Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“...And then , he starts going on and on about my hands. Just droning . All about how slender they were, how soft the skin looked, blah blah blah. It was flattering at first, sure, but then it started getting into fetish-y territory, you know? I really need to stop dating other pros. You find out all the weird stuff they’re into, and you can never look at them the same ever again!”
   

“I really, really wish you wouldn’t discuss these things in public, Midnight-chan.”

“Oh please! If I can’t dish with my girlfriends, then who CAN I dish with? I bet you’ve dated a lot of weirdos too. Let me guess, they wanted you to wear the cat ears to bed~?”

“Ugh.”

Mandalay’s sigh was heavy, and cut short as she brought her coffee up to her lips for a sip. When you knew someone like Midnight for as long as she had, you came to expect the borderline inappropriate conversation. Well, not really BORDERLINE so much as very much ACROSS the line, and not so much EXPECT as ACCEPT. The trick was to not draw too much attention to yourself, in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, someone wouldn’t hear her bragging about her most recent romp, and then see YOU with her. A trick that wasn’t really working, considering they were suited up in full hero kit, and sitting at a table in Midnight’s favorite cafe. Surrounded by civilians. Civilians who couldn’t stop sneaking a peek at the two pros taking a break from their individual patrols.

She was used to it. Both the attention, and Midnight’s antics.

“Anyway,” Midnight continued, leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs, the heels of her boots clicking against the tiles floor. “That’s when I told Killer Queen I was getting a call from another pro. Usually, the fake call for backup usually works, but THEN he offers to tag along, so NOW I’ve gotta take my failing date to the scene of a crime that isn’t happening.” She paused for a sip from her mug, licking her glossy lips before continuing on, talking with her free hand as much as she did with her mouth. “Then...well, you know the rest. Thank god someone tried to hold the place up just before we left. Arresting a REAL villain makes for a great way to get out of a trashfire of a date, doesn’t it?”

“I wouldn’t...put it THAT way, but whatever works.” Mandalay offered a weary smile, the slightest twitch at her brow. “But Midnight, can you keep your voice down? People are beginning to stare.”
   

“Oh, you LOVE it.” Midnight winked back at her. She set her mug down on her plate, and blew a kiss at a passing waiter. “Why do you think I come here all the time? If you’re gonna be stared at, best to be stared at by the bunch of hunks and cuties that work here.”

Another sigh, another sip of coffee. Another inappropriate anecdote. Everything that Lunch With Midnight promised, if not a little more. And thought the subject matter was a bit risque, Mandalay wouldn’t trade it for anything else in the world.

It wasn’t uncommon to see pros going about their day, acting like regular people. They were, after all, regular people, despite being heroes that were larger-than-life, adorned in fluttering capes and stylish masks. Like anyone else, they needed moments to themselves every now and again. A quick bite at a restaurant, an on-the-go coffee, whatever they needed before they got back out on patrol. For the likes of pro heroes Mandalay and Midnight, the preferred recess was at the Rising Moon cafe in the Kiyashi Ward district shopping mall. 

They stood out among the civilians there, that early afternoon. That tended to be the case when you were decked out in flashy hero costumes. Normal folk didn’t usually have their coffee in poofy skirts and fluffy paw mittens like Shino, or in skintight jumpsuits and high-heeled boots like Nemuri. It didn’t help that the latter was flirtatiously waving at all of her fans, but Mandalay still managed to ignore the wandering eyes, more or less. 

It wasn’t like she DISLIKED interacting with fans, which she knew was an important factor of the job. But she preferred being able to chat with her friends and drink her coffee in peace.

“So, how has the team been doing?”
  

  “Hm? Oh, I’m sorry. What was that?” Mandalay blinked, looking up from her mug to Nemuri, who stared at her from behind her red glasses.
  

  “The TEAM, dear. The Pussycats. How’s Tiger and the others?” She clarified.
  

  “Ah! They’re fine. We were trailing behind in the popularity poles for a while, but Ragdoll’s a wiz with PR. Our agents are saying that we might even break out of the triple digits in the next couple of months. Especially after that cave-in at Saitama Prefecture.”
  

  “I’d HEARD about that! You and your girls did some good work, getting those workers out quickly.”

“The girls and Tiger.” Mandalay corrected.
  

  “Right! The girls and Tiger. I’m terribly sorry.”

Shino couldn’t help but smile a bit as the conversation carried on. As... eccentric as Nemuri was, sitting down and catching up with her was always nice. Especially since it was getting harder and harder to find the time for it, nowadays. Pros WERE almost always busy, after all. The good ones were always looking for something to do, even when there weren’t any reports coming in, or calls being made. It made her appreciate the little things, and the time she COULD spend with her friends from high school.

She was sure Nemuri held the same sentiment. Otherwise, she probably wouldn’t always be calling her cellphone, telling her to come out for drinks. She really was a party animal, wasn’t she?

Nemuri’s pale hand came up to run through her impressive mane of jet-black hair, arching her back and twisting just a bit. Mandalay rolled her eyes as she made a show of stretching, imagining eyes popping out of skulls when she pushed her chest out just a bit. She capped off her little performance with a satisfied sigh, looking back at Mandalay with a raised brow.

“By the way, are you feeling quite alright, Shino-san?” She asked, her playfully flirtatious voice taking on a softer, more genuine tone. She rested her chin on her wrist. “You’ve got a lot less spunk than you usually do, and it’s a bit of a wet blanket, hun. Is something wrong?”

“Oh, no. It’s nothing, really.” Mandalay waved it off, her big pawsie-mitten flapping in the air. “I just…” She paused for a moment, thinking to herself before sighing, setting her cup down on the wooden table and to the side, just in time for a waiter to saunter over and fill it back up with steaming brew. “I’ve been getting calls from mother again.”

“Oh boy.” Nemuri replied, sitting back. “Let me guess…”
   

“She’s got babies on the brain, again.” Mandalay confirmed with a nod. “She asked me why I’m not trying to look for a man. Did she FORGET that I went pro, or something?” There was annoyance in her voice, and Nemuri could sense it, nodding along to her every word. “I’m a LITTLE busy right now, especially with HQ opening up, finally . Suddenly I’M the bad guy for not wanting to have any kids yet. And with the way she’s pushing it? Maybe not EVER. She-”

Mandalay stopped when she realized she was raising her voice a bit TOO much. Now SHE was the one bringing attention over to their little table, and she could feel her face heat up as she quickly brought her mug close to her again. 

“...Sorry. I just...GAH. She drives me up the wall, is all.”

“No no, I get it.” Nemuri nodded. She crossed her arms under her chest, tapping a digit against her elbow. “If someone was nagging me up and down like that, I’d probably go haywire. Especially about something like that . I’m surprised you haven’t gone haywire on her already.” 

Suddenly, a devious grin appeared on Nemuri’s face.
  

“In fact…”

“Nemuri.”

“It almost sounds like…”

“Don’t.”

“Quite a…

“ Please .”

“ Cat -tastrophe!”

Mandalay no longer cared about anyone staring at them. Her groan could be heard throughout the restaurant, as could Nemuri’s delighted cackling. She buried her face in her mittens as Midnight basked in the glory of her joke, delighting in the carnage. Shino usually loved cat puns. All the Pussycats did! But that was bad . Really bad.

“Oooooh, why do I hang out with you.”
   

“Because you looooove me!” Midnight taunted, winking at her as her laughter subsided. Flagging down a waiter, she ordered a croissant for her friend as reparations for a terrible joke. Sending the crisply-dressed man on his way, she turned her attention back to her fellow hero, resting her cheek in her hand and her elbow on the table. “You know, not to sound like your mother or anything like that, but I think you really would make a good mommy someday, Shino.”

“You think? I couldn’t imagine it. Not right now, at least.”

“No, not right now, obviously, maybe ever! But I am saying that I always remembered you being good with kids. Anyone who works disaster zones has to be, but you’ve always had those little soft spots, haven't you?” Midnight went on with a coy smile, batting her lashes accusingly. “ Very soft spots, I remember.”

“Y-you stop that! That was a one-time thing, missy!” Mandalay retorted with a blush, sticking a mittened finger at her. “And don’t forget YOU came to visit ME!”

“Details, details~.” Midnight sipped her coffee to hide her smirk. “Really though, you ARE good with kids. You have been ever since high school. Remember that exercise we did, in Mr. Dynamite’s field basics class? You were able to get those brats to follow you wherever you wanted them to go. And you didn’t even need to use your quirk! I’m just saying, you wouldn’t make the worst mother, hun.”

Shino had to stop and consider that. It had been a long while since she’d thought about her time at U.A., save for fond reminiscing with the other members of the Wild Wild Pussycats. She hadn’t spent much time pondering her school career, especially not that far back, in the very beginning of it. But now that Midnight brought it up, she could remember that particular class as clear as day. It all seemed so long ago…

Fledgling heroes needed to learn how to interact with the public, especially with those they were rescuing. And unfortunately, more often than not, young children were the common victims of crime and natural disasters. Heroes needed to know how to handle kids, how to calm them down or how to get them to listen to you, without causing any further trauma. A small, often overlooked lesson, but an important one nonetheless.

The exercise itself has been a simple one, on paper. But Shino remembered that the way Mr. Dynamite explained it, it sounded as daunting as a battle-drill. Enlisting the help of a local kindergarten, U.A. had procured a few classes worth of toddlers, who would be the “victims” in the scenario they were training for. There was no real danger, obviously, but the task was no less difficult. In essence, each student had to guide a handful of the kids through an obstacle course, leading them through with just their words and their directions. Quirk use was allowed, if it helped, but for the most part, it was better to lead them without the use of your powers. You’d get more experience that way (not to mention more points on the exam itself.

