Summary: (ง •̀_•́)ง
————————————————————————
"Pro Hero Valiant."
Three little words, accompanied only by the midnight summer breeze.
"If you don't mind," the reporter started, stepping closer to Izuku. "I have a few questions for you."
Going home from Katsuki's house should've been the easy part—hopping on the train, getting off at his stop, making the short walk from the station to his apartment—but almost as soon as he'd turned into the small alley to finish the trip, this had to happen.
"I'm sorry," he said, moving to walk around the reporter. "Contact my agency if you need something."
Guess this damn hat wasn't enough of a disguise this time... god, when will they leave me the hell alone!?
"I said I had questions for you, Valiant. Not your agency," she continued, shoving a small recording device close to his face. "It's not often that you let yourself be seen in public off-duty. Did you have something going on tonight?"
Do I— "Do I look like I'm 'letting myself' be seen right now?" he said, trying to keep his voice as level as possible. "I'm sorry. I'm going to have to decline. Please contact my agency if you have any inquiries."
Just leave me the hell alone, would you!?
"So the rumors were true..." she leaned in closer, looking more towards his mouth than his eyes. "You really did get a tongue piercing. Interesting, considering your lack of a personal life to put it to use in."
Stay calm, stay calm— "What I do with my body is my business," he bristled, just trying to breathe. "I'd rather not say it again. I will not be answering any questions of yours."
God, and right after all the shit I pulled at Kacchan's place, too... can't I catch a damn break today!?
"Alright," she said, that damn recorder still mere inches from his face. "Then, I suppose your agency won't mind a few inquiries regarding contact between you and third-year U.A. student, Bakugou Katsuki?"
No.
"You're hesitating." The reported pushed, leaning in. "Thinking twice about turning me away now?"
"There," careful, careful— "has been no contact between Bakugou and I outside of educational and workplace activities."
You don't have anything to prove otherwise. I was careful today. We weren't stalked. I checked the area before I kissed him.
Izuku knew he was a bad liar. Knew it from the bottom of his soul. But this wasn't lying about he and Katsuki's escapades to his mother, wasn't trying to convince his therapist he was perfectly fine, wasn't faking illness to call in sick to his workplace after a wicked night of sex.
This is for us. This is for his safety.
That said, Izuku had no idea what he'd do if she pulled receipts.
Keep your composure, keep your composure, please...
"...then, what was that display at the sports festival?" She asked, moving on. "The whole stadium saw you run down the bleachers. We saw your illusion on the field. So why were you so panicked? Why would that be used against Bakugou?"
Choose your words wisely.
If nothing else, the darkness helped to obscure any misgivings on his face.
"I'm not sure how widely known it is, but it's no secret that I've helped out at U.A. multiple times in the past," he said, each word thick in his mouth. "And I'll admit, Bakugou is one of my favorite students to spar with. My guess is that the illusion was utilized because the person he was fighting was his classmate—she would be well aware of this fact, and probably planned to use it against him. Obviously, that didn't work, but..." he sighed. "I ran down because I was confused and wanted to see it closer. Think about it—if you suddenly saw a mirror image of yourself out of nowhere, you'd run down too, wouldn't you?"
He'd shoved his hands deep in his pockets earlier, thankful that their mad shaking was out of sight.
Ignore how scared I am. Ignore how fucking afraid I am for my boyfriend.
And thankfully, thankfully, she went quiet.
"...I see." The reporter finally replied, still not leaving his eyes. "Nothing more, Valiant?"
"Nothing more," he blurted, hoping the urgency hadn't given his game away. "Now, please leave me be. I know you news people probably know where the hell I live, so let me go the twenty feet past you to my apartment so I can sleep before my four A.M. shift."
The recording device was lowered, clicked off, and put away, just as the reporter broke her too-even stare.
"You're clearly nervous." She pursed her lips, but didn't pull the recorder back out. "I don't believe that what you say is all there is to this, Japan's perpetual bachelor. You can say your work comes before everything else all you want, but when physical proof of you and that high schooler being together surfaces, I hope you're ready to talk."
There won't be any physical proof. Not unless we decide to out ourselves, anyways.
"I don't think that's something I'll need to concern myself with." Each word scraped through his mouth like a razor, bloody and raw, but all Izuku did—could do, really—was shoulder past the reporter in stark, frigid silence.
I won't. I won't. I won't.
He slipped through the shoddy apartment gate without being trailed, but even with the knowledge that he'd been let to go free, Izuku's legs carried him to the lobby before he even touched the stairs.
Was there anyone like that reporter here? he asked. Did anyone go up to my apartment? Did someone come in here and bug the place?
It was all he could do to keep his voice from cracking, crumbling, shattering under the weight of everything that'd happened that evening. He was soundly assured that no one with the reporter's description had come by, that nothing suspicious had happened, but that didn't mean Izuku didn't take care to examine every step and every tiny crack in the wall before entering his apartment. It was still locked—realistically, no one could have been there.
I'm fine. I'm fine. Everything's... everything's fine.
But even with that logic, the only thing that could quell his paranoia was a full sweep of his personal living space for cameras, recorders, anything that didn't belong.
Ten minutes to midnight, Izuku collapsed on his bed, buried his face in his hands, and cried.
No one's here. No one's in my space. I'm safe. I'm safe. Kacchan's perfectly safe, and I... I-I...
Blearily, Izuku tossed around the idea of searching for a new apartment, somewhere that wasn't contaminated with all the pain and fear and distress this one held despite all the good that had happened between its walls, too.
