sections and paneling extended from the handle, locking into place. Each movement was with a mechanical whirl and hiss before ending with click as the device locked into its length. It looked strange—almost ribbed. Silvery metal glittered in the light with a wave of his hand. His fingers tightened on the handle before the device slowly undid its work, shortening for easier carry.

There was a sigh – not a despairing kind but one of relief. He took the mask from his head, setting it aside on the table with a clunk. His slightly long, curly hair was unveiled in the process. A soft smile graced his face, satisfied. It wasn't much of an expression, but it was contagious in its own way. Maybe it was the fact that it was the first smile she spotted on him. Or the curly, soft-looking hair and freckles just went well with a smile to match. "Good for him…" she felt.

At least, until he activated it again. Instead of smoothly expanding like before, there was a pop of gas, the snap of metal, and the crack of an undone rivet. And then the tip of the baton-thing shot off like a bullet, bounced off the distant wall, and clattered to the floor. Needless to say, both students had nearly jumped out of their seats.

His lips pressed into a thin line once more, glaring at his handiwork.

"Poor guy…", she thought.

His gaze almost snapped to her, nearly making her heart jump from her chest. Luckily, the glare faded as his brow softened, seemingly unaffected by her stare, "Sorry about that… Are you okay?"

"Hm? Yeah, I'm fine," Camie waved off. She pushed a laugh, "That noise was cray, though."

She regretted saying that as he instantly deflated, shaking his head at himself, "Sorry." He stood, grumbling under his breath, "Another fail…"

"Another…", her mind echoed. That made sense. After all, he was staying after school to work on it. No doubt, he was sticking around for pointers or something on his project. "Poor guy…", was repeated.

She could barely catch his mutterings as he wandered to recover his metal, "Here I thought I was making progress… Where'd I go wrong? Gas pressure? It worked the first time… Maybe I just didn't secure something properly…" He grumbled to himself, looking over the debris, "Maybe you're just an idiot…"

Camie felt bad for him. Her eyes wandered over to the notes and papers that surrounded his workspace. After leaning to get a better look, she spotted the seemingly endless scribbles. The diagrams that were corrected and recorrected, first in purple then green. There were creases from the pressure of what seemed to be quick or furious erasing.

"I wish I had something to say…" she thought as she relaxed in her seat, tapping her lip. "I got no idea what to say to a Support Course student about this engineering stuff…"

He dropped the debris in his workspace before moving back onto his stool. His frown had faded as he seemed to reach the point of accepting his mistake. He moved the device to the side before looking over his notes once more.

She blinked, "Ah… I don't even know his name…" Her palm lightly smacked her forehead, "Dummy, how can I even help the guy if I don't even know his name…?" She coughed, catching his attention, "Hey, you're a first year, yeah?" She let out a laugh, "I would feel so dumb if I got that wrong."

"Well, um, you're right…" He obviously didn't know how to respond to that. Then a blink crossed his face, "Oh, uh, my name is Midoriya Izuku." He bowed in his seat, "Sorry for the late introduction. It's nice to meet you."

Camie smiled warmly, "Utsushimi Camie, I'm a second year." She propped up her elbow, resting her cheek in her palm, "How do you like Shiketsu? Are you new to the area?"

"Good… And yes. I moved here when the school year started."

"Ooh, did you hear about that new jazz-café that opened like two weeks ago?" she asked.

"B Flat, I've been there," he nodded.

"Ooh, is it good?"

Midoriya shrugged, "Good coffee, cake, music… It's pretty quiet." When he noticed that she expected more of an answer, he added, "I don't think it's any good for hanging out with… friends, but when you want to be alone."

She nodded, "I'll remember that." Her gaze drifted to the stereo atop a random shelf, "By the way, I like your taste in music."

"It's not mine," he explained. "It's…" -he trailed off, "It's one of my friend's." He shrugged, "It's his playlist. I'm just listening to it. Though, he'll be happy to know you like it, too."

Camie tilted her head, nodding in acknowledgement, "Hm." Her mind commented, "He has friends…? That's good…"

-XXX-

Midoriya Izuku wasn't sure what was going on. His Senpai, Utsushimi, was suddenly asking a lot of questions and starting up a long conversation. "Kaminari keeps starting up conversations himself too… But… Senpai was content with being quiet and not talking for a while… Now…"

Utsushimi asked, "So, why Shiketsu?"

Izuku blinked for a moment or two before he teetered his head, "Um…" He scratched at his cheek, and his gaze shot far away from her eyes, unintentionally. "No real reason, I guess," he offered, pushing a chuckle. Her eyes focused on him for a moment. "Caught the lie…", he thought.

Though, she didn't press, "So, know any of the first year Heroes?"

He slowly nodded, "I've seen a few around…" His mind finished, "Or rather, every day… during lunch…"

"Hear about that kid who got expelled?" she posed.

Izuku nodded, "Mineta, I think?"

"Know anything about that? No one seems to have the deets on what happened."

Izuku recalled further details, "That's because there's a media embargo, and no one's allowed to talk about it…" He shook his head, rubbing the back of his head, "No, not really."