Shino remembered that a lot of her classmates had some issues. Some got frustrated or impatient with the kids, who were easily distracted, or who ended up wandering off. She, on the other hand, found them easy to work with. Fun to work with, even! She remembered Mr. Dynamite congratulating her on her work, and on how quickly and safely she was able to get her group through the course. It hadn’t felt as difficult as she worried it would be, and if she was being honest? She was a little sad to see the kids go at the end of the day. They were too, apparently, considering one of them clung to her leg and demanded to play with her for just a little longer.

The thought of it made her smile. Hero training was never easy, but no-one could ever say that parts of it weren’t fun. And maybe Midnight did have a point about her being handy with children.

As she came back from her trip down memory lane, Mandalay binked up at Midnight, watching her from across the table. In her absence, the other woman had taken to flirting with what looked like the manager of the cafe, playing with his tie and whispering sweet nothings at him while the old man’s pale cheeks turned red. No doubt trying to procure a discount for their meal. For a moment, Mandalay considered her friend, just watching her as she cast her spell.

Midnight has always been fascinating to Shino, in many ways. She was beautiful, of course, but anyone could tell you that. Where Shino had a generous helping of muscle meant for close combat and grappling, Nemuri was a bit more lean, more agile. Her combat prowess came from her ability to dance around the enemy, as she’d seen firsthand so many times. Of course, that didn’t mean she couldn't’ deal some damage. Plenty of villains had to be carried away from a fight with Midnight, and there were more than a few petty criminals who would rather give up their stolen goods than face a full-on battle with the R-Rated Hero. That whip of hers looped around her belt probably didn’t make her any less threatening.

But that wasn’t what fascinated Shino. Everyone knew Midnight was pretty, and everyone knew she was strong. But being a fellow pro, she was one of the few people who knew the woman behind the mask. And she knew her well. Behind all that perfume and sultry talk, Midnight was a kind, passionate person. A true, proper hero, and a good friend to everyone she held dear. 

But even now, as she talked the manager down to 60% off, cupping his cheeks in her hands, Shino had to wonder if there was more to this mysterious woman. 

“...Well, what about you?” She finally asked, just after Midnight gave the manager’s cheek a thank-you peck, and sent him on his way.

“Hm?”
   

“Well...do you like kids? Do you think you’d ever see yourself as a mother?”

There was a very, very long pause. A long, drawn-out moment of silence between the two women, who stared at one another. Midnight had frozen up, her mug halfway to her lips, as had Mandalay, who bit her lower lip. The seconds ticked by without a word.

But finally, the corner of Midnight’s mouth quivered.

Mandalay net out a little snort.

And as if on cue, they both exploded into laughter.

“Oh my! OH MY! Me, a mother! Oh DO go on!” Midnight said between snorts. Her laughter was far from the seductive giggle that most people heard, instead giving way to something real. It almost sounded a bit more like a witch-cackle than anything else. “Could you imagine how screwed up that kid would be?!”

“Oh my god, oh my god ! I didn’t know how much longer I could keep it up!” Mandalay practically shrieked, holding her stomach as she almost doubled over. “I tried to keep a straight face, I tried! I really did!”

The customers in the booths on either side of the two guffawing ladies jumped at the initial outburst, and now just...didn’t know how to process what they were looking at. Midnight had to take her glasses off to wipe the tears away, and Mandalay looked like she was damn near passing out with how hard she was laughing. It was surreal to see such cut-and-dry public figures do something so...human. Something that regular people like them did every day. In the moment, though, all thoughts of accidentally drawing in too much attention was lost to the likes of Mandalay and Midnight. They were too busy laughing to care.

“Oh lord, no. Oh, absolutely not.” Midnight finally said, when she got her breath back, putting her glasses back on. “Goodness, Shino, you should warn me before you say something like that. Are you trying to kill me?”

“Sorry! I’m sorry.” The other woman wheezed back, running a stray hair back into place. 

“Absolutely not, I’m terrible with rugrats. I wouldn’t have the patience for it. And I mean, come one, I do have a figure to keep. You think spray-on fabric is gonna look the same on this bod after I’ve had a kid?” Midnight chuckled, gesturing with both hands to her torso. “No, no kids for me. Ever.”

“Didn’t think so.” Mandalay shook her head with a smile, emptying her cup and setting it back down on the table. “For the record though, I don’t think you’re THAT bad with them. Taking care of a kid takes patience, and you can be pretty patient when you want to be.”

“Ah, and there’s the rub. When I WANT to be.” Midnight tsked at her. “The day I have kids is the day All Might drops below No. 1, and we all know THAT’s not happening.”

“Not in this lifetime, at least.”

As Midnight stood up from her seat at the table, her hand came down to a pouch on her belt. She pulled out a money-clip, and started to finger through the bills. 

“You just had the croissant and the coffee, right? And the Tuna melt?”

“Oh, Midnight-san, you don’t have to pay for me, I can cover my meal.”

“Tut-tut! It’s MY treat, today.” She waggled a finger at Shino, before placing a hand on the table and leaning in. “Come on...I don’t have to make you say yes, do I? You recall I know exactly how to work those lips of yours…” Shino tried to respond, but with Midnight’s nose inches away from her own, forcing her to stare into those deep, blue eyes, she couldn’t manage it. The words died in her throat, and her face went red as she sat there, still and slack-jawed.

“I...t-that’s…”

“Good! I’m glad we got that settled.” Midnight chirped happily, straightening back up and leafing through her money-clip again. “And I’ll handle the tip. You know I love handling the-”
   

“ Stop.”

The grin on Midnight’s face threatened to split it in half. Snickering to herself, she pulled out a neat wad of bills, and set them in a stack next to her plate.

“There we go! All settled up. You can get the next one, if you want.” She said, pocketing her clip. “Maybe Tiger and the girls can come along too? It’s been too long since I’ve been able to see the entire Pussycat crew.”

“That’d be nice, yes. We’re booked up for the next few weeks, but I’ll give you a call.” Mandalay nodded back at her, her face still just a bit red. “It’s always nice to see you, Midnight-chan.”

“And you, hun.” Midnight touched the other woman’s shoulder as she passed, brushing her fingers along the bare skin. Her heels clicked loudly against the floor, but she stopped for a moment, looking back at Mandalay over her shoulder.
   

“You know...you may not be ready for it now, but life does have it’s way of surprising you. Your cousin Water Hose is a pro with a kid, right? Kota?” She asked. “Maybe ask him what it’s like, how he goes about it. Who knows, maybe it’s more manageable than you think.”

“Oh, now you’re just starting to sound like my mother.” Mandalay sighed at her, making the other woman chuckle. “What about you? Does that mean you’re gonna start looking into it too? What happened to the whole ‘the day All Might isn’t No. 1 anymore’ thing?”

“Oh trust me. I’ve got my hands full with my kitties. The only pitter-patter I wanna hear in my house is from paws, y’get me?”

“See you around, Mandalay. Be sure to give me a call if you wanna be one of those kitties~.”

Chapter Text

    Ridiculously high heels clicked loudly against the ground with the rhythmic sway of Nemuri’s hips, as she made her sojourn through the city sidewalk. Eyes up, head held high, and a coy, devilish smile on her face, the woman known as Nemuri Kayama was still on break. But the pro hero called Midnight was in full patrol mode, her gait every bit as lavish as it was purposeful. Even without, say, the bulging muscles of the likes of All Might, or the intense glare of Endeavor, she absolutely exuded power, carrying herself with an almost regal disposition.

    Mysterious.

    Sexy.

    Always ready for what was next.

    That was the Midnight brand. And she wore it like a badge of honor.

    It had only been an hour or two since her little get-together with Mandalay, the sun still hanging in the sky, though beginning to dip just a bit as the afternoon gave way to the very tip of the evening. And luckily for her, the day thus far had been uneventful. Even so, a lurid gaze scanned the city around her like a sniper taking aim, scoping out any signs of danger that she might find hiding around a corner or lurking in an alleyway.

    ...But of course, that didn’t mean Midnight didn’t have time for her adoring public.

    The streets were always a bit crowded in this part of the city, but when Midnight was on the prowl, people took notice. And they parted for her like a saint parting the waves, unable to help themselves from casting glances her way as she went, heeled boots still clacking away at the cement. Today wasn’t any different, and she just couldn’t help herself. As she caught the dreamy glances of young and old alike, she would give away a flirtatious wink here and there, always happy to wave and greet people the way a hero should. That was, after all, a part of her job when it came to patrolling. The mere presence of a hero was often enough to reassure your average citizen. And Midnight ’s presence was MUCH appreciated. Especially by the handful of crisply-dressed businessmen who walked past, double-taking on the spot when she blew them one of her famous kisses.

    Reassurance indeed… Midnight thought to herself, grinning when one of the businessmen nearly tripped over his own oxfords. She probably got more enjoyment out of this than any fan of hers getting a chance to see her in the flesh did.

    As she made her way through the streets, Midnight stopped when something moved at the very corner of her vision. Blinking behind her wide, red mask, Nemuri’s head turned, and her mane of jet-black hair jostled as she looked to her right. There, behind the glass window of a restaurant, was a young girl, likely no older than five or six. She sat at a table next to the glass with a family of three, including herself and, presumably, her mother and father. She was adorable, bouncing in her seat and pointing at Midnight as she said something that Nemuri couldn’t hear from outside the establishment. With an excited smile, the little girl waved at her, and Nemuri thought she might die right on the spot. She smiled warmly back, waving back at the little girl as she felt a giggle bubble up from her throat.

    Her smile stopped, thought, when her eyes flickered left, and she saw the kid’s mom.

    She was a good deal older than Nemuri, probably in her early 30’s, where she was only 22. And evidently, she looked far less happy than her daughter, especially when Midnight caught sight of the angry glare the lady was shooting her way. A quick glance showed that the father was staring at her with the same animosity, bringing a hand up to cover his child’s eyes, just before the mother reached up to pull the chord on the window to bring the blinds clattering down.