"I-It's fine. I'm... I'm fine." Izuku mumbled, pulling his legs to his chest. "No one's gonna find out. No one's gonna find out before we tell them. No one's... n-no one's gonna..."
God, I'm so fucking scared.
For the first time in forever, Izuku legitimately had no idea what to do. Nausea rolled in his stomach as dizziness blurred in his head, and despite the dinner going (somewhat) well, the sheer stress of the whole evening was beating him down more than he'd expected. A part of him was tempted to call in sick to work in the morning, but laying in his apartment alone would probably be worse for the shitty mental state he was already sporting.
Should I contact my therapist? Schedule an emergency appointment? Call a friend? Call Kacchan?
Lying alone with his thoughts wouldn't do anything but worsen the fear, after all.
Katsuki had probably had enough of his bullshit for the evening. His therapist would be asleep. But his friends...
Are they around? Could they talk, even if it's only for a little bit?
Izuku reached for his phone, dialed, and hoped for the best.
I don't know what to do, I just don't know what...
"Ugh, shit..." came the yawned voice from over the phone. "Izuku... mm, somethin' going on?"
In that moment, Ochako had never sounded so comforting.
"I... w-well, I—"
"Oh...! Wait, you went to Bakugou's parent's place for dinner, didn't you? Oof, something happen? They skin you alive?"
Might as well have, but... "It, uh... could've been worse." Izuku mumbled, trying his best to keep himself composed. "I-I mean, comparatively, it wasn't all that bad, so I really shouldn't complain about—"
"Wait, comparatively? Compared to what?"
Just thinking about the recent incident was enough to make him sick.
"That's, um... that's why I called." Each word came out dry, parched. "S-Shit, I... I was just on my way home, turned in the alleyway, and ran right into a reporter."
"...oh, shit." There was a rustle of clothes that rose with the urgency in Ochako's voice. "And the reporter was—"
"—waiting for me." Nails dug into his leg. "Asked me directly about Kacchan even after I basically told her to fuck off."
"Izuku... Izuku, that's really, really not good." Ochako's voice was tight with fear, with panic. "Did she have evidence? Proof? You—you didn't incriminate yourself, did you?"
"No, n-no... all she brought up was that shit at the sports fest," Izuku swallowed. "But she kept pushing me, trying to get an answer out of me, talking about my tongue piercing and the fact that I was out late and kept talking about Kacchan, a-and I..."
It's fine. It's fine. She doesn't have proof, and I didn't admit to anything, but...
"I-I don't care what they say about me." Acrid bitterness clung to every word. "The media's been giving me shit for years, and a little more isn't gonna change things. I'm... I-I'm just..."
His parents were skeptical of me at first because I never talk about myself on the news, and the language that reporter was using when trying to ask me about him was only negative.
"Scared for him?"
The tears on his palms had long since dried.
"...yeah."
It was easier when he wasn't the one saying it.
"I just..." Izuku's fingers tangled themselves into the fabric, though the touch hardly provided an ounce of comfort. "He's... he's got his whole career ahead of him. He hasn't set foot on the field on his own, not really, and I don't want anything to be ruined for him because of me...!"
"Why would his career be—"
"Because my reputation has been in the goddamn garbage disposal for years!" Shaking, trembling, white-water rapids twisted in his head. "F-Fuck, I—you know I can't hardly go out without long sleeves! You know people talk behind my back constantly! Everyone's... s'like everyone's waiting for me to fuck up again so that I can be outed as the fake hero I am! And if Kacchan—if he has the misfortune of being associated with me, then he might have opportunities taken away before he even has the chance to start...!"
I didn't think about this much before. Never thought I'd get this far. Hardly considered the fact that he... that him being a hero means his face will be all over the news to begin with.
Izuku knew in his gut that Katsuki would succeed, well and far beyond most other people on the field. Knew that realistically, there was a good chance they could work as professional partners in a few years. But his boyfriend didn't have the baggage that he had—didn't have bad history, didn't have a ruined body, didn't have a bone-deep disgust for the press. Sure, maybe his reputation had improved in recent years, and maybe his fellow heroes didn't look bad at him for it, but the rest of society?
I... I don't want Kacchan to experience what I have. I never want him to feel like the whole world pinned its disappointment on his shoulders.
No, they weren't going to break up. No, they weren't going to split apart unless something real, something drastic came between them. No, they—
"Izuku."
Oh god, oh god, she's still listening.
But Ochako's voice was only calm, only soothing. "I don't wanna tell you everything's going to be okay. You... you, more than anyone else, know that. This isn't an easy situation, but it's also not the end of anything, yeah? Heck, nothing has even happened yet." She paused. "Just... maybe, try to make a plan in case something does happen. Let your agency's PR team know about your relationship. Shit might happen, but the least you can do is be prepared, right?"
...huh.
"I don't like the idea of doing that." Izuku mumbled, staring at his feet. "I really, really don't. But you're right."
It makes me sick to tell anyone about this, but it's... unavoidable. If we're both going to be in the field, and we're going to continue this relationship, then... we can't hide this forever.
They'd already had enough close calls, after all.
"...Izuku? You okay?"
"Fine, fine," then—"Aha, nope. Nope! Nope, I'm scared as shit!"
Why don't we just quit our jobs, move across the ocean, settle down in a town where no one knows us, and I dunno, ride horses till the end of our days! That's gotta be better than this, right? Right!?
