By the time the interview ended, the sun had set.
However, that didn't seem to dampen Kamiko's demeanor.
True to his promise, Midoriya was waiting outside the interview room for her.
Her heart bloomed at the gesture.
He could have left, but he did not.
After that, she noticed his change in attire. When he had arrived earlier, he was in his hero costume. But now he was wearing a regular shirt, jeans, and jacket. Before she could ask inquire about the change, Midoriya spoke first.
"How did it go? Are you feeling better?"
Better did not even begin to encompass how she felt. "I think I might get selected," she replied, the joy radiating in her smile. "After the catastrophe of the instruments, I thought that everything was over. The one thing that I believed I would excel at was a failure. I had almost given up on the entire thing, until you came. Your piece … I played it. Then came the actual interview part. The part I was afraid of from the very start. Public speaking, speaking with strangers, or even just professional speaking … it feels so overwhelming. But the man was so kind and gentle about it. He praised my piano skills and my personality. Deep down, I think he said it from the heart."
Hearing that, Midoriya reciprocated her jubilation. "Then let's celebrate! Will you go out for dinner with me?"
"Squeak!"
Kamiko couldn't believe her ears. They perked straight up at the question, and her tail swished back and forth in a frenzy. Today was just full of surprises. Midoriya was the reason for all of them. The mate bond screamed at her to accept immediately. Her mind urged her not to be hasty. Her heart had stopped beating altogether, the dramatic little fool.
She needed a moment to regain her composure. Then, "Thank you for support and generosity, but it is getting late. I would have loved to have dinner with you, but I am sure you have your hero responsibilities calling to you. And I am not hungry."
Lies. Kamiko never imagined that her stomach would be her biggest traitor. No sooner had she said those words that her stomach become sentient and emitted the loudest and longest growl of her life. As if to call her a silly liar. She was. Blood flooded her cheeks, turning her russet fur even redder.
Midoriya grinned at her behavior. "Actually, my patrols are over for the day," he explained. "Look, I don't want to force you to join me. You have every right to say no. But I'm only inviting because I want to spend time with you. That day at the café, we didn't get a chance to converse properly. The other customers were giving us a hard time, and it was my fault that I didn't resolve the situation better. I want to make it up to you. Let's have an actual talk as friends this time at a restaurant where we won't be disturbed by racist remarks."
Now how was she supposed to refuse his offer when he said things like that? Time and time again he had proven himself to be a considerate and observant friend. Kamiko had never blamed him for what happened that evening, but the fact that he wanted to do right by her … the sentiment was truly endearing. Her face burnt.
"Besides, your stomach sounds like it hasn't had breakfast all day, either," he added jokingly.
This time, she did not feel embarrassed. Her giggles joined his laughs soon, and she accepted his invitation.
The restaurant Izuku had in mind was quite some distance away. Walking would have taken an hour, so he hailed a taxi outside the music school while Furukawa excused herself to use the restroom and inform her parents. When she returned, he saw the driver give her a vicious glare.
Before Furukawa could see, Izuku sidestepped into the driver's view. The driver's disgust quickly switched to fear as his eyes could not break away from Izuku's furrowed brows, contorted sneer, and burning rage in his eyes. How someone with the face of a cherub look this terrifying? But that was precisely the mistake his enemies made. This was the expression that appeared on his face every time he had combatted the League of Villains. Now this civilian was the next victim of that.
Usually, his livid face was a warning that in two seconds a concussion-inducing punch was about to follow. That did not happen this time. Izuku leaned forward a bit and muttered, "Say one word about her and I will make sure this is the last time you ever drive a car. Just take the money and do your job. Understood?"
Of course, Izuku would not abuse his status to force unemployment on a civilian. He was generous like that. But the driver did not need to know that. The threat worked. The car locks opened, and Izuku opened the door for Furukawa.
She was unaware of what had transpired. He wanted to keep it that way. Nothing was going to ruin this night.
This dinner was planned on impulse. After he exited the room of broken instruments, he could not forget the sight of her crying. He had seen that sight twice before - first time, the night he rescued her from that gang years ago; second time, during their disastrous café meeting. A part of him felt as though he was partially responsible for that. He became desperate to make it up to her. So while the remainder of the interview proceeded, Izuku scoured the internet like an intelligence agent, searching for the perfect spot for a meal.
The ride passed by in a blur. He and Furukawa got lost in conversation.