    “...Hmmph.” Nemuri grumbled as she straightened up, scowling at the closed blinds. Her arms crossed under her chest, and she reached up to brush a wayward hair behind her ear. “You’d think I was flipping off their kid or something…”

    Truth be told, that sort of reaction wasn’t really uncommon for Nemuri, when she went about her morning and afternoon patrols. Yes, there were her staunchly loyal fans, and those who were excited to see a pro hero at all, regardless of who it might actually be. But it wasn’t exactly breaking news to know that there were those with...shall we say, more conservative values, especially towards how pros should act and present themselves. In those circles, Midnight wasn’t really a popular part of heroic society.

    It didn’t bother her, usually. But something about the way that little girl’s parents had scowled at her left a bad taste in her mouth. Lips pursed, and now with a bit less passion in her gait, Nemuri started back down the sidewalk, leaving the restaurant behind her. She wasn’t discouraged, really. Nothing near it. More annoyed than anything else, perhaps a bit incensed. She had better things to spend precious brain power on than letting a pair of disapproving parents dwell on her mind and whisper doubt into her thoughts. So she pushed their glowels to the back of her mind, and let the coy smile return as she reached back to run her fingers through her long, long hair.

    She was just about to turn a corner when something on her belt began to buzz, and she stopped in her tracks. She paused her impromptu combing, and a slender, pale came down to her phone, secured tightly at her hip in a small, leather compartment that she quickly flipped open. She fished the little black slate out, taking a second to look at the ID of who was calling, she grinned.

    “Sawada! Sawada dearie, oh it’s so good to get a call from you! You really know how to make a lady’s day, don’t you?~” Midnight practically sang into the phone, pressing it into her ear as she stepped out of the flow of traffic, turning to lean against the cold brickwork of a nearby building. It was good timing on the call. The moment she had seen that it was one of her secretaries calling her, all thoughts of uptight restaurant patrons vanished, and her “dangerous and sexy” act dropped to something downright flowery . “Is everything alright, dearie? Not that I don’t enjoy getting a call from a handsome man like you, but I am on patrol, after all…”

    “Oh, you flatter me, Miss Midnight!” Came the response on the other end. It was a younger man’s voice, with just a bit of a metallic echo to it that she had come to know as Sawada’s. “I don’t know about handsome , but It’s an honor to get a compliment like that from Japan’s loveliest lady hero, I think!”

    “Well, that’s what being my receptionist gets you, hun. I only hire the best, and the best looking~.” She replied, her words dripping with honey. “But seriously though, is everything alright? It’s not everyday that you drop me a line, Sawada dear. A shame. I’d love to hear more from you.”

    “W-well, I’m sorry to bug you when you’re on patrol, ma’am, first and foremost!”

    “Oh darling, don’t even worry about that. I was on the tail end of it anyway.”

    “Oh! Oh, okay. Alright! Good. Well...anyway,” Sawada continued, with far more relief in his voice. “The Midnight Boys were worried that you hadn’t reported in for a while, so they wanted me to call. But on top of that, I’ve got a few messages here from the P.R. consultation agencies you were in contact with last month. I know you usually go through that stuff when you come in to file paperwork, but these seemed...um...important?”

    Well, that was certainly a surprise. Not the part about her sidekicks, the aforementioned Midnight Boys, being worried about her. Out of all her fans, they were likely the most enthusiastic, after all, and it came with the territory of being a sidekick to worry about your employer. 

    “Oooooh? Those poor sweethearts of mine. Poor babies…” Midnight said with a faux pout, before smiling and curling a finger in her hair. “You can tell them everything is fine, Sawada darling. I was just stopping in for lunch with an old friend, is all. Which reminds me! Have the boys in marketing put together a congratulations basket for the Wild Wild Pussycats, would you? They’ve got a boost to their ratings coming any day now, and I’d like to have something nice ready for them.”

    “Understood, Miss Midnight!” Came the voice at the other end of the phone. “Anything specific you want for it?”

    “Let’s go basic, to start. Some wine, maybe a few of those lavender scented bath salts. My own brand, of course.~”

    “Of course, of course.”

    “Ah! And a baby bottle. Put a baby bottle in there, for Mandalay specifically. Tell them to fill it with jelly beans or something.”

    “A...baby-bottle, ma’am?” Sawada questioned.

    “Inside joke, darling. She’ll get it.” Midnight couldn't stop the devious grin from creeping up on her face, having to bring a hand up to cover it and keep from startling any passers-by. She winked at a couple who recognized her, pointing at her and waving. “Don’t have them print anything, though. When the time comes, I’ll write up a card myself before we have it delivered.”

    “Understood, ma’am.” There was a pause, and Midnight could hear the clacking of a keyboard in the background of the call.

    “Mmmnh, you’re so good with your fingers, aren’t you, darling~?” She whispered into the phone in a sultry voice. She made it as breathy and lurid as she could possibly make it sound, and she almost cackled like a witch when she heard the keyboard come to an abrupt stop.

    “ M-Miss Midnight, I have you on speakerphone! ” Sawada whispered back, in almost a panic. This time, Nemuri actually did cackle, wrapping an arm around her stomach and almost doubling over, before she straightened up and wiped a tear from her eye. As the newest employee at her agency, Sawada was always the easiest to fluster. And she took advantage of that whenever she found the time.

    “More to the point, honeybunch…” Nemuri continued, after she got a hold of herself. “You said something about P.R. having something important for me? Normally I’d wait until I was back in the office to see it for myself, but you’ve just got me aching for more . Pray tell, what has Tachiōjō got for me this time?” She asked, genuinely curious. Ever since she’d hired him at the start of her career, her public relations manager, one Hiro Tachiōjō, had never steered her wrong.

    ...Well, nothing he’d ever suggested had landed her in trouble, in that sense. Sometimes it felt like he was a bit out of touch, but still. The Pussycats weren’t the only ones with a secret P.R. weapon.

    “U-uhm, if I read the email he forwarded me, it sounds like there’s a hygienics company based in Saitama Prefecture that would like you to model in a commercial for a new line of hair products?” Responded Sawada. “It doesn’t really look like all the details have been ironed out yet, so Mr. Tachiōjō has suggested setting up a meeting with the CEO, and the marketing team too. He said if-”

    Midnight nearly dropped the phone when a scream nearly tore her eardrum out. 

    Snapping her head up towards the sound, Nemuri blinked in confusion, before the source of the commotion was revealed to her as she peered across the street, at the parking lot of the deli that sat just a few yards away. Her eyes had been trained long and hard to assess a situation and analyze it for threats, all in a manner of moments. Today, that skill would come in handy.

    A woman was shouting. Shouting and crying. Was she hurt? No. Upright. Clothes not torn. No sign of blood. Good. She was pointing. Where? At her? No. Down the street. She was pointing at something down the street, and shouting at it.

    “MY PURSE! He’s got my PURSE! SOMEONE, PLEASE!”

    “Sawada? Sawada, honey, I’m gonna have to call you back.”

    Snapping her phone shut with what was likely screen-cracking haste, Midnight was already on the move, pure instinct launching her off the side of the building and across the road. Traffic had come to a stop before a red light, but that didn’t matter to her. Bracing a hand on the hood of a smaller compact, she sailed over it with ease, no doubt startling the driver before she came to a landing on the asphalt. Dancing and leaping over the cars, and side-stepping past the ones she couldn’t clear, Midnight was across the road in second, coming to a stop with a final, graceful leap onto the sidewalk, where a small crowd had gathered about the hysterical woman. And almost as soon as they saw her, they were roaring with cheer.

    But Midnight didn’t have time to stop and greet them, though she did blow a kiss as she bolted away. Long hair fluttering out behind her like a cape, she followed the woman’s direction down the sidewalk, moving with shocking speed for a lady in high-heeled boots. And as her gaze lasered in on the path before her, she saw exactly who she was after.

    He already had a good lead on her. Even so, she could make him out clear as day, and knew from the bright pink purse trailing behind him as he sprinted away that he was her target. He was a stocky man, roughly her height, and at least twice her weight, if not more, and he wore a bright red jacket and blue jeans. Not the best outfit for purse snatching, which meant she wasn’t exactly dealing with a professional thief.

    “Awwww, what a shame! And here I thought this was going to be a challenge. You should know better than to get a lady excited and then leave her disappointed !” Nemuri giggled out loud, not caring if he could hear her or not. She wasn’t lying though. This was exhilarating . The grin on her face went from wide to downright devilish, as she felt her sadistic side begin to take over and send a shiver down her spine.

Her heart pounded like gunfire.

Her blood ran boiling hot.

She licked her lips.

“You’re a naughty boy...and naughty boys get punished ~!”

And like that, the chase was on. Midnight’s legs pumped like pistons as she broke into a sprint, shooting down the sidewalk in a way only a pro hero could manage. Her eyes never left her quarry, zeroed in on the fleeing crook like a hawk on the heels of a field mouse. He was fast, sure, but she was faster. She needed to be. She ached to be faster. And so she was, her high heels hammering the pavement without a hint of mercy, all in the name of pursuit.

As the man fled, people going about their day either got out of his way, or were pushed out of his way. Even in times where Midnight lost visual contact for a brief moment, the purse-snatcher vanishing into a crowd when he turned a corner, she was always able to find him, hearing the distinct sound of frustrated shouts and bodies hitting the ground.

She, on the other hand, had no such trouble navigating the uphill stream that was downtown Hosu. If her new boy toy was blasting through the sea of citizens like a rhinoceros, Midnight danced around them, like a cat. She took advantage of the pathways he created, parts in the rift of bodies that she sped through before they could close, and she twirled and spun around any in-the-way citizens, effortlessly dodging them and keeping them out of harm’s way. She was like an acrobat, her movements almost unnatural as she twisted and leaped, all the while putting less and less distance between her and the perp. 

“You can’t keep running forever, honey! Mama always gets what she wants, and she wants you bad !” Midnight called out. As she did, her quarry turned his head, looking over his shoulder at the commotion behind him. The dread that filled his eyes made Midnight’s heart flutter, and she licked her lips as a blush overtook her face.