"Hm, maybe..." Ochako pondered, a slight hum rolling off her lips. "Okay. We're—y'know, we're just gonna rip off the bandaid! I think I remember our patrols lining up for tomorrow, so while we're on break, I'll go with you and we'll talk to your agency's PR team. Moral support helps, right?"
Izuku would rather throw himself off a cliff than willingly disclose his relationship to people outside of his immediate friend group, but...
"It... yeah, it helps."
"Alright. So..." A long yawn interrupted her words. "Sorry, m'tired. Gonna go back to sleep with Eijirou, so you better rest up too."
Dunno if I'll really be able to sleep tonight, but...
"...I'll try."
Ochako hung up before he could say a proper goodbye, and after finally managing to change into his pajamas and stress-cry into his pillow for another half hour, fell into a fitful sleep.
Plans are good, plans are helpful, but these ones...
Izuku's hand slipped into the hole Katsuki had burnt into the mattress.
...these ones should never have to be made in the first place.
———————
"Well, damn. I almost feel like they shouldn't have accepted that as easily as they did."
"No shit," Izuku sighed. "Makes me wish I hadn't freaked out as much before we went in. All... all I had to do was say 'yeah, we're dating,' and they were cool."
"Cool might be pushing it, but they didn't look like they wanted to strangle you!" Ochako exclaimed, as if trying to grab at the smallest bits of hope in sight. "At least your PR team agrees with the whole lay-low approach. And them recommending you stick around me and Eijirou on duty means we can spend more time together!"
Gotta keep looking at the upsides. Gotta keep looking at the upsides.
"I... yeah, you're right." Izuku nodded. "But don't forget that they also recommended breaking up, waiting till Kacchan had gone pro to get back together, and I..."
I can't do that. Won't do that. That's not fair to me or him...!
"Hey. Izuku." Ochako grabbed him by the shoulder, stopped him in his tracks. "It's gonna be okay. They didn't say you had to, it was just a recommendation, so don't worry about it! Things are gonna be alright."
He bit back the easy for you to say in favor of a short nod and a shove of her hand off of him, trudging towards his agency's exit with the hope that a villain meddlesome enough would indulge him on his afternoon patrol. Kirishima would be meeting up with them for the remainder of the shift, though, and for as much as Izuku loved seeing his friends, right now—in this situation—the thought made him feel more awful than anything else.
The media will notice if your performance starts tanking, his PR team had told him. You need to keep your fieldwork at or above the level you've been working at. You can't afford to let it fall, because the media will see that as their way in.
He'd quit caring about his ranking long ago, and for as rational as that logic was, Izuku could hardly find it in himself to give two shits about what the media thought of him personally.
Doesn't matter if they say shit about me. I'm used to them saying shit about me. It's... It's Kacchan I can't afford to have hurting.
But for as much as he wanted to do everything he could to protect his boyfriend, another part of him pulled back. Izuku didn't want to have that same argument with him again, didn't want to endure a fight borne from his supposed lack of trust for Katsuki. They'd have to talk more about this particular type of situation for sure, discuss details and work out plans and make preparations for future arrangements with his boyfriend's graduation drawing nearer and nearer, yet even so...
What if it's not enough? What if Kacchan's too turned off by all this mess to even want to be with me any longer? What if—
"Izuku! Wait up, you're going really fast!"
Ochako.
"S-Sorry, sorry..." They fell into an easier pace, and Izuku forced himself to stop thinking about all that stuff for now. "Is Kirishima joining us soon? He was out patrolling in Sector Three for the morning shift, wasn't he?"
"Mhm, and yep! We're gonna be meeting him at the destination—they told me while you were in with your PR team that we'd be taking on Sector Twelve for the afternoon patrol."
"One of the most dangerous areas... well, I guess that makes sense." Izuku nodded, secretly hoping for a bit more action. "Anyone else gonna be around there with us?"
"Nah, s'just us today..." Ochako pursed her lips. "We'll have our hands full. Something to keep all the media stuff off your mind, right?"
"Aha, you're right... well—" he cracked his knuckles, then his neck. "No time to waste in getting over there, huh?"
Not that the process of simply getting over there was as easy as it sounded. Small villains, pickpocketers, and a few off-hand reporters had to be dealt with on the way to their area, and Izuku had to be extra careful to avoid letting his tongue piercing show for fear of more rumors spreading.
It was stupid. So, so fucking stupid that he couldn't even make the smallest of bodily modifications without the media wanting to be privy to every bit of it.
That's just how it is, though... everyone wants a story, and people like me carry the biggest headlines around.
"Izuku, over here! Eijirou's just up the way."
"Oh, awesome." Backup. Backup's good.
Kirishima greeted him with a cheery shout and a wave, dark circles under even his eyes despite the honest smile on his face. "Midoriya! How've you been since the sports fest?" A finger tapped against his chin, and— "Wait. Lemme guess. Having a little fun with your boyfriend, avoiding the press, and calling in 'sick' to work so you have an excuse to enjoy your morning after?"
A furious blush rose over Izuku's face at the near-perfect account of his past week. "I'm allowed to enjoy myself, aren't I!?"
"'Course you are, buddy. I'm just messin' with you." Kirishima pat him on the back, nothing but support in his words. "You two deserve some time for yourselves. And hey, least that high collar of yours is being put to good use, am I right?"
Actually, maybe I should just let the next villain we see off me instead! Maybe that'd be better than more goddamn embarrassment!
Then again, Izuku wasn't sure anything would be much worse than the garbage he'd spewed at Katsuki's parents' house.