"Eeh…?" she pouted. "Something spicy happens and no one knows anything…"

"One of the most prestigious schools in the country had to expel a peeping tom… I can practically see the gossip headlines about how the next generation of Heroes isn't as chalked up as the previous…"

They both blinked when the metal door creaked as it was pushed open, "Mr. Midoriya? Are you still in here?"

"Yes, I am, Mr. Abraham!" called Izuku.

Utsushimi turned to the entering teacher, examining the stranger to her. The man was in a dress shirt and slacks – nothing wacky or too odd to latch onto.

"I apologize for taking so long. Mr. Haimawari-" Mr. Abraham paused and blinked at the sight of the second year, "Ah, who's this?"

Senpai popped out of her seat, taking a casual bow, "Utsushimi Camie, second year, Hero Course."

He returned a nod in response, "Ms. Utsushimi," a polite smile, "may I ask why you are here?"

"I need to submit a request to repair my Hero costume, but…" She jerked her thumb towards the far end of the room, "Someone locked the terminal…"

Mr. Abraham blinked, "Ah, that's a fault on my part. I'll fix that, right now."

Izuku remained seated as his Senpai and teacher walked past. His gaze shifted to his workspace and then his personal items at his station. He then stood and quietly cleared said workspace.

"Why'd you lock it anyway?" pondered Utsushimi.

The Support student's prototype was tucked away in a drawer alongside the debris and leftover material.

Mr. Abraham chuckled, "To be honest, I don't even remember." He sighed as he stood before the terminal's screen, "God, that must make me seem old…"

Izuku properly filed away his welding mask before checking his bookbag for his uniform.

"You do look like a dad," jabbed Utsushimi, an obvious joking tone on her tongue.

Mr. Abraham laughed as he meddled with the terminal's settings, "I'm not sure how to feel about that."

Izuku's music went quiet as he took his personal speaker and unplugged his phone from it.

"There you are," said Mr. Abraham as he stepped aside. "May I ask you a question?"

-XXX-

Utsushimi Camie slipped into the empty space, swiping her student ID at the terminal, "Hm?"

"Do you know a lot about Field Support agents?" asked Mr. Abraham.

Her face contorted, "No, who're those?"

Mr. Abraham raised a brow, "What else? Support Course graduates that assist Heroes while they save lives." He chuckled, "That's a romantic way of putting it, now that I think about it."

"So, what, they build gadgets on the go?" concluded Camie as a panel below her slid open, allowing her to tuck her Hero costume within.

"That and more." Mr. Abraham explained, "Not every Hero knows the type of villain they face, and not every villain can be captured by handcuffs and bindings. They also provide technical support."

"That never came up." Camie tapped her lip, "Heck, I don't even remember any showing up during my internships."

Mr. Abraham sighed, "I believe it is a dying profession. After all, working for Support Companies offer many more rewards without the dangers."

"Okay, then how would I know?"

Another sigh, seemingly disappointed, "Hero History. Field Support agents grew from sidekicks before wide-spread unionization." He rubbed his chin, "I suppose lessons will have to be arranged for all classes…"

"Lessons?" echoed Camie.

"Nothing. Just a project endeavor for my students." He muttered, "I'll need to see if Field Support is an aspect in any of our lesson plans it seems…" He shook his head, "Well, no matter. It was a pleasure, Ms. Utsushimi. I presume you'll be taking your leave now?"

"Yep," she answered. "You heading out, too, Kouhai?" she asked as she turned to the empty workshop. "Eh?"

"Ah, seems Mr. Midoriya left." A proud wisp escaped his lips, "His station is perfectly cleared…"

Camie frowned, crossing her arms, "He left without saying goodbye."

"Hm, well, he is a quiet child." He commented, "Though, I admit I do worry about his lack of socializing."

Camie blinked, "Wait, he doesn't have any friends?"

As if he had revealed a secret, Mr. Abraham's eyes widened, "Ah! How absentminded of me. Please forget I said anything."

Camie murmured, "Yeah, sure…" as she thought to herself. A hum drummed from her lips before her hands settled on her hips. She then nodded to herself, moving to her bag and phone. With an exchange of farewells, Utsushimi Camie took her leave while she planned for tomorrow.

-\ XXX /-

AN: Howdy-howdy! Chapter 4, introducing Utsushimi Camie, woo! (Apologies for the short chapter) This chapter is entirely about her and establishing how she and Izuku meet. Completely and utterly by chance. Now, I'm going to address it before it pops up in a comment or review, is this the ship of the story. No/Maybe. I'm approaching romantic subplot differently for this story. I'm not going to seek out and push the romance into the story, but rather decide on whether or not it feels right at that time.

Beyond that, I will refrain from fully breaking down chapters from now on. I want the story to be enjoyed as is and to be judged as is. I realize by breaking everything down I kinda screw with the enjoyment of the story in another way.

Well, thank you for reading! Please give me your thoughts and I hope you stick around for the next one.

Update Window: Dec. 20th - 25th