Third Person Omniscient
"Oi! Nerd, catch!" Midoriya, who had been fiddling with Mina's makeup brushes, startles, scrambling to grab the flying object, barely succeeding. "What is this?"
Izuku had been a bodyguard for Bakugou for eight days now, which, according to Kirishima, was 'a fucking miraculous turn of events.' Midoriya wasn't sure what that meant, but as he stared down at the brass object in his hand, that very sentence echoed in his mind.
"It's a key to our house, dumbass." Bakugou grumbles as Mina tampers with his hair. Iida promised that Bakugou was actually going to shoot today, but looked disappointed when he had said it, so Midoriya wasn't so sure.
"Someone's embarrassed." Mina whispers under her breath, but the phrase was loud enough for both Katsuki and Izuku to hear.
"Like hell, I am!" Bakugou shouts, and Mina's casual expression quickly turns angry.
"Don't move when I'm doing your hair!"
Midoriya, who had grown used to being perplexed by Ashido, ignores the comment. "Hey Ashido, I thought you were a makeup artist, why do you always do his hair?"
Mina looks up, startled by the question. "Normally, Jiro does it, since she's certified and all, but Kaminari convinced her to vacation with him and Shinso, and little miss princess won't let anyone else touch his hair."
Is everyone connected to one another in some way, shape, or form here? Midoriya wonders.
"How long has Shinso been doing Judo?" Izuku asks, curious.
Mina shrugs. "I'm not really sure. Aren't you some Judo master or something?"
"Not reall-"
"He kicked Monoma's ass the other day." Bakugou intrudes.
"No way! Please tell me you got that on camera!" Mina squeals, suddenly euphoric.
"I didn't, but it was fucking awesome," Katsuki answers, "he beat Shinso too."
The greenette pretended not to notice the eschewing of when Midoriya had kicked Katsuki's ass.
Mina looks over at the Judoka, with a look of shock. "I knew you did, Judo, but you're... such a small bean!"
Izuku wonders whether or not he should be offended. "I did, you know, go to The Olympics, so I would hope I'd be at least slightly decent at what I do." He mumbles, fiddling with Katsuki's house key.
Bakugou glances at Midoriya. "You went to The Olympics?"
Izuku facepalms. "Yes, I did- Do you not listen to anything I say? I told you that on the first day I started working for you."
Katsuki racks his brain, trying to remember and comes up with nothing. He had known that Midoriya was talented with Judo, but to have gone to The Olympics was a whole other level. Suddenly, Shinso assuring everyone that he was going to lose, and his surety that he was no match for Midoriya made more sense.
"So, you just decided to beat up Shinso for fun, then." Bakugou resolves, shaking his head. "I never knew you were such an asshole."
Izuku's eyes widen. "I-It wasn't like that! I just really wanted to spa-"
Mina breaks out laughing, grabbing her abdomen, and the bodyguard stupidly realizes that they were joking.
Before any of the three people in the room can speak, Iida bursts into the room. "Ashido! You were supposed to have Bakugou ready five minutes ago! What's the hold-up?!"
Mina peers at her watch. "Shit," she murmurs, suddenly serious, she looks up at Tenya, "tell Yaoyorozu and Aizawa that I'll have in him there in a few minutes."
The assistant gives a look that read, 'why should I tell them?'
"Iida..." Mina warns, her glare piercing.
"Fine." He grits out, slamming the door behind him.
Ashido begins to work at a speed that Izuku didn't believe was possible, alternating between applying gel to Bakugou's hair, and then baking his face. Midoriya could only watch as the artist finished Katsuki's look.
Mina hums as she evaluates the actor. "It'll just have to do, we don't have time for you to drop by the wardrobe area since Hagakure is obsessive as fuck about that, so stay here, and I'll get it myself." Mina dusts her hands on her apron and strolls out of the room.
"For the record, I really didn't do it for fun; I was just curious is all. Just because someone didn't go to The Olympics, doesn't mean that they're not competent. Shinso was good... He just could use a few improvements." Even though the greenette knew Kacchan was just teasing, he felt the need to clarify. Not that he cared what the blonde thought.