"In short, yes. In not-short, let's talk about that later." Izuku ducked his head, pulling in front of the group. "We going out together or splitting up for coverage?"
"Your agency recommended sticking together," Ochako reminded him. "You know, for the whole 'staying inconspicuous' thing."
"I was asking more in terms of doing my damn job, but if you think we can manage this Sector better as a group, then that's... that's fine," Izuku grumbled. "God, I need more villains to show up today. Really in the mood to throw a few punches. Beat the shit out of a couple people, like you do."
"Hey now, that doesn't sound very Valiant of you."
"You know what, Red Riot? Y'know what? How about I take half this place, and you two take the other," he huffed. "Let me throw hands in peace."
He could've sworn there was a murmur of something happen? and a he's just pissy about the press, let him get it out behind him.
Shut it. I'm not "pissy."
They ran across another purse-snatcher not a minute later, and instead of the usual injury-free breakup of the situation, the villain left the premises with two fresh black eyes and a bloody nose.
Well, maybe I'm a little pissy.
Getting rid of the small fry was enough to ease the near-insatiable itch under his skin, but it took every bit of strength to keep himself from launching fists at every innocent (and not-so-innocent) reporter he saw on the streets.
If nothing with more firepower comes along, I'm gonna have to hit up the gym after this. Still feel like tossing someone across the entire fucking city, but I think the urge to murder is gone, at least!
Kirishima's urging was the only reason he even wound up taking his five-minute patrol break, yet pacing back and forth in the mouth of a downtown alleyway had never felt so restraining. He wanted—no, needed—to get back on the street, to find someone else to take out his frustrations on, to—
Bzz. Bzz. Bzz.
That small, near-invisible hum from his belt pocket was a new enough distraction. Izuku fished his phone out, flipped open the couple of new messages (all from Katsuki, thank god), and allowed himself a brief moment to forget his impatience and read.
[Kacchan] know ur probs busy but
[Kacchan] think u got any free time today or tomorrow?
[Kacchan] i kinda, uh
[Kacchan] miss u. wanna see u again
[Kacchan] hanging out w friends rn but its not the same as u
Izuku's heart swelled at just those few messages, and despite the fact that they'd seen each other the literal night before, couldn't help but echo those sentiments.
[Izuku] i miss u too, baby<3
[Izuku] might be able to grab some time tonight? but are you sure that you're
[Izuku] well
[Izuku] up to another round so soon?
"Hey, we should probably get going again," Ochako nudged him, pointing out towards the street. "Time's up."
"Yeah, yeah... sorry, just finishing up, hang on," he mumbled, still staring at his phone as he followed his friends back out on patrol.
[Kacchan] didn't say we had to fuck
[Kacchan] not that I'd. Um. Turn that down
[Kacchan] but okay yeah maybe I want you to fuck me again look it feels amazing
So cute, Izuku grinned as he typed out a reply, so fucking cute.
[Izuku] so what youre saying is you missed my dick, huh?
[Izuku] i guess ill take it, even if you dont really miss me:(
[Kacchan] not what I said, dumbass!
[Kacchan] look here. You. Me. Dinner. Maybe a movie. Your bed, my ass, your dick. Normal date night shit. Deal?
"Date night," he murmured, sure there was a mile-wide smile stretched across his face. "Kacchan wants a date night...!"
"Yeah, and I want you to turn off your phone and save the heart-eyes for later." Ochako rolled her eyes. "Come on, where's that fire you had earlier? Even if it was just out of spite?"
"Shh, we're planning!"
"You guys can plan later."
"Y-Yeah, but—!"
"Get your ass in gear, Valiant." Ochako said, punctuating her sentence with a firm slap of said ass. "Yeah, you fucked him once, we get it. But he'll wait! Remember, you're still on duty, and destroying your boyfriend in bed isn't the same as destroying villains!"
"I know, I know, just lemme—hey!"
Before he could finishing type out an appropriate reply to Katsuki's most recent message, Ochako snatched the phone from his hands and shoved it into her pocket.
Oh, you jerk. You absolute asshole. I'm going to get you back for this later, mark my words, I—
"Valiant!"
Wait, Kirishima...?
"Watch your three! Something—shit, there's something big out there!" His friend called out, jolting Izuku back to the present. "I'll take the left. Uravity, watch the right. Valiant, get up high and give us a surveillance report!"
Dammit, hero names means it's serious.
A part of him almost wished he was as pissed as he'd been not ten minutes ago as he scaled the side of a nearby building, lewd fantasies of Katsuki's too-perfect body tainting every heroic thought in his mind right now.
Ugh, he thought, iron soles digging into concrete as he spun around to scan the area. Guess that'll be my motivation to get this done.
Nothing on the right. Nothing down the middle. Nothing behind him, but—
Oh, shit...!
"No clear view of the target yet," he said, slamming the button on his comms unit and leaping towards another nearby building, "but I've got eyes on a large cloud of dust near Red Riot. Still unsure if we'll need backup." Another jump, another look. "Uravity, do a check for other heroes in the vicinity! Do we have any other incoming reports on this target!?"
"No, not from what I'm seeing!" Came the swift reply. "Do we need to evacuate the surrounding areas?"
That looming cloud of dust was only growing bigger, bigger.
"Yeah—yeah. Call the police, have them send out a mass alert." A gloved hand grazed over his lips, the familiar heat of battle pumping adrenaline through every inch of his body. "I'm going in closer. My guess right now is that the villain can generate some sort of sandstorm thing, so we've gotta deal with this fast. Damage costs could be high if we take too long—!"