“Yes, yes yes yes, yes! That’s exactly what mama wants! ” She cackled, spurned on by the heat she felt on her face. Right now, she looked scarier than any villain could ever hope to, as if she really was hungry to get her hands on him. Quicker than thought, a hand snapped down to her belt, and the coiled leather of her long whip unfurled like a furious snake, a cruel snap-snap cutting the air like a jet. “Slow down big boy, and you and me can get to know each other just a little better! So long as you don’t break too early and spoil the entire thing~ !” With that, she gripped two lengths of the whip in both hands, and she snapped them together like to ends of a belt, the resulting crack louder than anything a proper swing of the weapon could produce.

It only served to frighten him more, which was exactly what she wanted. Face stretched in terror, the thief let out something like a choked scream, before turning around and breaking into a run that would make the likes of Ingenium blush. He cut along the ground like a hare, far more encouraged to escape now that he knew that he had a pro hero on his heels. And a pro hero like...like whatever the thing behind him really was.

The race continued on as the two contestants rounded a corner, like a pair of hounds scrambling away from the guts of Hell. The perp probably thought he WAS in hell. After all, the ghastly, cackling woman behind him could only be a demon, with her vicious whip and the bloodlust (or really just regular lust) in her eyes. His knuckles tightened around the strap of the purse so hard that they turned white, and his palm began to bleed as his nails dug into his own flesh. At this point, he didn’t even care about getting away with the bag. He just cared about getting away .

Which gave him an idea.

The move was subtle, but Midnight could see it. Even through the haze of desire, she could see the way the man began to turn. A single moment, a mere second of time, and she knew exactly what he was going to do. The world fell into slow motion, time edging along like a slug. Seconds passed like hours. She watched him turn. Shift his weight. He was going to turn around, and throw the bag.

And that would be his last mistake.

Now . Nemuri thought.

And her timing was perfect.

“BITCH!” Her quarry screamed, as he finally turned all the way around. A sloppy haymaker hurled the purse through the air. There was no art to the throw, only instinct and desperation. But there was power behind it, and the shot was aimed right at Midnight's face. For a brief moment, a mere attosecond, he thought he did it. He thought he hit her square on. There was a spark of hope. Hope for it to be just enough of a distraction for him to get away, and meld into the crowd before she had time to recover.

And that spark of hope was snuffed out, as soon as he saw her catch it.

A perfectly-manicured hand snapped out, and caught the leather bag, inches from her face. And from behind it, a pair of sadistic eyes glared at him, and a set of glossy lips were licked.

“Gotcha~ !” Midnight giggled. And before he could move, before he could even draw a breath, she was upon him.

The motion was fluid. More fluid than water rolling down the crevices of an iceberg, only to dribble down back into the sea. It was fast, too. If anyone watching took the chance to blink, it would have been all over by the time their eyes opened again. Such was the precision and the haste with which Midnight delivered the opening and the final blow, never allowing her target a moment of respite.

Her hand flicked back, and her whip snapped with it, barking in the air like a gunshot. In the time it took for the camera lens to shutter, she brought the whip down in a wide arc, everything from the stock above vanishing as the length of the leather moved faster than the eye could track. It lashed out hungrily, and on instinct, the thief brought and arm up to block, preemptively wincing in pain and expecting the devious weapon to slash right through his skin.

When that didn’t happen, he opened his eyes.

His arm didn’t hurt. It just felt... tight . And he’d see why when his gaze flickered from his attacker to his wrist.

The last few feet of the whip had wound itself around his wrist, and was stuck there like a vice, with the stinging cracker dangling harmlessly beneath the coil. An experienced fighter would know that he could shake himself free, but once again, Midnight wasn’t about to give him that chance.

“Now come to mama!” She shouted, with less venom than before. She was having fun , and it showed in the way she grinned as she yanked the handle of the whip back like a lever. Without warning, the thief’s arm shot out, and he was pulled from his place on the pavement with a force that even surprised Midnight. His feet were practically yanked out from beneath him as he was sent hurtling forward, a scream on his lips as he realized this crazy demoness was pulling him closer .

But Midnight wasn’t done there. Raising her free hand, she curled the fingers into a fist and made like she was going to punch, the crowd around her gasping as they anticipated the blow. Strip of a woman that she was, a direct shot to the face while he was coming at her with that kind of momentum would hurt just about anyone. And the thug seemed to know it, wincing once again when he was barely a foot away, Midnight’s fist just a few precious centimeters away from colliding with his face and shattering his nose.

Midnight, thought, had other plans.

Just before Midnight could strike, her hand flattened, and passed right by the per’s face without even touching it. In a confusing display, he would stumble past Midnight, losing his momentum. The whip even came uncoiled, freeing his wrist to fall to the pavement. 

Too late would he detect the heavy, sickly-sweet smell that hung in the air.

Too late would he feel his limbs growing heavier than lead, and feel his thoughts slow down to a sluggish crawl. 

Too late would he realize his vision was blurring, the images of the people all around him distorting and doubling, and finally fading into utter blackness as he stumbled a few more futile feet, slumped, and hit the ground. 

Completely, utterly asleep.

There was a long pause of silence as everyone present held their breaths, save for Midnight. As soon as she heard the telltale sound of snoring behind her, she straightened up and sighed, rolling her shoulder a bit as she made a show of turning around. Coiling her whip as she approached the snoozing heap that was once a purse-thief, she clipped her weapon to her belt and bent down, shaking her hip suggestively as she retrieved the bag, unlooping the strap from a now-limp hand. She stood, slinging it over her shoulder as she produced a black, lace fan, fluttering it in front of her face to banish the last errant vapors of her quirk wafting off her skin.

“Like I said. Naughty boys get punished, darling.” She said out loud, planting a heel on the thief’s back. “...And your punishment is an early bedtime!”

And with that, the people around her erupted into applause.

Chapter Text

When Nemuri returned home that evening, it was with tired feet aching in her boots, and a desperate need for something stiff to drink.

    A heavy sigh escaped the woman’s lips as she opened the door and stepped across the threshold, leaving behind the cold of the evening air as she let the door to the foyer close and latch. The locks for her front door were biometrically linked, and she could hear the familiar, comforting click-clack of the tumblers working as soon as she pressed the palm of her hand against the screen nearest the light switch. With the door locked, and no-one to see her, Nemuri all at once dropped her act, and, promptly, leaned against the door to slide down to the floor.

    “ Fuuuuuck…. ” She moaned, enjoying the feeling of finally getting to sit again after a long, long patrol. Save for when she was at the coffee shop with Shino, she had been on her feet all day, and the weariness was just now catching up with her. Pushing her chest out and reaching her arms back to stretch, she let out a very un-sexy, un-Midnightlike grunt, before her hands tiredly slapped to the floor.

    “Christ…” She whispered to herself after a moment, reaching up to remove her glasses. The adhesive that kept the wide lenses to her face came painlessly away with a sharp tug, and she tossed them vaguely in the direction of the small, rubber mat she used to house her shoes. “How long does it take to process a purse-grabber ? And why do I have to be there for the entire thing? Goddamn waste of my time…” Nemuri said bitterly, reaching up again to rub her eyes. The sultry tone in her voice was gone, replaced with something that sounded much more...annoyed. “I should really just start doing what Shōta does. I bet I could tag ‘em and bag ‘em a lot faster if I just dumped ‘em in front of the precinct steps…”

    The pro hero called Midnight was finally on break.

    And the regular woman known as Nemuri Kayama could finally be herself again.

    For a few good minutes, Nemuri sat there on the floor of the foyer, a sour look on her face and her arms lying limply by her side. She was alone only with the sound of her own breathing to accompany her, letting her brain turn off for just a few precious moments to herself. Eventually, she’d unclip her phone from her belt, and start flipping lazily through it, only really paying half-attention to what was on the screen. More or less the same. Emails from her agency. Spam. Several thousand notifications on her instagram.

    She sighed.

    “Fuck me, I don’t wanna cook tonight.” She lamented, not relishing the idea of having to stumble to the kitchen and make herself something from scratch. Now pizza? Pizza sounded good . Gluten-free, with extra-extra pepperoni. Fuck, she might even get extra cheese, and stuffed crust. Why not? It had been a long fucking day. At the very least, she’d earned a little treat for herself, after all the rigamarole from the boys in blue. Now it was just a case of hoping her favorite place to order from was still open…

    Dinner decided, Nemuri reached down to start unlacing her boots, heels thumping against the hardwood floor. Her lips were pursed as her fingers worked to undo the tight knots and buckles, anticipating the moment when she could finally kick her heeled stompers off. She practically shivered when she did, unceremoniously sliding them off one after the other, and tossing them over with her mask. Normally she’d show her equipment more respect, but fuck it. She was tired.

    The clattering of her boots against the rubber mat was loud, and she knew exactly what was to follow. There was the sound of a quick pitter-patter of little feet somewhere in the house, and Nemuri knew that she’d woken her delightful little kitty up from his evening nap. And sure enough, Sushi rounded the corner upstairs, bounding down and meowing loudly at the woman as she rose up from her spot on the foyer floor.

    “There he is...there’s my pretty kitty…” She whispered gently as she stepped up out of the foyer and onto the carpet. God, it felt good to be home. Kneeling down, she stretched out a hand, and Sushi immediately bounded towards it, mashing his face into Nemuri’s palm and erupting with a loud purr. The cat’s salt-and-pepper fur was soft as silk, and Nemuri couldn’t help but let her smile turn into a grin when Sushi’s wet nose nuzzled against her fingers.

    “You were waiting for a good long while for mama to get you some dinner, weren’t you? I’m sorry my perfect baby, mama just got caught up in something is all…” She mumbled, more to herself than Sushi. In response, the cat simply closed its eyes, purring even louder as she turned her hand to start scritching its fur in earnest. Eventually, he flopped to his side in a demand for belly rubs, and Nemuri let out a laugh.