"I'm sure you didn't." Katsuki mocks, smirking.
The actor, without a doubt, knew that Midoriya wasn't the type to flaunt his skills, but beyond that, he wasn't sure. When watching Izuku and Shinso spar, Bakugou was faced with the proposition that Midoriya had allowed the fight to go on.
"You did tease the hell out of Shinso, though." Bakugou casually states, testing the theory of his.
Izuku turns his head. "What do you mean?"
"Did you not let him pin you in the beginning?"
Midoriya considers this. "Hm... I'm not sure; it's complicated. By Shinso's disposition and where he puts his weight, it was easy to deduce that he'd want to end the spar quickly. I've been really bored lately, to be honest. For most of my life, I've been faced with opponents who were better than me in some shape or form, so not having that has been an adjustment for me. So when I got to do a match with Shinso, I really didn't want it to end. I wouldn't say I 'let' him pin me, but in a way, maybe I involuntarily did. Does that make any sense?"
Bakugou blinks and discerns that he hadn't really been fair to Midoriya. He was so pissed that he was attacked and then forced into getting a bodyguard, that he stopped seeing Izuku as anything more than a bodyguard. Huh.
Before Izuku even gets the chance to panic, Mina tramples in holding a hanger with a black garment cover hanging on it. She paces over to Katsuki, shoving the outfit at him and shooing him to get dressed.
"Momo and Aizawa are going to kill me..." Mina mumbles, chewing on her bottom lip, as Bakugou goes behind a curtain rack.
"Hm?" Izuku halfheartedly questions.
"Aizawa's the director, and Yaoyorozu is the first assistant director. Aizawa is always sleep-deprived, which makes him a little irritable, which in turn, makes Yaoyorozu irritable."
Midoriya felt that the name Aizawa was familiar, but he couldn't place where he had heard it. "Why do I feel like I know the name 'Aizawa?'" He wonders aloud.
Mina inclines her head. "Well, while he's not really famous, he's very well-respected in the acting community. Oh! And he's also married to Present Mic!"
"The guy Kirishima's doing a collab with?"
Ashido raises an eyebrow, but nods. "Most would recognize him by his music, but that works too."
Katsuki makes a frustrated groan, before walking out from behind the curtain. "Why am I always put in outfits like these?!"
Izuku tries not to notice how his faded blue jeans sling low on his waist, or how tight the maroon shirt hugs his muscled torso, and forces his eyes to remain level. "W-What do you mean?"
Bakugou growls and tugs at his shirt. "They're always so goddamn tight!"
Mina points to the door. "Out you go. Have fun!"
"Should I go with you?" Midoriya asks, not sure what he wanted the answer to be.
The blonde scoffs. "Don't bother, stay with Mina, I'll get you in a few hours."
"I have things I have to do! I can't watch him today!"
What am I? A dog? Izuku bitterly questions.
"Deal with it." Bakugou commands, exiting the room.
Mina huffs and looks at Midoriya, a smile slowly spreading on her lips. "What do you say I do your makeup? Doesn't that sound fun?"
"Um, no thank you, I'll pass. I already have a friend who's constantly trying to give me makeovers."
"But are they professional makeup artists?" Mina inquires.
"No, they're a pilot who teaches aviation on the side."
Mina wiggles her brows. "Potential love interest?"
Izuku lets out a curt laugh. "They're a she, do I look heterosexual to you?"
Ashido considers this. "True enough. It's okay being gay is way more fun anyway. Us, pansexuals are always confused as hell."
Midoriya rolls his eyes. "I think people are generally confused as hell."
Mina sighs, and then her eyes brighten once more. "What do you say we go watch Bakubabe act?"
"But didn't he tell me to stay here?"
The makeup connoisseur tuts at me. "Who says he has to know? They're filming inside the studio today, so there will be lots of places to sneak around."
"But won't we get in the way?" Midoriya worries.
Mina just smirks. "Trust me; I've got this."
-----
"Right here!" Mina whispers, ushering Midoriya over and sitting on a black wooden box.