"If it really is like you say, then you're gonna be our best bet for taking it out quick." Ochako reminded him. "I'm sure you've got enough hot air in you to blow it away!"
"Is that really what you wanna say to the person who's gonna get our asses out of this!?"
"I mean, she ain't wro—"
"Red Riot, Uravity, this is an official request to shut the fuck up." Izuku scowled. "You wanna engage in hand-to-hand combat with a giant dust cloud? See what happens?"
There was an exasperated sigh from one end of the comms unit, and a small chuckle from the other. "Alright, alright. I'll start working on the ground evacuations," Kirishima said, more serious this time. "If it's just dust, do you think we could tell 'em to just go inside? Maybe just clear the streets?"
"That'd depend on if it's like, spinning or not, right?" Ochako asked. "If it's just dust, we could treat it like a tornado warning. Get people to building interiors, away from windows and all that... whaddya think?"
Hm...
He had to be at least four hundred, maybe three hundred feet from the steadily-growing funnel. No clear target in the middle, just sand and debris and wind.
If civilians are in the midst of that, they're gonna be in trouble. But first, I'll need to take out the source so I can rescue them...!
"Do that." Izuku affirmed, started to regret getting rid of his costume's face mask the closer he got to the target. "Diameter of the cloud appears to be at least two hundred feet at this point." And growing. "Focus on watching the outside. I'll let you know if I need help!"
"Over and out, Valiant." Ochako answered. "And be safe on your end, alright?"
"I will." He jumped closer, and finally, finally, got a look at the roaring funnel in the heart of the city center. "Promise."
I mean it.
Izuku couldn't have been more than a hundred feet out from the whirlwind—no, cyclone—and already he could hear the horrible, thunderous moan of the twister, loud as a runaway freight train careening at breakneck speed. Dust and debris ping-ponged between the sides of skyscrapers, sandpaper scratches already blistering his cheeks as he forced his way towards the center.
C'mon, c'mon... the sooner I can find the source, the sooner this'll be over...!
Blurred shadows of civilians darted in and out of focus in the thick of the storm, panicked screams and shouts of terror echoing up to his reach. Izuku wanted to jump down and help more than anything, but saving a few to sacrifice the many?
I have to keep moving. I have to find the source. Is there—shit, is there anyone else who can help!?
Rigid fingers gripped his comms unit, but each futile attempt at communication was met with empty static.
Shit. Shit. That's not...
Wicked spears of sand shot out through the hardly-visible area, finally forcing him to slap a crackling palm over his mouth in order to keep himself breathing.
...that's not good.
Izuku let loose one, then another, then another gust of his own wind towards the supposed center of the funnel, but the break it provided only gave him enough time to suck in a short breath and refocus himself.
The longer I spend in this sandstorm, the less I'll be able to breathe. And if I can't hold out here with my power, then—
A choked, ragged cough broke from his lips.
Nobody else is gonna survive out here.
He ignored the small flecks of crimson blood scattered on his glove, opting to suck in as deep a breath as he could before dashing back out into the center of the storm, his own raw power crackling around him the only barrier between life and certain suffocation.
Maybe I should've asked Ochako to come with me. She has a helmet.
More screams, more howling, whistling wind.
Maybe Kirishima would've been better. He wouldn't get scraped up by this because of his quirk.
Then again, he'd stopped feeling the awful grating against his cheek so long ago, too.
Am I bleeding? Am I hurt? I can't... can't feel much...
But there was no time to think—no time, not when the screams were gradually dying down around him with echoed explosions, not when the tempest was only growing thicker, growing stronger, growing—
Wait.
The storm wall sat in front of him now, half a mile tall and screeching with one of the ugliest, most horrifying sounds Izuku had ever head. But below that ghastly wail, down in the city center...
...explosions? Why... why the hell are there explosions!?
Katsuki was with his friends.
No, he said...
Katsuki was out with his friends.
Not here.
Two steps forward, power rippling through his body and obscuring whatever meager vision he had left.
Not here. Can't be here.
Heat coiled in his stomach, his arm, raw fury tearing at him from the inside out.
Not here. Can't be here. Please, please, don't be...!
A punch, a shock of bright, blinding light, and then—
"...d-don't—be here."
Nothing.
A small, slumped body lay not a few feet in front of him—the villain, he realized after too-long a stare—bleeding and clearly unconscious.
Izuku coughed.
They're still breathing, he noticed, stumbling to the villain's side. Thank god. I let myself get carried away. Should've been more careful. That was... that was too close for comfort.
Usually, he tried his best to leave the villains at least semi-conscious. The police didn't appreciate having to wait for them to wake up, and the less damage they received, the less they'd have to provide medical treatment...
Okay, okay. It could've been a whole lot cleaner. But it's done now, so—
"...uh oh."
That wasn't me.
Izuku got to his feet again, coughing up more gritty sand as he did, and looked around for the sudden voice.
"H-Hey, who's—" he broke off into a choked, gravelly wheeze, still trying to see what was going on among the small dunes that had come out of the sand falling from its cyclical form. "Who's there?"
On second look, hidden among the small hills was something new—something like small, glistening domes that looked too much like ice lay nestled between them.
But the villain... the villain was using sand and wind, not...
"Ya know, I love y'all, but I dunno if I wanna be the one waiting around when the pros find us! So let's go, we should—"
"Camie, please. You were doing just as much as we were."
...oh, god.
Those voices were too, too familiar.