Without any prompting, Furukawa narrated how the room got trashed with plastic and paper debris before had arrived. "We started with the classical Japanese instruments first. I fared all right with the shakuhachi, since it has holes to press down on instead of keys, but the sound quality was not great. With the koto, my fingers got stuck between the wires. The sound of the taiko drums was so powerful, I had to droop my ears to soften the sound. Then he switched to Western instruments. And that was when my hope started diminishing. He handed me a flute. The longest one available. But after pressing down on a few keys, the instrument snapped in half. Then he gave me a trumpet, but I blew too hard on that and ended up breaking the valves. With the violin, viola, and cello, the wires snapped. Other instruments faced similar demises."
Izuku listened to her speak with an attentive ear. It did not go unnoticed that when she got lost in a memory, she never squeaked.
Before either of them realized it, they arrived at their destination. Izuku paid the driver in cash and with a cold glare of his own. The driver could not have sped away any sooner.
When he turned around, he heard Furukawa gasp.
Izuku had brought her to yakiniku-serving restaurant. Yakiniku was a Japanese style of cooking in high demand. Bite-size pieces of meat, vegetables, and seafood were cooked and seared on a gridiron on the dining table, then dipped in sauce before serving to customers. A personal chef was assigned to each table to prepare the meals.
He watched Furukawa's ears perk up once more and tail swish again, but he got the distinct feeling it was not because she was flustered. His suspicions were confirmed when she exclaimed, "This is wonderful! I've been living in this area for years, and I never knew about it! Where did you learn about this place?"
Of course, Izuku was not going to say he found it just a few hours ago. But he did not want to lie either. He was a terrible liar.
So he simply smiled and said, "Shall we?"
The instant Kamiko stepped inside, the wafts of a thousand scents permeated the air.
Foxes had a brilliant sense of smell. The fragrance of citrus fruits tickled the sensitive hairs of her nose. A sniff later, the aroma of soy sauce and mirin. In the far corner of the restaurant was the savor of sesame seeds, ginger, and garlic. None of this was in comparison to the cornucopia of meat in the hall. Soft, tender, juicy meat. The combination of scents was like a stress reliever. Her mouth salivated and stomach growled in anticipation. Her nose twitched before relaxing.
It was only after Midoriya called out her name did she snap back to her senses and followed him to their booth. It was also then that she realized that she did not have enough money to pay for the meal. Before she even opened the menu, she began to apologize. "Midoriya! I'm sorry! My purse - squeak - only has enough money for the bus fare and a snack. This place seems expensive. If it is all right with you, can we eat some place less fancy? Squeak! I promise to bring more money next time. Again, I'm sorry! Squeak!"
To her shock, he simply laughed.
"It's okay! This is my treat, so I'm going to pay! And if you're still worried about the price, this restaurant has a limited buffet-like option going on right now. So please don't hesitate on eating to your stomach's content."
"Okay," she murmured, feeling stupid now.
She opened the menu and scanned the section of meats and seafood. Beef, pork, chicken, lamb, and fish with all cuts and sizes were available. Foxes were omnivores, but their diet consisted primarily of meat. Kamiko, being a fox mutant, had a diet that was more or less the same. The sauce consisted of vegetables and spices, but it was incomplete without the signature meat.
Their chef arrived and Midoriya gave his order: strips of chicken and beef with a side of rice. After noticing the small size of the plates, Kamiko gave hers: all the meats with plenty of sauce and rice. Normally, she was not this ravenous, but because she had skipped breakfast and this was a buffet system … an exception could be made.
The chef got to work, cooking and serving three strips of meat per plate.
Meanwhile, Kamiko and Midoriya resumed their discussion. Inane topics such as favorite things, would you rather, and rapid fire became so much more interesting. Combined with the eruption of flavor that burst in Kamiko's mouth with every bite, she wished that this moment could last forever.
However, she did care when Midoriya remarked about her ears.
"It's cute that your ears have remained astutely up this entire time. I'm guessing this dinner is not a failure like last time," he grinned, hopefully.
Suddenly, she became of her surroundings. He was right, she realized. Not once had anyone made a nasty comment about her. Not even their chef, who was simply focused on roasting the slice of pork properly. All around, everyone minded their own business because there were a considerable number of patrons who were mutants like her. Even the number of plates she finished were at least ten times more than the meager snack she ate at the café. And her appetite was not yet satiated.