"We're not even hiding." The greenette notes, taking his seat next to Ashido.
The artist waves him off. "We're like- fifty meters away, Bakubro will be too focused to even notice us."
"I doubt we're more than ten meters from him." Izuku begins to worry about Mina's measuring abilities.
"Whatever, the point is, the dumbass probably won't notice us." Ashido adjusts her antenna headband.
"So, do you see the guy with the grayish scarf with the dark circles he won't let me fix for him?"
Midoriya's eyes scan the area until they find who Ashido was referring to, before nodding.
"That's Aizawa, he's the big boss, the woman to the left is Yaoyorozu Momo, she's the first assistant director. She started out being an apprentice to Aizawa and then moved her way up. Her family is pretty big in the entertainment community, so that helped a lot." Ashido recalls, her face turning softer.
"Do you like her?" Midoriya pries.
Mina blinks at the bodyguard's directness. "N-no!" She lowers her voice. "I just admire her, is all."
Izuku knew she was lying, but understood that she wasn't ready to face her feelings yet, so he laid off.
Ashido's ears prick up when she hears a string of commands. "Midoriya, look! They're shooting!"
Midoriya looks over, observing the scene. The false room was arranged to look like the waiting room of a hospital. Bakugou leaned against the baby blue wallpaper, pinching his nose.
"I think this is a flashback scene, if I remember correctly, which would explain the wardrobe choice for Katsuki." Mina perceives aloud.
An older man with a lab coat that had a name tag labeled 'Dr. Aoki' pinned to it, strolls in, looking enraged, he tosses his clipboard onto one of the cushioned chairs, and points at Katsuki.
"How dare you touch my daughter!" The doctor shouts, and Bakugou flinches at his gaze.
"I didn't, s-sir, I swear." The blonde stammers out, and Midoriya widens his eyes, seeing Katsuki act like this was utterly foreign to him.
Dr.Aiko scowls. "Please, I know what your mother did for a living. Once a whore, always a whore."
Katsuki grits his teeth. "She was not a whore." He mutters softly, his hands tightened.
"Who says I was calling her a whore?" The short actor maliciously growls.
Bakugou hits his fist against the drywall, his voice still soft. "I returned your daughter to you; I'll be going now, sir." He makes his way to leave, shoulders slumped.
The doctor grabs Katsuki's arm, grip unrelenting. "If I ever see you around here again, you're going to wish I hadn't."
Bakugou, his expression startled, shakes off the man and quickly walks out of the room.
There's a moment of silence, as the doctor paces the room, before a girl with pastel pink hair, slowly walks in. "I told you he didn't do anything."
The male straightens his chemically-white coat and picks up his clipboard. "Do us both the pleasure of shutting your mouth, Ayano." He's about to walk out when a voice interrupts him.
"Cut! Hatsume, your facial expressions were wrong all through that!" Aizawa shouts, "we've been over this, vocals aren't enough! Your father just insulted you! Show some goddamn emotions!"
Mina chuckles lowly and turns to Midoriya. "Sorry, she and I went to college together when we both believed we wanted to be engineers, and she got on my nerves a lot."
"It's fine," Midoriya mutters, eyes still on the filming area, the question that he had been carrying for days, resurfacing. "Could I ask you something?"
Mina nods. "Of course!"
Izuku explains the backstory of why Midoriya had pinned Monoma, and how the actor had sent his manager to parade as a maid for Bakugou. "I mean, what Monoma did was a Grade A asshole thing to do, but Kacchan got really mad."
Mina fiddles with the bracelets on her wrist, twisting them this way and that, before explaining. "Well, Bakugou does have quite a temper, but it's probably because Monoma probably just sent Kendo as a maid to allude to the fact that that's what Bakubro's mother used to be. The two of them have always been at each other's throats. Bakugou's mother worked for the Monoma residence, and Monoma loves to mock Katsuki about it.
I don't think his mom being a maid matters, and no one else did, mainly because everyone knew not to mess with Bakubabe's mom, but tease Bakugou about something long and that dumbass will snap. To be honest, though, I think it's good for him to have someone like Monoma around, it keeps his asshole personality dormant."