"Well, Todoroki... maybe you left some amount of physical evidence, but she has somewhat of a point? We did our part, we weren't seen, so... let's leave while we can, maybe?"
Izuku rounded the corner of a filthy building, caught sight of the three people in front of him, and sighed.
Don't make me take you all to the police, too.
"Really?" He asked, stepping into view. "I would've thought you all knew better than to intervene in a situation like this."
Todoroki, Camie, and Yaoyorozu just stared at him with a dumb look on their faces, some strange combination of oh shit and thank god, it's only him.
Great.
"Hey, Midoriya!" Camie greeted, guilt flaring on every one of her features. "Hah, funny seeing you here! That victory... that, uh, that sure was something!"
Is this how I sound when I'm nervous?
"I'm on duty right now, so just call me Valiant. Please." Izuku sighed, crossed his arms over his chest, and shook his head. "There were evacuation alerts sent out. Why did you three think it was a good idea to stay here?" Then, with a point towards one of the ice domes and a small glare at Todoroki— "Excuse me. Stay out here and use your quirks without explicit permission."
"Shit, he really does have daddy energy."
"Would you like to repeat that for me, Utsushimi Camie?"
"... sorry, Valiant."
"Hmph. Better."
At the very least, the three students had the audacity to look mildly ashamed. Izuku found it a bit strange that Katsuki wasn't there, considering he'd said he was hanging out with his friends, but...
Guess that means he wasn't a part of this whole fiasco. Good on him.
A fresh wave of dizziness washed over him as he looked around again, trying to make sense of the few civilians wandering the streets and the still-weird ice domes littered across the small plaza. The sand had stung, had scraped his skin raw and left his cheeks to bruise and bleed rivulets that soaked into the sturdy fabric of his hero costume. Izuku would have to go to the hospital after this and get himself taken care of, but at the very least...
Most of these civilians... they don't look like they're in rough shape? How did they avoid the storm?
He shook his head, palm firm to his temple, and sighed.
One thing at a time.
"What exactly were you three doing out here?" Izuku said, gesturing to the structures. "Todoroki, I know this was your quirk. Explain."
"Well, we were just hanging out, and the sandstorm started before a warning had been sent out." Todoroki shrugged. "Didn't really know what else to do, so... for the people that got caught out on the streets, I started making those shelters. Momo made blankets for the people we put inside, and Camie helped to lead people to safety with her illusions when the winds picked up, and Katsuki tried to get a hold of you when it started. He didn't know why you weren't picking up when you'd just been replying to his texts. I was just working on melting down the last of the structures when you showed up, and..."
Wait... "Wait, what?" Izuku's eyes shot open, any pain fading away. "You—you're telling me that Kacchan was out here!?"
The three students exchanged an awkward glance, a series of nervous, mumbled laughter, and eventually a small yeah, he was.
Those explosions... those explosions, I knew I heard explosions, I did, and...
"Where is he?" He asked, more a plea than a question. "You said Kacchan's here, but he's not with you, so where is he?"
Where is he? Shit, where's my fucking boyfriend!? Where's—
"...Deku?"
Sand-covered hair, clothes, and a face nearly as bloody as his own appeared behind the small group of students, and for as many words as he had to say to Katsuki about whatever stupid thing he'd done, all his body could do was run forward, pull him into his arms, and know that he was there.
Kacchan, Kacchan, Kacchan...
"You look... y'look like shit," Katsuki mumbled, face buried in the fabric of Izuku's well-made hero suit. "You the one who took it down...?"
"Mhm, and... were you helping out with these rescues?"
"...you gonna be angry if I say yes?"
A part of me wishes I was.
"Not as much as I should be," Izuku whispered, still low and raspy. "M'sorry I didn't reply to your texts. Ochako took my phone."
"Hmph. Figures," Katsuki said, face still buried deep in Izuku's chest. "I don't blame her. S'what you get for texting me on duty."
"Shut up, or I will report you for using your quirks like this."
"You wouldn't."
"Wanna try me? You—you really wanna try me?"
"You're a fuckin' softie, Deku, so—"
"Excuse me, Pro Hero Valiant?"
...oh no.
He pulled himself from Katsuki at top speed, spinning on unsteady heels to face the new voice and hope he didn't look as nervous as he felt.
Just be a civilian, just a civilian, just someone who needs help and saw me and—
A camera. A microphone. A too-familiar woman, and a disappointed frown searing into his face.
"Um," he said, stupidly. "Did you need something?"
The reporter—the same damn one he'd run into last night—tapped her foot against the gravelly ground and stared at the two of them, hardly a foot apart.
Leave. Leave. Leave.
"I admit, I am a little curious as to why you were just engaging in such close contact with Bakugou Katsuki." Those eyes watched them like a hawk, laser-focused and missing nothing. "Or, more telling may be the rate at which you two pulled apart. It's almost as if you were doing something you shouldn't."
"Hey, why don't you—"
"Ka—Bakugou." Izuku grit out, an arm stretched in front of his boyfriend. "I ordered you to go over with the other students, didn't I?"
"When did you—"
"Bakugou."
That name was acid on his lips, but nothing stung worse than the thought that he might've just fucked everything up because of a simple, delirious hug. But despite the lie, the complete lie, Katsuki obeyed with naught a question and left.
I'm sorry. I was too out of it. I wasn't thinking. I should've been paying attention. I shouldn't have ran when I saw your face.
"Pro Hero Valiant, would you mind answering a few questions for me about this incident?" The reporter pushed, but this time, he had little choice but to concede.