    “You know, if half the villains out there were as easy to subdue as you, I probably wouldn’t be getting home so late!” She said, eyes glancing towards the clock. Yup. 8:00 PM, and it was darker than coffee. 

The plus side? The pizza place didn’t close until 10:00, which meant there was plenty of time to order up some grub.

“Well, no sense in keeping you waiting much longer, is there?” She asked Sushi, who blinked up at her and mewled in response. Tired as she was, that was always enough to make Nemuri smile. Scooping the cat up in her arms, a barefooted Nemuri made her way to the kitchen, and set Sushi down to start dishing him some wet food.

Nemuri’s home was exactly the sort of thing one would come to expect from someone who’s brand concerned itself with flashy hedonism. A good three stories tall, and nestled in the heart of downtown Mustafu, “manor” probably would have been the better word to describe the abode in which she lived. A pro hero’s salary was decided by their popularity and, more often than not, by the early success of their career. And the early stages of Midnight’s career had been very kind to her indeed.

With plenty of glass windows and angular ports, Nemuri’s place was a marvel of contemporary design, all abstract shapes and clean, rectangular lines. Ridiculously lavish, just the way she liked it. Visitors would be greeted with a pristine lawn of green, bordered by bushes of plump, red roses and stringy lavenders that were tended to by a team of gardeners every sunday. 

The kitchen she worked in to fill the mewling Sushi’s belly was no less impressive. Where most of the house was more modern in design, the kitchen was a bit more rustic, a smaller cooking area with exposed wood and stone, and hanging lights fitted to resemble oil lamps. It looked like the sort of cookery you’d expect to see in a luxurious cabin out in the woods, complete with a bay window set behind the sink, peering out into the greenery of the back yard. Not that Nemuri would be caught dead camping. 

Dreadful thing, camping.

Sushi leapt from the counter over to the island-table in the middle of the kitchen, just as Nemuri finished scooping out the wet mass of processed tuna that he adored so much. His mewls grew louder, and they only stopped when Nemuri finally set the plate down, running her hand through Sushi’s fur as he crouched to eat.

“Good kitty...mama’s sorry it took so long…” She whispered, despite her and Sushi being the only ones there. She watched with a simper, eventually resting her chin on her palm as she spoke to the otherwise distracted feline. “I should really think about getting a cat-sitter. Oh! Or maybe another little kitty for you to play with, while I’m out and about. You’d like that, wouldn’t you” She asked.

No answer. Just the sound of her cat snacking away. 

“Well, maybe someday! But then again, what would people say if the hero Midnight turned out to be a crazy cat lady? Tachiōjō would chew my head off.” She sighed, straightening up from her spot on the table. Reaching down to scratch her belly, Nemuri made for the fridge, pulling the brochure for her pizza place off before heading over to where she kept the landline. It was about time for her to get something to eat as well.

A bit after Nemuri had placed her order, she’d peeled off what was left of the thin microfiber that made up her costume, depositing the scraps in the trash on her way to the bathroom. She chuckled when Sushi weaved in and out from between her legs, and at the way he batted at the dangling rags before they were deposited in the bin. When she finally made it to her shower-room, he did eventually scamper off, leaving Nemuri alone to wash off. 

    With dinner on it’s way, Nemuri didn’t bother to fiddle with any of the fancy bells and whistles that could adjust the water pressure, or even the color of the bathroom lighting. She just wanted a nice, quick, hot shower. And as soon as the steaming water cascaded against her skin, she sighed with relief, feeling all the aches and pains of an entire day on her feet melting away down the drain. Letting the water wash down her face and through the long strands of her mane of hair, she closed her eyes and let her stresses wash away with it, forgetting all about the agency, and P.R. campaigns and anything else that came with work. Right then and there, in her fancy little shower stall, all alone with the steam and the water, it was Nemuri’s time, and Nemuri’s time alone. And she relished all the way until her fingers gripped the controls for the shower valve, and finally cut the delightful stream short.

    It didn’t take long for her to get dried off, especially since she just sort of dabbed at her hair with a towel, leaving it damp for the most part. She would blow-dry it later, if she got to it. Tossing the towel on her heart-shaped bed, she dug through her dresser for something to wear, eventually producing a pair of basketball shorts and an overly-large, overly-long sweater.

    Garish.

    Mismatched.

    Perfect.

    Fully dressed, and with Sushi weaving between her ankles once more, Nemuri made her way down the carpeted steps, reaching up to half-cover a yawn that practically split her face in two. The at-home edition of Midnight would surprise anyone, with how messy her hair looked, and with her makeup washed off. But, again, Midnight was on break until she clocked in the next day. Here at home, the only posing that she did was for early-morning yoga, if she felt like it.

    Her shower must have lasted longer than she’d originally thought, because no sooner did her foot touch the carpet of the first floor than the doorbell ring, a loud chime singing throughout the house.

    “ Shit. ” Nemuri swore under her breath. Hair still wet, strength sapped from the warmth of the water, she stumbled towards the door, and leaned down to fetch the utility belt that rested alongside her discarded boots and mask. She swore again when the doorbell rang a second time, fumbling with tired fingers until she finally managed to get her wallet out of its pouch. Cash in hand, she pulled the door open, paid the delivery guy, and let it shut behind her, her warm, cardboard bounty in hand as she turned and carried it to the living room to flop down on the couch.

    “Woulda wrung his neck if he hit the button one more time…” She grumbled as Sushi leapt up to sit next to her. Pushing aside a small stack of magazines and letting them clatter to the floor, Nemuri set her pizza box down on the coffee table. She sat back on the couch and propped up her feet, rubbing her eyes with her thumb and index finger. The day had been long, and now that she could finally settle down, it felt like the weight of the world was leaving her shoulders. Just like in the foyer, she couldn’t help but take a moment to herself.

Laying her head back, she drank in the silence. All she heard were Sushi’s soft purrs. All she felt was the soft fabric of her evening-wear against her skin. All she smelled was the delicious promise of the pizza, waiting for her inside that sinner’s paradise of cardboard.

    It was nice, for a time.

    That is, until Nemuri finally leaned forward, flipping the box open to let the steam rise and curl in alien shapes over the coffee table. She was just about to grab herself a piece of her gooey, cheesy treat, before her phone rang. Not her cellphone, this time. Her landline. And when the landline rang, it rang all throughout the house. Loudly .

    “ FUCKING GOD DAMMIT !” Nemuri yowled, nearly dropping her pizza slice and scaring Sushi half to death. The frightened feline suddenly puffed up and stiffened as Nemuri’s hand went up to cover her eyes. God, she could start fucking crying . Was she allowed no peace?

    She could ignore it, she supposed. Just let it go to voicemail, so she could enjoy her dinner. But...no. No, that wouldn’t be right. Lots of other heroes had her number, and this could be important. And emergency, even. Still, even if it was an emergency, Nemuri certainly took her time reaching for the remote, taking a bite of her slice and chewing as she flipped the television on. She navigated her settings in the on-screen menu until she reached the digital landline. 

One push of a button, and she knew who was calling. 

And even if she was still a little annoyed about the interruption, seeing Shōta’s name pop up on the screen was a... nice surprise, she supposed? Better than a late-night call from some other pro she wasn’t very familiar with, or god forbid her agency. After the day she’d had, if she had to attend another late-night meeting, she was going to go full villain on someone.

Nevertheless, Nemuri accepted the call, and lounged back on the couch, pizza in hand. She took a few more sloppy chomps while she waited for the connection to establish, watching the symbol of Aizawa’s caller ID pulse on the screen until it finally froze, and gave way to a live video. The gaunt, pale face of the pro hero Eraserhead stared back at Nemuri. Heavy bags lined the undersides of tired eyes as he adjusted the camera to make sure he could see her properly. It made her chuckle. He never was very good with touchscreens, was he?

“Kayama? Kayama, can you hear me at all?” Shōta asked, blinking tiredly at her through her television screen. His voice was a bit garbled at first, but as he adjusted things on his side a bit more, his voice became clearer. “There. How’s that, can you hear me now?” He asked.

“Clear as glass, darling.” Nemuri gestured with her half-eaten pizza slice. She smiled lecherously at him, reaching beside her to scritch at Sushi’s head. “You better have a good reason, calling me at this time of night, Shōta honey. You’ll get a lady’s hopes up, that way…” She continued, and let her head roll back in a witchy cackle as Aizawa rolled his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off when a new face shoved itself into the screen.

“Wh-HEY! Hizashi, I was-”
    “NEM? NEM, YA THERE DARLIN’? IS THIS THING ON? TESTING TESTING!”

Nemuri instantly recognized the loud, loud voice of Hizashi on the other end, better known as Present Mic, and snickered even harder when she saw that familiar strike of yellow hair on her television screen. Not everybody appreciated the other pro’s booming voice, however, as Sushi was quick to leap off the couch and scamper away, tail all poofed-out like a bottle.

“And there’s Hizashi, too! Two handsome men calling me up at this late in the evening? Why, it must be my birthday, or Christmas come early! Though I don’t know why I’d be getting gifts on Christmas. I’ve been a very naughty girl~. ” She intoned, crossing and uncrossing her legs. At this, Hizashi could only throw his head back in his own cackle, making poor Aizawa plug his ears as he grumbled something inaudibly.

“You SLAY me, Kayama! I’ll betcha you’d give Miss Joke a run for her money if you were after her title!”
    “We’ve all got our roles to play, hun, and Joke can keep hers. I’m far more content with making the good people of Japan comfortable with my own methods, thank you very much.” She said with a wink, sending Hizashi into another bursting round of laughter. Annoyed, Aizawa reached for the camera, turning it his way while his compatriot guffawed in the background.

“In any case, apologies for calling you so late at night, Nemuri.” He muttered. “I know you probably just got off the clock, so again, sorry.”

