Chapter 43: Close Your Mouth While Chewing and Dumpster Diving
"You ready kid?" Mirko asked as she performed some last minute stretches.
"As ready as I'll ever-"
Before I could finish my sentence, Mirko dipped into a pouncing stance and darted forward, her foot aimed directly for the center of my chest.
Slow and easy to read, which means she's holding back. Aw, she must actually like me.
Channeling ten percent, I waited until the last second before reaching out and grabbing Mirko by the ankle. Throttling my power output to five percent, I tossed her over my shoulder and into a dumpster, wincing slightly at the thunderous crash that rang out through the cramped alley she had chosen as our battleground. Turning to survey the aftermath, I felt my stomach drop at the sight before me. Whether I had misjudged my own power or the durability of the dumpster, the result was the same. Mirko had been sent through the thin metal wall and into the garbage within.
Okay, just stay cool, Izuku. You've fought a Nomu, you can handle this. Just stay-
Like something out of a horror movie, Mirko's hands emerged from within the dumpster to grab a hold of the exterior. The twisted metal strained under the force of her grip, and a moment later, my executioner's face emerged from within, her crimson eyes blazing like torches in the dim light.
Mirko's countenance lit up with excitement and her tongue slid out to lap at the blood that was trickling down from a gash on her forehead.
Like a predator eyeing its prey, her mouth split into a feral grin, revealing blood-speckled teeth. "Alright, let's play."
The following fifteen minutes could best be described as an exercise in discipline. Not Mirko instilling discipline, but me enforcing it upon myself in order to resist the overwhelming urge to either beg for mercy or run for my life. As the anything but cute and cuddly Rabbit Hero slammed my face into the ruined scrap of what had once been a dumpster for the umpteenth time, I found myself idly contemplating the choices I had made that led me to that point in life.
Finally satisfied, Mirko exhaled deeply before tossing me back into the center of the alley as if I were just another piece of trash.
"And that was for getting garbage in my hair, you little shit." Mirko declared.
Rolling over onto my back, I could do nothing more than groan in pain, a response that earned a bout of laughter from Mirko. Wiping the sheen of sweat off her brow, she came to stand directly over my broken body.
"I gotta hand it to you, kid. You're actually pretty tough. I haven't worked up a sweat like that in months. Not counting my own solo training sessions, of course." She gloated before flicking a strand of snow white hair out of her face.
"I don't need to know about your most recent escapades with your 'little pink rabbit'." I replied, my retort coming out in halting gasps as I struggled to regain my breath.
Why do I do this to myself?
Mirko blinked at me in astonishment before flashing a toothy grin. "I'm starting to think you get off on me beating the shit out of you."
"Not really. I just don't know when to quit." I whimpered miserably.
Mirko nodded absentmindedly while she looked over my battered form. She allowed several long seconds to pass in silence before punching her palm decisively.
"Alright, kid. I'll take you on."
The pain radiating from every part of my body smothered any sense of joy, but I nonetheless managed to partially raise an arm in triumph.
"Yay." I groaned.
Laughing at my misery, Mirko began doing some light cooldown stretches. "Whelp, I think this has been a productive evening. Let's get out of here."
"I don't think I can move." I admitted from my position on the ground.
"Well I'm sure as hell not carrying your fat ass home,-"
"Rude…"
"-you weigh like forty kilos more than I do."
"Just give me a minute. You hit really hard."
"Damn straight I do." Mirko agreed proudly.
Forcing my left arm to move, I reached into one of the pouches on my belt and withdrew my internship form.
"I forgot, you need to sign this." I choked out as I struggled to retain consciousness.
Mirko snatched the form out of my hand and squinted at it in the low light. Barely able to keep my own eyes open, I watched her quickly peruse the document. When she approached the end, her eyes suddenly widened. Jabbing a finger into the page, she turned her attention to me with a mixture of outrage and disbelief.
"Wait, I'm responsible for you? So if your sorry ass dies, everyone's gonna be pissed at me? What kind of bullshit is this?" Mirko demanded indignantly.