"Happy to oblige." Leave me alone. Leave us alone.
At least this time, he could pretend the rasp was because of the sand.
"Alright, here we go." That microphone was too close, too close to his lips. "You look like you took a beating in there. Could you give me a short playback of the fight?"
The hardest part about this interview would be keeping himself from breaking down.
"Of course." Teeth grit, fists clenched. "I was out on patrol with Pro Heroes Uravity and Red Riot, and off in the distance, we noticed the dust cloud beginning to form. They took the perimeter evacuations while I targeted the source of the sandstorm." This is fine. This is fine. "The sandstorm continued to grow as I ran in, but I took out the villain easily once I made it through the worst of the storm."
"Took out the villain, huh?" Those words were piercing, scathing. "Is that what that body over there was? The one left abandoned to be found by the police?"
"Don't act like I killed the villain," Izuku hissed, hardly able to reign himself in. "There was a sizable amount of area damage, and the shouting from civilians in the vicinity made rescuing my new top priority."
"But you still left the villain there, didn't you?" The reporter leaned in, absolutely unwavering in her resolve. "You left the villain that caused all of this havoc alone?"
"Again, keeping an unconscious person company was not my top priority, so please stop making assump—"
"I'm not making assumptions, Valiant. What I'm asking for are the facts."
Oh. My. God.
"The facts!?" Izuku bristled, fury bursting at the seams. "What, so you can take them out of context and try to wreck whatever public image I have left even more? Why the hell do you people keep trying to—"
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. I... I have to...
He could feel the tears beading in his eyes, hear the crack in his own voice start to grow further, further.
I'm being recorded. I can't—fuck, I can't afford to screw this up.
"...yes, I left the villain alone after I defeated them," he finally admitted, the sour half-truth rancid in his throat. "My... my sincerest apologies for the outburst."
The reporter nodded, and Izuku felt sicker than he'd been in the center of that storm.
"Thank you for the answer, Valiant." I hate it when you say my name. "Also, do you have any insight as to why these four U.A. students are at the scene of the crime?"
Why are you bringing them into this!?
Saying they were illegally using their quirks to rescue would be an issue. Saying it was a simple coincidence could spark theories he didn't want.
What option can I use? What options do I have?
"I granted them permission to help in the crisis," he stammered, hoping his voice hadn't cracked yet. "They're, uh, third years. I've helped out with their class before. And they all have their provisional licenses, so when I was unable to contact backup—I, um, wasn't able to reach other heroes because the service in the middle of the storm was completely gone—and with their quirks, it seemed reasonable to have them help out in the spur of the moment. I've since rescinded their permissions to fight, but that's why they're here."
Believe me, please, please.
The reporter remained silent for a long, long moment.
Was that an answer that worked? Was that an answer that's safe?
"Last question, Valiant," came the reporter again, and Izuku could've cried from relief at getting past just that question. "Could you explain to me what you and Bakugou Katsuki, recent winner of U.A. High's sports festival, were doing together just before this interview?"
I'm being recorded.
"We—"
Think. Please, even if it's just for now!
"Bakugou and I—" Stay calm. Stay calm. "Bakugou was lightly injured during the fight. I was checking up on his injuries."
"Checking up on his injuries." The reporter raised an eyebrow. "Is that what they're calling—"
"Hey, Valiant!"
Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god, Ochako, I love you so much.
"Hey there!" Ochako said, appearing at Izuku's side in an instant. "Ah, sorry if I interrupted something! But Valiant, the police wanted to get a report from you, so I'd strongly recommend going all the way to the other side of the plaza and getting that taken care of!"
At any other point in time, Izuku might've made a snide comment about her not-so-subtle directions, but considering the situation, just nodding and doing as he was told would certainly be his best option right now.
Other side of the plaza. Right. Right.
Granted, the police were there when he arrived, but so was Kirishima and the students. His friend gave him a pat on the back, Katsuki hung out awkwardly on the edge of the group, and he was asked—professionally, this time—about the accident. That said, he did slip a little white lie about giving the students permission to use their quirks into the discussion, figuring it was the least he could do to credit them for the good they'd done.
The lingering problem, though, was the fact that the damn reporter had mentioned Katsuki by name on a recording that would more than likely be broadcasted.
And I'm... I know I'm not a great actor.
He didn't speak to Katsuki throughout the whole conversation, just stuck to answering routine questions and going through the motions. The reporter hadn't gone live until after they'd separated, and no other news source had been in the area. Sure, he might've looked a little constipated while answering, but he hadn't said anything directly incriminating.
That said, I have to hope that she didn't take any pictures of us hugging. I hate having to put my bets on this, but... it's not like I have another choice.
The last thing Izuku wanted to do was grovel to the media, to beg and plead for the smallest mercy to leave hints of he and Katsuki's relationship alone. He wasn't the type to deal with them in the first place, much less get on his knees and pray for even the barest reprieve.
Now, though?
If that's what it takes to remedy this... if that's what I have to do...
Izuku took pride in his work. Fighting, saving, heroing—that was what he'd built himself on all his life.
How much of myself will I have to lay bare before this is all taken care of?
"Valiant, I think that's all we need from you for now," the policeman said, shaking his hand. "I'm sorry the media was giving you trouble again, but we really appreciate your efforts on the field."
Right. Yes. I'm not awful at my job.
"I'm here to serve." Izuku dipped his head, managed a small, honest smile. "The students are in the clear too, right?" He'd pushed the legality of their narrative as hard as he could, because for as much as they had broken the law, the benefits certainly outweighed whatever consequences they'd garnered.