Midoriya considers this, some of his other questions about why Bakugou was such a stickler for cash being answered, and other questions simply being amplified. He glances back at the blonde, as he recounts the scene he had just performed, his face completely different from the one Midoriya had familiarized himself with.
He wanted to know more.
○●○●○●○●
Katsuki Bakugou, Slightly Violent Flashback and Graphic Slur Warning
I walk through the sidewalks of L.A., my hands in my pockets. I ignored the feel of my phone vibrating against my skin; I knew that it was Kirishima, that I should answer him and apologize. The argument had been stupid as fuck, after all. Yet, I don't accept the call, and eventually, it goes to voicemail.
I sidestep, deciding to take a detour instead of going my usual route to my hotel. My feet lazily hit the pavement, my movements slow and robotic. I needed to shower, I had been filming for hours in the sun for the past few days now, and my skin had begun to golden.
"Excuse me? My daughter's a huge fan of yours. I was wondering if I couldn't get an autograph." A man with a scruffy goatee, who wore a hoodie that concealed his eyes, holds up a small notecard and a Sharpie, his skin nearly translucent.
I had had a long day, and already hated signing dumbass autographs, so I simply shook my head. "Can't. Have stuff to do; ask another time." I bow my head and make my way to leave, but the male grabs my forearm, his digits digging into the skin.
One thing that I would never forget was how cold his hands were, how when he touched me; I knew something was off, how a weak, defenseless, shiver went through my spine.
"Too bad, I wasn't asking." He rasps out, he twists my arm against my back and shoves me against the brick of a wall.
Another thing that I would never forget was the feeling of my blood seeping from my forehead and into my eyes or the pounding in my head like my mind was trying to escape from what was happening to my body.
My vision blurs as he pulls me away from the brick, and punches me in the stomach; everything was happening too fast. I couldn't recuperate, I couldn't stop myself from falling to the ground, as he pounded into me.
I was alone, no one was dumb enough to go down this alley alone but me. Is this some sort of punishment for being weak. What was it that the Old Hag used to say...? 'Those who are always unprepared for what life throws at them, should just throw it the towel.'
I shut my eyes, the pain too intense to do anything else, it wasn't until I heard the squeak of a marker cap that I realized he had stopped attacking me.
My eyes peel open, a reddish tint over my surroundings. He was writing something on me, I tried to buck away from him, but my body wouldn't move, everything ached.
My irises struggle to focus on each letter that the sharpie imprinted on my skin.
'F...'
'A...'
'G.'
'G.'
'O.'
'T.'
Tears, unwelcome and uninvited, well up, but I refused to cry, not in front of him, not in front of this asshole, who had already heard me scream. But refusal and reality were two, very different things, and in the end, saltwater collided with red.
_____
I startle awake and throw the sheets that had been sticking to my skin, off of me. My fingernails dig into the palm of my opposite hand, the bite of it, forcing my breathing to relax.
"Babe... Did you have another nightmare?" Kirishima asks, he was sitting cross-legged at the end of the bed, the glare of his Macbook illuminating his face. His crimson hair was pulled into a low, messy ponytail. His eyes were set on me, but they didn't have a look of pity, which I was grateful for.
"I'm fine, fuck off." I grit out, my jaw tense. I'm not fine, in no way am I fine.
Eijiro sets his computer down, on the carpet, and crawls over me. He reaches over to hug me but stops. "C-Can I touch you?"
For the first few weeks, I wouldn't touch anyone, I had gotten better, and while I never would admit it, my offering to spar Midoriya had been a test, that I had passed, even if I stood in front of my bathroom sink that night and scrubbed my arms until they were bright red. When I was like this, though, my skin felt as if it were on fire, and the thought of Eijiro touching me was nauseating, but I refused to be weak, not again, so I just move my head up and down.
And when his arms wrap around me, I do feel nausea, but after a while, all I feel is safe.
Eijiro presses his forehead to mine. "You're here now. You're okay."