"I mean, I'm not exactly fragile. Most villains won't be able to hurt me, and if we run into one that's actually dangerous, I can just hang back while you take care of them." I replied tiredly, far too exhausted to put up a spirited defense.
Mirko dismissed my counterargument with a flick of her gloved hand.
"Forget the villains! I'm probably going to kill you by the end of the week!" She shouted in frustration, more to herself than me.
…
Mom, come pick me up.
"Make yourself at home or whatever." Mirko offered flippantly once we entered her apartment.
Closing the door behind me, I scanned the spacious penthouse while she padded over to the kitchen. The apartment was large and tidy, but relatively simplistic and sparsely decorated, with few indications that it was her actual place of residence.
It looks more like a model unit than anyone's house.
"Wait, so do you live here, live here, or is this just a random place you sleep?" I asked tiredly while shuffling towards the sweet respite promised by the massive grey sectional couch occupying the center of the living room.
"Meh, kinda. I move around a lot so I don't have what you'd call a permanent address." She replied over her shoulder as she rummaged through the refrigerator. "It's either keep an apartment in most major cities or get a hotel room wherever I'm staying, and there's no way in hell I'm staying in a hotel. Some creep will sneak a camera into my shower or some shit."
Stepping back from the fridge, Mirko looked over her shoulder and leveled me with a glare.
"Oh, hell no. You are not laying on my couch covered in garbage. Go take a shower and throw your shit in the wash." She commanded.
"Kay." I acknowledged tonelessly before adjusting my course to shuffle down the short hallway on the other side of the room.
"If you make a mess in there, I'll throw you out the window!" Mirko called out after me in a sing-song voice.
"Kay."
Fifteen minutes and three near losses of consciousness in the shower later, I emerged back into the living room dressed in my new, larger-sized 'pants' t-shirt and a pair of shorts I had brought along in my travel bag. Half-walking half-stumbling over to the couch, I tipped over the armrest and face planted into the cushion's sweet embrace.
"Damn, kid. Did I really wear you out that bad?" Mirko asked skeptically.
"Not really." I replied, turning my head to the side so that the cushions wouldn't muffle my words. "I think I mentioned it to you, but the internships don't actually start until tomorrow. Or maybe today. I don't know what time it is anymore. Anyway, even though I had permission to start my internship early, I still had a normal class schedule today. I also had the brilliant idea to insist that All MIght and I travel here in the way he usually moves about the country. Well it turns out he literally just runs and jumps."
"Wait, so you walked here!? Dude, what the fuck? We're in Nagoya! U.A. is over a hundred kilometers from here!" She exclaimed incredulously.
"Around one hundred twenty-five, actually…"
"Dude…"
"It was either suck it up and keep going, or accept All Might's offer to carry me the rest of the way, and fuck that." I admitted.
"Well at least you didn't bitch out. Respect, Mini-Might." Mirko offered in consolation.
Huffing in acknowledgement, I allowed myself to drift for a moment before my rumbling stomach demanded attention. "Are we eating something?"
"I awlreddy ahm." My mentor replied, clearly speaking through a mouthful of food.
Lifting my head to peer over the back of the couch, I narrowed my eyes at Mirko, who was leisurely leaning against the kitchen's island with a half eaten carrot in one hand and her cellphone in the other.
"What?" She demanded in response to my disapproving look.
"Don't talk with your mouth full." I grumbled before forcing myself to my feet with an agonized groan.
Making my way over to the kitchen, I began digging through my host's cabinets and fridge searching for ingredients.
"How do you not die of starvation?" I questioned with a distinctly unimpressed expression, gesturing to the mostly barren kitchen.
Mirko shrugged apathetically before returning to her carrot and continuing to scroll through her phone. "I usually just order out or get food on the way home."
"Whatever, at least you've got stuff for spaghetti."
"Wait, I do?"
"Yes, you do. Now go follow your own advice and bathe. I'm not feeding you when you smell like garbage." I instructed as I began thumbing through Mirko's woefully inadequate selection of seasonings.
