The next two weeks went by in a flash. Shoto and I continued eating lunch on the second floor. We try to leave anything that has to do with quirks and/or training for our Sunday brunch and trains. He's helping a lot with up-close combat. After my brutal fail against Mina, I pushed for Shoto to not hold back. It resulted in many more bruises and a few patches of frostbite, but I'm getting used to it.
I've double-downed on my training. As silly as it sounds, I don't want to embarrass myself at the internships. So now, I have morning jogs, morning stretches, after-school training, evening jog, and nightly workouts. I didn't think it was possible, but I even grew a few inches. I broke the 152 CM wall, and stand around 157 CM.
Now, it's finally the night before we start our internships. Izuku and I are lounging around my room. He told me he was interning with a retired U.A. teacher. When asked him why he chose the retired pro he clammed up. I want to push it, but I know Izuku just gets like this sometimes.
"You know Ko-Chan, I've been wondering. Do you have a thing for Shoto?" He says, lifting a twenty-kilogram weight with his right hand like it's nothing.
I choke on the Ramune I was sipping on. My expression had to look horrified, but I can't fix it.
"Why would you ask that?! Of course not." I gasp. He throws his hands into a surrendering stance.
"I-I don't know! Sorry, it's just that you two disappear together during lunch. Nobody can ever find you guys during it, and everybody sees you together after. Just wondering..." He whines, pouting like a child. I groan and flop on my bed.
"I guess that is suspicious. We just eat lunch together every day."
"Alone." He reminds me.
"Yes, alone. But not doing anything weird. Just eating and talking. On the subject, don't think your and Uraraka's meal thing doesn't slip past me. You only buy half of the lunch every day. She buys the other half and you eat together like a married couple!" Izuku turns red.
"I-it's just a money-saving compromise. N-nothing r-romantic!" He exclaims.
His phone begins to buzz, flashing his mother's face. He answers it and reluctantly tells his mom he's ready to go. I wave to him, wishing him luck on the internship.
Izuku lets himself out as I lay on my bed, staring at the blindingly white roof. A whole week away from home. Training with no classes. It's going to be lonely, but will I even have time to feel it?
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The next morning, after my workouts, my driver drives me and Ms. Itsumi up to the beautiful Hosu city. It's much more of a business city, compared to Musutafu's bright city skylines and family homes. This city is for bachelors and rich fathers who don't bother with their children. Powerful businesswomen in 6-inch heels. Young adults with mind-numbing internships getting coffee day after day.
This city is mine for a week.
We pull up at the Native Pro Hero Agency. Ms. Itsumi will be at the hotel during the week. I insisted that she didn't come, but my father made her. Something about safety. Mr. Daichi unlocks my door, and I smile at him. I pop the trunk and grab the suitcase I retrieved from school this morning. It's the hero costume I'll make my debut in. The one I have never seen before.
I wave Ms. Itsumi goodbye and stand in front of the building for a minute. My stomach is doing this weird knot thing, and I feel like I'm going to hurl. I'm about to walk into the lobby when an arrow whizzes past my head, landing on the ground an inch from my feet.
I jump, twirling to find the anonymous attacker. I don't see anybody on ground level so I look to the sky. That's when I see a man crouched on the rooftop of an office building, still holding the bow in an attack pose.
Upon, closer inspection I see a fluffy cape blowing behind the figure and a feather sticking out on top. The cliché outfit can only belong to one person.
Native jumps off the roof and lands in front of me. His landing is graceful and it's a wonder how he's not clutching his foot in absolute pain right now. He looks me up and down (maybe to make sure he didn't just shoot an arrow at an innocent bystander?) and nods.
"I'm Native. You're Toshiba, right?" He says, brushing a part of his brown bangs from his face.
"Yes, sir!" I bow. "I'm here for the internship."
"Manners, I like it." He nods approvingly.
A Channel 6 News van rolls by, and he ushers me into the building. I'm confused until I remember he's not fond of the media. As he leads me through the lobby, I listen as he talks shit. He hates the media like somebody would a Monday. Except, he wants to follow Monday home, barricade Monday's doors, and burn the house down.
He jabs the elevator button and turns around, acknowledging me again.
"Since I assume U.A. doesn't teach you distanced combat, that's what we'll learn today. Then, tonight we'll go on a patrol. We'll repeat this routine for the rest of the week." He says, walking backward into the elevator. I nod excitedly, trailing behind. Once in, he hits the 'Basement' button and the elevator proceeds to sink into the floor.
The elevator dings, opening the doors. It's very dark down here. It takes my eyes a second to adjust and in that second, Native has already moved into the middle of the floor. Around him tower faux buildings big and small. Each with its own roofing style and own color scheme. I jog to catch up to Native, trying to act like the dark isn't impairing me.