“Oh Shōta honey you know I’m always getting o-”

“ Nemuri. ”

“But really, Shōta. It’s no trouble at all. You know you can call whenever. It’s always nice to hear from my boys, especially the ones on the night patrol. Helps me keep tabs on you little troublemakers.” Nemuri said, munching on a slice of pizza. She meant it, too. It really was nice to get calls from the likes of her old classmates. She could feel her frustrations slipping away as she spoke.

“Seriously though, what’s up?” She asked with her mouth full, dripping pizza sauce down onto her sweater. “You guys need backup or something?”

“We heard about that purse-nabber ya snagged downtown, earlier today! That was some sweet work, doll!” Hizashi chimed in, once again buting heads with Shōta to get his on-screen.

“Really? Already?” Nemuri asked, actually a bit stunned. Though then again, she probably shouldn’t be. News traveled fast among pros, it seemed.

“You bet! Got the deets from a buddy of mine working the beat down in the precinct. He was hella excited to see you down there!”

“Well then! Sounds like I should have stuck around a bit longer, if I had such an adoring fan in the boys-in-blue.” She replied, licking her fingers free of grease. “It was nothing, really. But thanks all the same, Yamada. It means a lot.”

For a moment, Midnight’s mind drifted to thoughts of Shōta and Hizashi, back when they were at the knife’s edge of their days in high school, on their way to becoming full-fledged heroes. It seemed like so long ago that they were just a trio of kids...well...a quartet of kids, at one point...who just wanted to do right by people. Kids who wanted to do some actual good in the world, and be like the heroes they saw on television. And look at them now! Nemuri was talking with a pair of pros in costumes, the night after her own shift of tiring hero work. Who would have thought they would come so far?
    Well, Nemuri did. She’d always known that her personal flavor of flare would be a handy tool, in professional terms.

“Kayama, are you listening?”
    “Hm?”

Nemuri blinked, and she realized from Aizawa’s stern tone of voice that he’d been talking, and she’d been drifting so far off into la-la land that she’d completely missed what he’d said.

“Ah, sorry. My brain’s all wander-y today. Could you say that again, Shōta?” She asked, provoking a tired sigh from her co-worker.

“I said ,” He began, an annoyed tinge to his voice. “Hizashi wanted me to ask you if you were planning on attending Hero’s Feast in a few months, here.”

“Hero’s Feast? Already?” Nemuri blinked, pausing midway through as she reached for another slice of pizza. “I thought that wasn’t until later this year. Did the date get moved up, or something?”

“Yep.”

“Really. Do we know why?”

“All the new debuts, probably.” Aizawa shrugged, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. “With the influx of new heroes within the last year or so, it’s not hard to imagine that the Pro Heroes Association wanted to push the date of the whole thing up to before June.”

“It’s all a pain in the ass, if you ask me. But Emi said she wanted to go, so I guess I don’t really have a choice, at this point.” He continued with a grumble, while Present Mic snickered next to him. Nemuri couldn’t stifle a giggle, either.

“Miss Joke’s callin’ the shots, huh? Guess we know who’s wearing the pants at your guy’s place, huh?” Midnight asked, turning Mic’s snicker into a loud guffaw, which forced Aizawa to scowl and clap his hands over his ears.

“All it is is a publicity stunt, but she really wants to go so she can rub some shoulders. And when I tell her ‘no’, she gets whiny.” Shōta said over Mic’s laughter.
    “ Eeerrrrrn ! Wrong!” Nemuri wagged a finger at him, imitating the sound of a buzzer. “You don’t like telling her no because you’re a big softy deep down who loves his wife. That, and you can’t resist a pair of Bambi eyes. How do you think she got you to marry her anyway?”

“Three solid years of constantly asking.”

“Alright, fair.”

As Hizashi exploded into another round of laughter, Nemuri felt her thoughts drifting again. This time, to the words “Hero’s Feast”. She knew them well. Every hero did, after all.

Hero’s Feast was exactly what it sounded like. An annual gala/dinner, where pros from around the nation were invited to attend. Rank or standing didn’t matter. If you were a professional hero, then you could expect a ticket in the mail, regardless of where you were in the official ranking system. It was a big to-do, Nemuri knew, but a relatively quiet one. One night out of the year where people like her, the Pussycats, and everyone else who fought for justice could come together for a night of drinking and dancing. That’s what set it apart from other pro events, she supposed. There were plenty of balls and banquets that only admitted pros in the double-digits, rank wise. 

Hero’s Feast wasn’t a fundraiser, or a charity event like all those other dances, though. It was a chance to get some real networking done. Mingling with the cream of the heroic crop, and getting your name into the head of someone important was part of it all. And pros all across Japan would be chomping at the bit to introduce themselves to someone influential. That is, the ones who decided to attend, anyway.

“Are they still planning on doing the exemption clause? I mean, they have to, right?” Nemuri asked the expanded face of Aizawa on the television.

“No, they are. I’ve already heard that at least a hundred pros have turned down invitations so far.” He replied.

“Makes sense.” Nemuri rested her chin on her palm, as she leaned into the arm of the couch. The exemption clause was just a precaution for Hero’s Feast. It wouldn’t be good for the streets to be completely pro-free, even for just a single night. Anyone organizing Hero’s Feast had to ensure there were a garrison of pros still on patrol, which was what the clause itself was for. But if what Aizawa said was true, there’d be no need for it this year. The clause would only come into effect if attendance to the feast left the populace at large wildly unattended, and it sounded like there were plenty of heroes willing to forgo their invitation for that exact reason.

“You probably would’ve been one of ‘em, huh Shōta?” She said with a grin. In response, Shōta sighed.

“Like I said. Emi insisted. She probably would’ve confirmed my RSVP for me if I said ‘no’ anyhow…”

“Wow. I offer to do it for so many years, and it’s EMI who gets to whip you. It’s like you’re trying to make me all jealous on purpose! Remember what I said about getting a lady’s hopes up?” She asked, making a whipping motion with her hand. Shōta sighed again.

“ Anyway . You’re going, then?” He asked.

“You bet!” Nemuri giggled. “You know me, hun. I’ll take all the attention I can get, and a room with that many eyes in it promises plenty of attention. And all the more reason if I get to see you there! Been a while since I’ve seen you in a suit.”

“Oh!” She remembered. “Is Yamada gonna go, too?”

“Uh, DUH! What kinda question is that? Who do you think is gonna be the deejay?!” Mic responded with a snap of his fingers.
    “Really, Mic?”
    “Yeah! I mean...not really. They’re gonna be playing my songs, though.” He admitted. “Like you said, we gotta rub some shoulders ourselves. Hard to pull that off while I’m spinnin’ a record.”

“Better work to be done on patrols than in a suit…” Aizawa grumbled. Her heart went out to him. He had always been the pragmatist, and having to deal with a shindig like Hero’s Feast rather than work was probably hell on him. She was about to open her mouth and crack a joke, before Hizashi beat her to the punch.

“By the way, hun! Are ya gonna go alone again this year?”

There was a pause.

There was a very long pause.

“...Uh...Nemuri? Hun? Did the connection cut out? Nemuri?”

“Uh…” Came her reply, realizing she hadn't said anything for a hot minute. “I...sorry, Mic. What was the question?”

“I said are ya gonna go alone again this year?”

It was a simple question. One she should have been able to answer right away. But curiously, Midnight felt...almost like she couldn’t. Like there was something blocking her throat every time she tried to speak up, cutting off her words. Not like choking up, but more like anything she WANTED to say sort of just...disappeared, as soon as it reached her lips. She hesitated a few times, opening her mouth and closing it once or twice.

She knew how to answer the question.

Why didn’t she? Why couldn’t she?

There was a moment when Hizashi’s smile faded on the screen behind his amplifier, and Aizawa flicked his eyes over towards the far more flamboyant hero. Reaching back, he scratched at his skull, and looked away from the camera.

“Uh...sorry, that was a bit too-”
    “Oh! Oh, no no no, it’s fine! It’s absolutely fine!” Nemuri snapped out of her trance. She waved him off, trying to sound as reassuring as she could. “I’m not really planning on it. Why? Does the great Present Mic not have a date to the dance?” The grin returning to Mic’s face, he struck a pose.

“Not a chance! I’ve been seeing this cute lil’ thing from downtown, and she’s gonna be my plus one! Sorry to disappoint if you wanted a piece of the action, though!” He admitted, throwing his head back in another ear-splitting cackle. Somewhere in the house, Sushi mewled in protest.

Nemuri was laughing too. But it wasn’t nearly as strong as Hizashi’s. No, Something felt...different. Like something had settled in the pit of her stomach. Something cold, that made her feel a bit...not sick, but less enthused. Any thoughts about the potential fun of Hero’s Feast drained away like water, leaving a sort of empty, hollow feeling. The same kind of feeling one got when they heard bad news.

And whatever it was, it was making her strain to smile.

“Ah, hey boys? I have to...go get the dishes done, really quick? I hate to cut this short-”

“Oh hell yeah, no problem! Yer probs hella tired after today, so we won’t keep ya!”

“Congratulations on doing your job again, Nemuri.” Aizawa said flatly, and Nemuri stuck a tongue out at him. She waved them off as they gave their goodbyes, smiling weakly but genuinely at the screen.

And as soon as it flipped off and faded to black, her smile faded along with it.

Sitting there on the couch, legs tucked under her, Nemuri blinked at the wide screen of her television, listening to it hum as it shut down. It was quiet, for a time. She simply sat, lost in her thoughts. Or, more accurately, lost in Mic’s words, which bounced around in her mind.

Are you gonna go alone?

Are you gonna go alone again this year?

Words didn’t usually bother Nemuri. She didn’t let them. She didn’t have time to be bothered by them, and she didn't have such a meager confidence that she’d let herself get her feathers ruffled over something so superficial as words. It was why she let the grim staring of the family at the restaurant wash right over her. It was why she didn’t get upset when purse-thieves called her a bitch.

