Work Text:
“Excuse me…?”
Hizashi couldn’t help but wonder if the battery of his hearing aids was running low again.
“Objectively.”
The Hero Public Safety Commission representative --or the stickler for short, as Hizashi had mentally dubbed him in his inability to gather enough investment to memorize his name-- who had summoned him here to supposedly speak about his Hero career, gestured vaguely in Hizashi’s direction.
Well… More precisely, he gestured at all of him.
“Objectively speaking, you are pretty,” the stickler added and sat straighter up his chair. Someone should have colored Hizashi surprised at this point, because he wasn’t expecting the dude to be able to sit any more like he had a cane up his--
“You have nice features,” he continued, clearly missing Hizashi’s distaste with how this conversation was going “And despite your--” his eyes very pointedly scanned over Hizashi’s leather jacket and its extra spiky shoulder-pads “--packaging, you have managed to attract certain demographics.”
Sure he had, and not thanks to your organization, bro.
Newbie Pro Hero with loud personality. Self-sacrificial and badass to a tee. Endearing human flaws. Excellent fashion sense and taste in music --thank you very much-- and all of that at barely twenty one.
Of course Present Mic was appealing to certain demographics.
“You are interested in media entertainment, aren’t you?” The stickler continued to speak when Hizashi failed to find a proper way to respond.
It wasn’t that he didn’t have a comeback, it was more that… HPSC did kind of have the power to defame him if he ended up running his mouth as he felt it right now. Having his fashion sense insulted by a man wearing a terrible plaid tie was one thing, but having them chip strongly on his career because he insulted their bureaucracy? Better be cautious with that.
“Radio,” Hizashi replied and hoped that he didn’t sound as annoyed as he felt.
“I am interested in radio, specifically. I have a voice quirk, as you might be aware?”
If the stickler noticed the sarcastic tone, he didn’t show it. Instead he clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh as if Hizashi was being unreasonable.
“Yes, I know. But why? That’s kind of a waste, isn’t it?”
“Because that’s what I like!” The water glass he had been offered vibrated threateningly. Hizashi didn’t raise his voice much but catching the right frequency would be enough to shatter it. He took a deep breath and composed himself. “What exactly am I here for?”
“What do you think you’re here for?” The stickler asked, not seeming particularly bothered by the small ‘outburst.’
Hizashi glared. It wasn’t that he didn’t have many reserves of patience to offer, but this particular occasion didn’t feel worthy of his restrain.
“You want a poster boy,” he stated. If they stopped beating around the bush, maybe he could get this over with already.
Bad-tie-man had the audacity to smile and give Hizashi a patronizing nod of approval.
“Precisely, Mic. Appearances are the beginning and end to preserve good relations between Heroes and regular citizens. You have the looks already, and your persona is appropriate for handling crowds. If you decided to work with us and became a little more camera-friendly, we could put you on the top ten –if not top three- popularity chart when it comes to Heroes. You could help us keep common folk happy.”
“Camera friendly.”
There was no much hiding the pure un-amusement and borderline disgust Hizashi’s tone held at this point as he repeated these words.
The stickler’s plastic smile fell slightly, being replaced with a more professional strictness.
“You have a style. We respect that and wouldn’t dream of changing it completely. You are remembered by it after all, but we would have to implement some edits to show off your features more. Your fashion choices are so loud that I doubt people even notice what’s underneath it.”
Yeah. That was kind of the whole point, actually.
Hizashi loved the persona he had created. Present Mic was a great escape for him. He loved to entertain while being him. He loved to save people and be as over the top as he felt like, without worrying about how that looked, since it was part of the act. As an over-the-top Hero, acting the part didn’t raise many questions. He loved forgetting Hizashi’s problems when he strolled around like a peacock in Present Mic’s shiny leather clothes too.
He also loved how rarely he was recognized when he wasn’t Present Mic.
Hizashi needed some time of his own, to be as silent and still as he felt like, with no expectations to be anything more than a lazy pile. Kayama and Tensei didn’t mind him when he was like that. Aizawa… Well. Who knows what Aizawa was thinking about Present Mic, these days. Or even Hizashi for the matter.
The sleazy voice, coming up after translating his silence as an invitation to continue, was welcome this time.
That was a line of thinking he would rather avoid for the time being. It only ended to long alcohol-filled nights and Hizashi couldn’t afford that again. Present Mic was supposed to be on patrol tonight and he already had to ask Kanaya to cover for him twice this week.
“I’ve noticed you’re growing your hair.”
Taken aback by the observation, Hizashi’s fingers reflexively came to brush the hair, styled to heavily fall on one side and kept there with many layers of hair-spray. Hizashi had yet to decide how to style with the additional length so for now he had settled on the emo-punk look. It went well with Present Mic and nobody expected appearance-consistency so early in a Hero’s career (plus he hated people touching his hair and having it gelled discouraged them from it). The audience knew they would get Present Mic 2.0, 3.0 etc. It happened with most heroes.
“Yes?” He asked, sounding much more tired than he did a few moments ago, still feeling the remnants of pain that came whenever he thought of Aizawa these days. “What about it?”
“It is what drew our attention actually,” the stickler almost sung with a grin that made Hizashi fidget uncomfortably in his seat. “Made us take a closer look. Notice your potential.”
“Glad to know that through my work as a hero, it was my hair getting fancier that made you notice my potential,” Hizashi replied without even bothering to fake politeness. This felt like it was supposed to be a compliment but to Hizashi it sounded very much like an insult towards his abilities. “Cool priorities, there.”
This time, the stickler didn’t give him an eye-roll, but Hizashi felt the spirit of it passing over him anyway.
“I wouldn’t have called you if we didn’t already know of your skill.”
“But you did call me, because ‘I am pretty,’” the last words rolled off Hizashi’s lips laced with three doses of sarcasm and two of venom.
“It’s a package deal,” the stickler’s reply was drowned at the end by the sound of Hizashi’s chair scrapping against the floor as the blond stood.
“And a deal you won’t be getting,” the sleazy sweetness in his own voice, was overstated enough to make sure it was seen as fake. “Thank you for the interest. I think I am doing fine with my current agency.”
Hizashi expected to be interrupted before reaching the door. HPSC should start hiring less predictable people, with less predictable approaches (though it might be a good thing, no unpleasant surprises).
“Mic. Even if you don’t work with us, keep my words in mind. Image is important and you could use it.”
“Certainly,” Hizashi sang without even sparing the man a glance.
The door closed soundlessly behind him.
The bang came a week later.
Hizashi made damn sure that the fight in which he debuted his extra-gelled, pointy, cockatiel-stage-one hair was captured on camera and broadcasted on skyscrapers. It wasn’t even the final touch to the message he wanted to send to the Commission. It would take a few more months or maybe even years, but boy, could he not wait for their commentary on the upcoming moustache.