"We do evening and night patrols around here. So the lights in this training room never go past the 'dim' setting. We call this training center, 'Willfall'. Wanna know why?" He questions. I nod eagerly.
"Because," He jumps, sending himself flying onto the roof of the closest building. "Newbies will fall."
I gape at this new information. Is Native saying I'll be going up there? I close my mouth and try to level myself. What did I expect 'long-distance' meant? Being across the street?
Native jumps back down, and presses a button on the side of the building. Within seconds, somebody (an assistant?) appears, clipboard in hand, ready to serve him.
"What size are you, kid?" He asks, pointing at my feet.
"A six and a half, sir," I say, confused.
"Irene, get our new hero intern a pair of my spring shoes. We don't want her breaking an ankle." He says, giving me a devious look.
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Half an hour later, I have a pair of boots identical to Native's. He told me to go to the bathroom and change into my hero costume. I'm really excited because I'm going to not only see, but wear my hero costume for the first time. I have no idea what to expect, so when I open my suitcase to find a load of black silk, I'm disappointed.
Begrudgingly, I slip on the costume. It has a wide turtle neck that covers the bottom half of my face, and kimono-style sleeves. I feel a cold breeze on my thighs, so I look down. I find that the dress has two LARGE slits down the side of the dress' skirt, exposing both of my thighs. A burning heat rises to my face as I try, to no avail, to find some sort of zipper or button to close the gap.
After a good five minutes of trying to find solutions, I'm forced to deal with it. I pull on the tall stockings, that do not come close to covering my thighs and check out the accessories.
There's a wrist bag that holds a dispenser of Tylenol (for my headaches), a hairband (to hold my hair, obviously), and a pen (most likely to sign autographs. Thanks father.).
After I've put them all in their designated places, I slip on the boots. I don't notice any difference between normal shoes and these until I stand up. You wouldn't realize how much weight your foot carried until it didn't anymore. The shoes, from what I can tell, take all pressure from your feet. That's why Native could jump so high and land on his feet without any pain.
I grin at the clever costume design and close my suitcase. I exit the restroom and walk slowly down the hall. Every light gets dimmer and dimmer until I'm back in the dark again. I pause to let my eyes adjust to the dark, but they don't get a chance. With the darkness of the room, something in my dress activates. Slowly, intricate lines on the dress begin to glow a bright teal, making a halo of brilliant light around my body.
I'm astonished by this scene. In the light, the costume was a simple design. Black fabric with a few movability cuts. But in the dark, it becomes complex. Beautiful.
I'm not given the proper amount of time to revel in its magnificence, though. The loud clack of heels grows as Native's assistant beckons me. I hurry over to the entrance of the faux city. Native is lazily scrolling through his phone. I wonder what he's looking at if he doesn't do social media...
Native hears us coming, and stares at me. Is he annoyed?
"Jesus. I knew girls took a while to get ready, but wow. That was forever." He groans, tossing his head back. I smile apologetically. We've been together for a total of five minutes. And I can tell Native is very short-tempered. Not the rash kind, but the 'I'm going to make sure you know' kind.
"Whatever." He waves it off. "Now that you have those shoes, we're going to practice rooftop jumping."
Rooftop jumping. Like jumping on the roofs?! My heart skips eight beats all at once as I think about my foot slipping and me plummeting to my ensured death. I try to calm myself, so I can watch him jump up in perfect detail.
He takes a short running start, skips, then jumps with both of his feet. Like how you would do on a trampoline to get higher. I shake my hands, pretending that it releases all of my fear, and repeat Native's routine.
When I jump, it springs me a few thousand centimeters in the air. I feel like I'm flying. The air whirs past me as I rocket upwards. The building that I had once thought so high, becomes eye level in seconds. Then waist level. Then it's below me. Before I know it, I slam into the ceiling. The pain I feel is canceled out by the fear that I'm plummeting to the ground at alarming speeds.
"Yeah, that was too high," Native says, basically ignoring that I'm falling to my death. A scream escapes my lips as I pick up speed in my decent.
Then, it stops. I feel a pressure on my ankle as the sense of panic halts. The lack of air force causes my clothes to stop clinging to my skin. Ergo: my skimpy skirt lifts and falls into my face.
"Oh my god!" I scream trying to push the skirt back over my crotch and ultimately failing. "Don't look!" Self-consciously, I try to twist to see if he is.
"I-I'm not." He hisses. I'm waiting for him to pull me onto the roof with him, but he's not. I try again to cover myself, yet again failing.
"Native."
"What?"
"Pull. Me. Up." I say through my teeth. He seems to just realize that's the next step because he yanks my leg, dropping me on the roof next to him. I rush to get right-side-up and pull my skirt down. I avoid his eyes as I try to breathe through everything that just happened.
"So, um, roof jumping?" I ask.
"Roof jumping." He agrees, spinning on his feet.