But for some reason, Yamada’s words just...stuck around. Floating in the forefront of her mind.

Are you gonna be alone?

Those words were with her when she got up off the couch, leaving behind a pizza box with more than half a pie inside. Those words were with her when she went back to the kitchen, to rinse off Sushi’s dish. They rattled around in her head as she stared at her reflection in the bay window, the dark of the night outside bringing perfect clarity to her every feature.

Are you gonna be alone?

Are you alone?

The words mutated as she thought of them. Some of them faded away, until only one was left.

Alone.

Nemuri took a moment to pause. Her hands braced against the rim of the sink, and she just stared into her own eyes, stared at her own face. It was the face that hundreds of people saw every day. It was the face the villains and heroes alike knew. She was Midnight, after all. The pro hero Midnight. Everyone’s favorite, sexy hero, with an army of loyal fans and friends.

And yet…

...Yet, there was still something missing. She could see it in her own expression, in her own eyes. Her life was amazing. She had everything she could have ever wanted and more.

So why did a part of her feel this way? Why did it feel so empty?

She heard Yamada’s words again. Only this time, they were her own.

“Alone, huh?”

Chapter Text

    There’s a misconception about how long it takes for a pro hero to don their costumes. In cartoons and comics, it seems like heroes are always ready at a moment’s notice, needing only to twirl around or duck into a telephone booth for a few moments, only to emerge fully-dressed and ready for action.

    Nemuri had to get up at 5:00 AM to just begin the process of getting her costume on.

    The blaring of her alarm clock drew a frustrated groan out of Nemuri’s scratchy throat, and part of her wanted to roll over and ignore it. She did, for a time, the frame of her heart-shaped bed shuddering a bit as she violently twisted around and slapped a pillow over her head to drown out the noise. Eventually, though, her responsible side started to scold itself. And that demanding voice in the back of her head was enough to make her snarl again, before tossing the pillow at the alarm clock and knocking it off her nightstand.

    As usual, Nemuri’s day started with a shower. A quick one, by her standards. Only about 30 minutes long. More than half of that shower time was dedicated to washing her impossibly long mane of hair, and by that time, she’d perked up enough to sing to Sushi as the loyal kitty waited for her on the counter, using her beloved hairbrush as a microphone. At around 5:36, her hair was twisted up in a towel, and it was time to put her costume on. And her makeup. And her equipment.

    Again. It took quite a bit of time.

    “You know, I’d be able to get this done and be on patrol faster if the association had just let me keep the first costume.” Nemuri lamented to her cat as she waltzed into the bedroom to grab a can of spray-on fabric from one of her many lavish dressers. “A few belts, my coat, and I was good to go.”

    A mewl from Sushi served as a rebuttal.

    “Yes yes, I know, public indecency charges and all that, whatever.” She mumbled. “After how long you’ve been living with me, I didn’t expect you to be such a prude too, hun. You sure you aren’t secretly working for the PHA?”

    Another meow.

    “Ah! Touché , then, Sushi.”

    The cat scampered away as Nemuri started to apply the fabric, not at all enjoying the hiss of the spray-can. It always made her laugh a little when he did. That said, she kept her giggles to a minimum, as applying the spray solution that made up the tear-able fabric of her hero costume was delicate work. She had to keep her hand steady to apply it evenly, and not waste any of the incredibly expensive material. A slender finger pressed down the valve, and she shivered as she felt the solution collide with her skin, starting with her legs. Why did it always go on so damn cold ?

    Getting the spray on took another 30 minutes, with ten for it to dry. She took that time to examine herself in the mirror, and make sure she didn’t miss any spots. When she missed a patch of bare skin, she’d make sure to give the area a once-over with the can. It had become a morning ritual, at this point, helping her brain wake up.

    When she was sure she was completely covered, right up to the metacarpals of her hands, it all came down to getting the rest of her equipment on. And that, she could do in a heartbeat. She slipped into the belts and the leather as easily as a pilot slipped into his cockpit, and before she knew it, the pro hero Midnight was all suited up. Save for her boots and her eyemask. Those were still downstairs.

    “Still gotta get my makeup on, anyhow.” She said, adjusting the leather straps so they hugged her frame tightly. Making to exit the bedroom, Nemuri caught a glance of herself in the mirror, and saw that her hair was still done up in a towel. She quickly relieved herself of it and deposited it in the hamper, blowing her reflection a kiss before she made her way out and into the hall.

    “Sushi. Time for breakfast, honey.” Nemuri tiredly called out, running her comb through her hair as she walked. On cue, Sushi scampered from the shadows to join her, following along and mewling at his mama. She greeted him in turn.

    “Got a long day ahead of me, kitten. I’ll bet Tachiōjō’s gonna throw a fit when I get to the office. I really should have given him a call after Sawada told me about the shampoo thing…” Midnight grumbled. She hadn’t looked at her phone yet, but she just knew that there were going to be about a hundred texts from her P.R. manager about the hair product deal. Though, it wasn’t like she could have gotten to it right away. She had to process a crook last night, after all. And she’d been exhausted afterwards. She shrugged. “You win some, you lose some. It’s not the first time I’ve had a man screaming my name, after all.” She giggled, reaching down to pick Sushi up. She was already slipping into her hero persona. Costumes had a way of doing that to you.

    She made quick work of taking her cat downstairs and getting him fed, and even quicker work when she looked at her watch and saw that it was already 6:20. She hurried through the necessary morning chores, making sure Sushi had water and plenty of dry food in his perch-bowls. She would concern herself with tidying up later tonight, if she got to it. The living room was still sort of a cluttered mess from last night, and it’d stay that way until she got to it.

    “This wouldn’t happen , Kayama, if you just hired a cleaner like you said you would.” She scolded herself, making for the door. She nabbed her jingling keys and her wallet along the way, stuffing them both into her utility belt before she strapped that to the width of her hips. She paused when she felt her fingers brush over an empty clip, and then cursed under her breath. Fuck . She’d left her whip upstairs.

    After she’d retrieved her weapon of choice, Nemuri snagged her makeup kit from the bathroom drawer, deciding that it would be best to just do her makeup when she got to the agency. That in mind, she stuffed her mask in her purse, planning on putting that on after the fact. Stepping into her boots and quickly doing up the laces, a still somewhat-tired Nemuri wobbled a bit in her high heels before she caught herself on the door frame. Another bout of whispered cursing under her breath, Nemuri palmed the biometric scanner, and undid the locks.

    “Sushi, mama’s going out again. Be good.”

                                                                                                                   0-0-0

    The drive to her agency never took very long, even if there was a good deal of traffic. This early in the morning, most people weren’t on the roads. And when they were, Midnight knew the city well enough to find shorter routes this way and that, where the cars were less congested. Sometimes it meant cutting through school zones, but whatever worked. That just meant she’d get to wave at the early-risers as they made their way to their classes, and see the excited smiles on their faces when they recognized a pro hero in the car passing by.

    “Poor things…” She said under her breath as she waved at a pair of utterly ecstatic young ladies. Sure, she was out and about early in the morning too. But kids needed their sleep, didn’t they? She was sure she’d read that somewhere. It sounded like something Shino would know better than she would, thinking back to their conversation yesterday.

    No matter. It’d be something they’d have to get used to eventually, she reasoned. Today, they were getting up early for middle school. Soon, they’d be getting up early for high school, and college after that. And eventually, like her, they’d be getting up early for work. That was just how things went, she supposed.

    Eventually, Midnight was able to pull into the parking lot, overshadowed by the ornate steel tower that served as her agency. She had her own parking space (which of course she did) under a covered lot, where she didn’t need to worry about her very expensive car getting rained on, or having the sun fade out the reflective, nightshade-purple paint job. 

    “Alright, and now…” Midnight mumbled to herself as she checked her watch. She still had a good amount of time before she was supposed to clock in, so she decided to make the most of it. Adjusting the rear view mirror with one hand and grabbing for her makeup kit with the other, she went about putting on the finishing touches. Applying wingtips that could slit a man’s throat with little to no lighting was an art , and one that she had mastered over the years.

    When the car door finally opened, the woman that finally emerged was the seductress that everyone in Japan knew well. If she was tired, she didn’t show it. If she was anxious, it didn’t register. 

    Once again, the woman known as Nemuri Kayama was on break.

    And it was time for the pro Hero known as Midnight to step into the spotlight.

    As always, a pair of employees were waiting for her as she opened up her car door, a pair of handsome men with their hair combed back. As Midnight rose up out of her seat, one man offered his gloved hand, which she graciously took with a sly smile. The other closed the car door behind her, handing Midnight her purse. Both men offered her their arms, and she looped her own around each one, letting the two of them lead her to the building.

    “You boys always treat me so good…” Midnight giggled, which drew soft chuckles from her two attendants. Many of her employees were men like this, sharply dressed and waiting on her beck and call.

    She’d have it no other way.

    When they finally led her to the stone steps that would take her into the building’s lobby, the attendants released Midnight, and each of them politely bowed. She blew them both a kiss.

    “Perfect service, as always, Maramoto, Haji. Can you two have the mechanic team run the Nightrider through the wash, and give it a good polishing? It needs it.” She asked, not waiting for a response as she went digging through her purse to toss them her keys. The gentleman on the right caught it in a gloved hand, and they both nodded, still smiling warmly at her.

    “We’ll get it done right away, Miss Midnight.”

    “Good boys. I’ll talk to HR about getting you two a raise~.” With that, she turned, heels clicking and hips swaying as she ascended the steps, and disappeared into the sliding glass door of Midnight Agencies.