"Wow, is that how you talk to a lady?"
Shifting my attention from the spice drawer, I gave her form a once over. "No, it isn't. Let me know if you see one."
"Pfft. Real original, kid." She groused before stomping off down the hall.
I'm way too tired for this shit.
My internalized grumblings continued while my exhausted body carried through the motions of making dinner. Both Izuku and my past self were capable cooks, and spaghetti was hardly a complicated dish, so by the time Mirko finally emerged from her room half an hour later in a tank top and booty shorts, our meal was ready to serve. Judging by the way Mirko's nose twitched in a very rabbit-like manner as she approached, my cooking skills remained adequate, even in my sleep-deprived state.
Wringing any remaining water from her hair, Mirko hopped up onto one of the bar stools lining the far side of the kitchen island. "Smells good, kid. You should've mentioned you can cook while you were doing your sales pitch earlier. I would've hired you on the spot."
"You don't pay me."
"Really? That's lame." She remarked offhandedly as she scooped a disconcerting amount of spaghetti onto her plate.
"Feel free to do so if it makes you feel better." I offered before hurriedly securing my own helping while food still remained available.
"Nah. Besides, doesn't your sugar daddy get you whatever you want?"
I spluttered in disgust at her disturbing description of All Might and I's relationship.
"Please, never say anything like that again." I begged with a shudder, earning a bout of mocking laughter from Mirko.
"Zish ish rweelly gud, kid." She complimented a moment later through a mouthful of spaghetti.
Flashing her another unimpressed look, Mirko rolled her eyes and slurped down another bunch of noodles. Swallowing pointedly, she dramatically drew herself up and dabbed exaggeratedly at the corners of her mouth with a napkin.
"I do say, supper is absolutely delectable this evening. You've quite outdone yourself, good sir." She complimented haughtily.
Snorting at her antics, I returned to my meal.
Spearing a meatball with her fork, Mirko groaned at my lack of engagement. "I take it back. I wouldn't have hired you if I knew how boring you were."
"Mirko, it's-" I swiped lazily at my phone to activate the display. "-two in the morning. I just want to go to sleep."
"Nuh uh." Mirko replied sharply before making an X in front of her chest with her arms. "I'm off the clock. Mirko is my ass kicking name, so unless you want me to piledrive you into the apartment below us, it's just Rumi."
"You want me to call you by your name?"
"What, you prefer Usagiyama? It's a bit of a mouthful but whatever floats your boat."
Sighing heavily, I carried my empty plate over to the sink just as Mirko loaded hers with what little food remained.
"Fair enough, I guess. So am I crashing on the couch?" I questioned through a yawn.
"Yep. I didn't get this place with a roomie in mind, sorry." Mirko confirmed between bites of spaghetti.
A few minutes later, Rumi dropped her plate into the sink and practically bounced over to where I was laying on the couch. Propping her arms up on the back, she loomed over me as she spoke.
"Okay, so I'm gonna order food, like food food, in the morning. You're a super good cook, so you're my chef for the week." She declared with a happy grin.
Doing my utmost to avoid staring at her cleavage, I nodded my agreement before turning on my side and announcing my intention to go to sleep.
Pushing off the couch, Mirko started walking towards her bedroom. "Alright, see ya in the morning, then." Halting at the entrance to the short hallway, she spun around on her heel. "Oh, and by the way, I appreciate you being all gentlemanly and shit, but if you literally never stare at my tits, it's just as noticeable. If anything it's even weirder than if you perved out. You gotta strike a good middle ground."
Groaning loudly, I pulled a pillow over my head and buried my face into the cushions. As Mirko's boisterous laughter echoed through the apartment, I couldn't help but curse my choice in internship.
It's going to be a long week.
Author's Note:
The bit at the end about finding a good middle ground is taken from an actual conversation I had in life with a female friend of mine like a decade ago, haha. I remembered it out of the blue whilst writing this chapter and figured I'd throw a similar interaction in at the end.