Feeling immensely touched, she whispered, "Thank you for such a wonderful evening, Midoriya. I do not know how to return the gesture."
"Knowing that you enjoyed this night is all the gratitude I need. Say, after we finish, how about we go to the local carnival. Get some dessert and play a game or two. Sound good?"
"Yes!"
The rest of the dinner passed amicably. By the time they finished, her stack of plates was three times taller than that of Midoriya's. But her stomach and mind still had plenty of space for delectable sugar.
The carnival was within walking distance, thank goodness.
Its lights lit up the place like a fireplace, promising joy and warmth all around.
Yet there is one thing that shines brighter than all the streetlamps of the carnival: Furukawa's smile. Izuku bought ice cream crêpes for himself and her. Although the vendor was willing to give them for free because he was the future Symbol of Peace, he paid the full amount for the sweets. The smile that Furukawa gave him when she saw that little action was bright, but the beam that bloomed on her face as she ate her crêpe was luminous.
The saddest people had the most beautiful smiles. During all his life, Eri had been the only proof he knew of this statement. Now there was another. For a moment, Izuku wished he had brought sunglasses. How could someone radiate so much happiness to turn night into day? But he was not complaining. He liked her happiness. It was contagious. If her raised ears and sashaying tail were anything to go by, his mission was accomplished.
It reminded him that while his goal to eliminate racism toward mutants was a long, treacherous path, there was hope. Like the workers and patrons of the restaurant, the people could learn to not resent those who did not look like them. Later, they could learn to embrace them.
He had always been an optimistic person. And seeing Furukawa only boosted his optimism.
So much so that when she said that she would like to give him a gift for tonight, he accepted readily. Two seconds later, he protested.
"N-n-no! Y-you don't have to do that!" His face burned. "I did this because I wanted to. I-I don't want anything in return."
But how could long could he deny her when her mind was set?
Only a few meters was a dart game where a contestant could take home any plushie of their choice if they hit seven balloons. Furukawa headed toward it with unwavering intent while Izuku followed. She paid from her own purse and took the darts. After three tries did she pop the first balloon. She paid the game vendor again. Four attempts later, the second balloon popped. Izuku tried to tell her out of it, saying that he was willing to take her place and pop the remaining balloons. But she was surprisingly adamant.
She said, "Today was the happiest day of my life, and you gave me that. So I want to do a little something for you too. Think of it as a memento of tonight. Anytime you look at it, you'll smile to yourself … because I don't want to forget this moment ever …" She looked away, feeling shy. "And I hope today is something you wish to remember, too."
How was he supposed to protest when her intentions were so sweet? Furukawa was such a considerate person. He believed her thoughtfulness to be a strength, not a weakness. So he laughed and let her do as she pleased. Even though her aim really sucked, the sentiment was touching. Finally, she hit the seven balloons. She asked him to choose his favorite animal.
Izuku inspected the assortment. Cats, tigers, lions for felines; pomeranians, golden retrievers, and poodles for dogs; unicorns, dragons, and griffins for mythical creatures. All of the plushies looked adorable, but none of them really spoke to him. Then his gaze fell on a copper and white animal with triangular ears. A red fox.
"That one, please," he told the game vendor as he pointed at the fox plushie.
Furukawa stared at him bemused. The unspoken question was apparent.
"What made tonight special was you, Furukawa. And whenever I remember this night, I will remember you. So the memento must be of you."
She squealed and squeaked incomprehensibly, much to his amusement.
Katsuki, on the other hand, was very much not amused.
He felt the urge to murder the broccoli boy grinning like a lunatic as he recounted the tale of himself and his date-not-date.
"She's amazing, you know," Izuku continued. "She even gave me this plushie!"
"And you're going to put it next to your collection of All Might merchandise, right?" Katsuki grumbled.
"Should I not?" At that, Katsuki launched an explosion at Izuku's face. He narrowly managed to avoid it. "What was that for?"
"That was for being a mega-idiot! You don't put presents from a real girl and fan goods in the same spot." Then he let out a frustrated sigh and grumbled, "Did you at least bring my drumsticks? I've been waiting for them all day!"
Izuku hurriedly pulled out a box and a carton. The box held the drumsticks, and the carton had roasted chicken breast. "I figured you would be angry, so I brought some spicy chicken."
"You're damn right, I'm mad! I don't get paid enough to deal with your love life!" But the prospect of a tasty dinner and a night spent raging with music was enough to not make him launch another blast.