"...I think we can keep the details of this one to the field." The policeman smiled, looking over the students. "Did that reporter ask you about them specifically?"
"I—ah, yes."
"I'm going to talk to her about censoring the footage, then. Personally, I..." The policeman wiped his brow. "W-Well, I'd rather not get U.A. involved if I can avoid it. Dealing with the administration can be a pain, to say the least."
Censoring the footage? Wait... hold up, that'd mean—
"You're gonna tell her not to release it?" Izuku's jaw dropped, some sudden spark of hope flaring up within him. "Oh god, that'd be—t-that'd be really great. And it'd, um, definitely make your lives easier!"
The policeman chuckled. "Your issues with the press aren't in any way a secret. I'll talk it out with her and get it sorted out, okay?"
Okay. Okay. Yes, yes, that'd be great...!
He got out a small noise of agreement, trying to contain his excitement at the prospect of that pointed interview never going public. But one more handshake, one more round of thanks to Izuku, Kirishima, (and the students) later, and the small group was left alone again.
"Dude, what happened with that reporter?" Kirishima asked, a slight twinge in his voice. "Ochako saw you talkin' with her, and she was all like 'oh shit', and then ran off to save you from the interview? Was it really that bad?"
"I mean, it could've been wor—"
"Midoriya Izuku, you are one helluva dumb bitch!"
Oh, god.
Ochako stormed up to the small group, arms crossed over her chest and a tight frown on her face. "Are you so out of it that you didn't realize that you're still in public? Do you really not remember what happened last night and this morning!?"
"Come on, I hardly did anything!" Izuku protested. "Not my fault the media likes to blow everything out of proportion."
"Izuku. We literally just met with your PR team to talk about you and Bakugou, and then you decide it's a good idea to go and hug him in the middle of the battle's aftermath!" Ochako threw her hands in the air, completely exasperated. "I saw you two from across the field, and I couldn't make it fast enough to stop it before it started, but god. You—you are so fucking stupid!"
...whoops.
"W-Well, when you put it that way..."
"Hey," Katsuki interrupted, finally speaking for the first time since the semi-interrogation had begun. "I... I hugged him back. Wasn't like, a one-way thing, so don't take it out on him."
Kacchan... hey, you don't have to...
But Ochako's gaze softened upon seeing the small frown over Katsuki's own, and she backed down, if only a little.
"Bakugou, I know you're smart," Ochako said, the barest hint of a smile visible on those cheeks. "So don't be stupid, alright?"
"Right, right." His boyfriend's slightly-shadowed face dipped down, seemingly unable to meet Ochako's eyes. "Won't happen again."
Kirishima and Ochako went on to talk to the students for a bit longer about technicalities, about things they should and shouldn't have done, and only after they were done did Katsuki appear by his side again, a bit quieter than before.
"Didn't mean to get you in trouble." His boyfriend tried to apologize, only for Izuku to cut him off with a wave of his hand and an it's okay, was my fault too.
"So, uh..." Izuku's hand ran through the back of his still-sandy hair. "Think you'd be okay with rescheduling that date night?"
"Okay!?" His boyfriend choked. "God, Deku, I want you to see a goddamn doctor before I shove my dick in that gritty-ass mouth of yours. Tomorrow, the next day, whenever's fine. Just, um..."
His boyfriend took a quick glance around the area, then grabbed Izuku's hand before he could yank it away. "Just let me know when you're free. I—I'd really like to stay over again soon."
Me too. Me too.
"We'll make it happen. Promise." Izuku said, but upon Katsuki's friends returning to his side, realized that their time was about up. "I'll text you after I get back from treatment."
Things are gonna be okay. We'll see each other again soon, and I'll get to talk to him and hold him and kiss him and fuck him and it'll... yeah. It'll be good.
But as Katsuki walked off, all Izuku wished he could do was kiss him goodbye.
Can't let it get to me. That's just how it is.
Izuku made to leave the scene himself to head to the hospital as well, but before he could get more than ten feet away, Ochako grabbed him by the arm, effectively stopping him in his tracks.
"Hey, um..."
Huh? Why is she so quiet all of a—
"That reporter." Ochako pulled him in closer, voice so low only he could hear it. "After the end of the interview, she told me to tell you something."
"Look, I don't wanna hear a single thing from her, so—"
"She said you're running out of time."
...o-oh.
"Bullshit." Izuku swallowed, trying to pretend there weren't chills climbing up his spine and then crawling, crawling back down. "The—the policeman said he was going to tell her to censor the recording, and she doesn't have anything else, and—"
"Look, I don't know what she does and doesn't have either, but I don't think she was just talking about herself." Ochako bit her lip, visibly nervous. "Please, just... be careful. I don't want to see them make your life miserable again. And I know, I know it's like the last thing you wanna do, but it might be worth it to take some time off, you know? Go underground for a bit, let the media talk die down..."
"What, so it can resurface as soon as I come back?" He scowled. "No. I won't change the way I'm working because the press wants to know who's in my bed."
"Bakugou's going to get involved."
Shut up.
"If the media wants to drag my name through the mud again, then fine. I don't care what they say about me." Izuku said, hoping he sounded less angry than he felt. "And if they want to get him involved, then I'll put whatever they want out there. Mark my words, I—"
His body—no, his legs itched—and Izuku knew it wasn't because of the sand.
"I'll give them the best goddamn distraction they could ask for."
I think I'm running out of time to do much else.