    When Midnight entered the lobby, she was greeted with an explosion of overly-lavish antiquity. Her heels were quiet against the velvet, carpeted floor, and against the red rug that had been rolled out from the lip of the doorway. She was flanked by marble columns as she made her way over to the reception desk, a small army of men in suits standing in two lines down the sides of the carpet. As she passed, each one bowed, eyes closed and right hand over his breast pocket. It was the same way she was greeted every morning, as per her request. And every morning, even after four years in the business, it always sent a shiver down her spine.

    She LOVED the attention.

    “Ah, Mistress Midnight! Good morning!”
    “Lovely morning, isn’t it, Miss Midnight?”
    “You look absolutely stunning today, ma’am.”

    “Good morning, Mistress.”

    Each butler welcomed her back to the agency in his own way, for the most part, she ignored them, not wanting to play favorites too much. But every now and again, Midnight couldn’t resist tossing a wink or a blown kiss at a random attendant, just to feel the jealousy waft off the others. 

    “Miss Midnight, you’re here! Oh, am I glad to see you.” A new voice called out. She recognized the higher pitch of her receptionist, Sawada, and looked up to see him waving at her from the circle-desk at the center of the massive lobby-room.

    Much younger and a bit less-composed than the rest of her staff, Sawada was a young man in his early 20’s, just barely out of high school. While quirkless, he sported some cosmetic mutations that left him with something a bit more...avian. A hooked beak smiled at her as best it could, and tawny feathers fluttered slightly as he waved her down. From the neck-up, the scrawny secretary was all burrower owl, complete with a set of big, yellow eyes that glimmered as she approached. 

    “There’s so many more calls that came in after you made your arrest yesterday, and I didn’t wanna call you because I knew you were off-duty after that”. Sawada said quickly, just as Midnight came to a stop, resting her elbows on the desk counter and her chin on her wrists. “Gorgonia Agency contacted your business email about a collab, a-and I think there was something here about some interns from Shiketsu? Hang on, let me get my notes so-”

    “Tut-tut!” Midnight clicked her tongue at him, and waved a finger. He blinked. “Sawada, honey! I’m disappointed in you! Is that how you go and greet me in the morning? Now surely, I taught you better than that…” She said, a light tease in her voice. Sawada froze up on his chair like a deer in the headlights, his eyes somehow going even wider.

    “I...I-I’m so sorry, Miss Midnight. Y-you’re right, I should’ve…” He choked on his words, and Midnight couldn’t help but drink in the delicious fear. A deep, predatory giggled bubbled up from the depths of her throat, and slowly, her hands came out to gently rest on the sides of Sawada’s feathery head.

    “Now now, no need to be so scared , darling…” She said, leaning in close, her nose inches from Sawada’s beak as his face started to heat up. A leg kicked up behind her.

    “Let’s try this again...say, ‘good morning Mistress Midnight’...” She whispered, licking her lips and eyeing him like he was a steak. “Come on now, you can do it, my big, strong Sawada…”

    “G-g-good….goooood…!” More choking from Sawada.

    “ Oh , you can do so much better than that, I think…” Midnight added some sultry, breathy moans to her words. The pads of her thumbs brushed his plumage. “Come on now,
“ Don’t make me kiss it out of you~.”

“G-GOOD MORNING MISTRESS MIDNIGHT!” Sawada finally hooted, his eyes squeezing shut tightly. Nemuri released a breath of anticipation she didn’t realize she’d been holding, and stepped back with an evil grin.

“Good boy!” She straightened up, fighting back another giggle as Sawada groaned, hiding his head behind a yellow notepad. Somewhere behind her, Midnight could hear her other employees chuckling at the hazing of the new guy. She dismissed them with a flick of her wrist. “Here at the agency, I like a ‘good morning’ out of all my most handsome servants. You don’t wanna disappoint me, do you, honey?”

    “N-no ma’am! Certainly not!” The receptionist did his best to compose himself, tugging at his red tie and clearing his throat. Though Midnight could still tell he was flustered. After all, just LOOK at the way his feathers were puffed up! She just knew that the poor thing was absolutely beet red under all that tuft.

    “In...in any case, I really do have some important stuff to share.” Sawada went on, smoothing out his feathers as he reached out to clack away at his keyboard. “A few more messages came in after you clocked out yesterday, like I was saying. I forwarded all the fanmail to your public outreach account, so you can answer those whenever you like. There’s a few here from the Heroes Association that looked kind of important, but Mr. Tachiōjō said not to forward them to you until he got a chance to look at them for himself.”

    “ Ugh. Because of course he did.” Midnight grumbled, puffing her cheeks out in a pout. “Doesn’t he know I can read my own emails? I might need glasses, but my vision isn't that bad.”

    “He told me it was just a precaution, Miss Midnight…”

    “Oh, Sawada honey I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make it sound like I was blaming you.” Midnight reassured, earning a sigh of relief from her receptionist. “He just gets overly-protective, sometimes.”

    “Yeah, Mr. Tachiōjō is...a little intense.” Sawada said warily, swiveling his head to make sure nobody was looking, before leaning in close, eyes wide. “...Is...is it true that he fired a bunch of his secretaries? All because they didn’t put enough milk in his coffee?” Midnight laughed in response.

    “Goodness, no!” She replied. It was probably a tall tale that some of her veteran staff members told to scare the new guy. “No, if he’s fired anyone over coffee of all things, then I haven’t heard about it. Speaking of, is there a fresh pot ready in my office? Mama needs a pick-me-up.” Sawada was about to respond when a new voice cut him off.

    “There’ll be time for coffee later.”

    The voice was gruff and loud, almost like it was barking right up against Midnight’s ear. It was enough to make Sawada jump in his seat again, but all it got out of her was a tinge of annoyance. She knew this voice well, and when it was spoken in this particular tone, she knew a scolding was on its way.

    “ Good christ, here we go… ” She whispered under her breath as footsteps approached, taking a moment to close her eyes and roll them. With a deep breath, she painted a smile on her face and turned, hand on her hip to meet the newcomer.

    “Tachiōjō, darling! I was just on my way up to see you. I was just checking in with Sawada here before I headed up.”

    “And before clocking in, as usual.” her PR manager replied, coming to a stop near the desk. 

    Sakamoto Tachiōjō was the polar opposite of Sawada in every way imaginable. Clad in a chestnut-brown suit and a purple tie to match, the head of the public relation’s department of Midnight Agencies looked every bit the stoic professional, right down to his unflinching gaze. A man of 50 or so years, a salt-and-pepper moustache as thick as a push broom sat under a hawkish nose, with the hair on his head combed off to the side. He was a burly man, shaped a bit like a barrel and disarmingly handsome, the wrinkles on his pale face forming valleys and rifts that told a story of a lifetime in management. A black oxford tapped the carpeted floor as he brought a lit cigar up to his lip, taking a sucking drag on it before blowing the white smoke from his nostrils.

    “Need I remind you, Midnight, that you should be clocking in before flirting with your staff?” He asked, voice gravely and aged like brandy. “You’re getting comped for every minute you’re in that costume, but ONLY if you’ve logged in for the day. We’ve got check-ins for a reason, you know.”

    “I know, I know. Apologies, Tachiōjō darling.” She replied, eye twitching.

    “It’s fine. I already clocked you in when I saw you pull into the lot, so it’s fine. But I would appreciate it if you would make an effort of not fraternizing beforehand. TIme’s money, after all.” Tachiōjō replied, shooting a look at Sawada while taking another puff from his cigar. Sawada didn’t reply, as he’d become very focused with something on his computer screen. That something being not looking his boss in the eye.

    I was just saying good morning. Christ… Midnight thought to herself, though her fake smile persisted. 

    “Thank you, darling. I appreciate that.” Came her reply, needled with a bit more contempt than she’d wanted. Again, it was early. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

    “Happy to do it,” He said. “Someone had to. Did Sonada tell you about the proposal from Tokyo Soaps?” 

    “Sawada. And yes, he did.” Midnight brushed some hair behind her ear, a bit put-off by her manager. Guys were always putty in her hands, but Tachiōjō always seemed like a goddamn statue. It was unnerving. “They’re the ones who want me to do the campaign for their new shampoo, right? I had some thoughts for them, in that regard. And a few questions.”

    “Not a problem. You can ask them next week before we shoot the commercial.” 

    “Wait, you already told them yes ?” 

    “Yup. Which reminds me, they sent a complimentary sample box of their stuff. It’s on your desk.”

    Midnight was dumbstruck. But not because her manager had landed her such a deal. As fast as a camera shutter, dumbfoundedness turned into frustration as her jaw tightened.

    “I didn’t even get a chance to look at the contract! I didn’t even get to look at the email , yet!” Midnight snapped, feeling a tingle at the back of her skull. “Tachiōjō, we didn’t even get a chance to sit down and DISCUSS it. And you already told them I was on board?!” In response, Tachiōjō held up his hands, cigar smoke curling up in the air. 

    “ And put that out! You know I don’t like how it makes the lobby smell!”

    “Nemuri, listen,” the older man huffed, reaching for a glass of water on Sawada’s desk and snuffing out his cigar. “We-”

    “It’s Midnight. ” She corrected him sternly, arms crossed. “You said I’m on the clock, remember?”

    “Midnight.” Tachiōjō corrected. “Listen. We’ve never had a partnership like this before. It’s all been self-production and merchandising, and I can’t even remember the last time we got a call from a company as big as Tokyo Soaps. Of course I told them you were going to be on board with it.”

    “Moreover, I tried to call you about it. If you wanted a say in it earlier on, then you should start answering your phone more often. Sokata here can only do so much.” He continued, gesturing to a nervous Sawada, who busied himself with typing nonsense on the computer. Trained eyes noticed the tightening of Midnight’s fingers on her arms as she crossed them, and he sighed. “Look. You probably learned this in that hero course of yours, right? How much of a hero’s popularity comes from merchandising and brand deals?” There was a long pause as he waited for the answer, eventually gesturing for Midnight to say something. It made her groan.

    “...Fifty.” She finally relented. “It’s around fifty percent.” She huffed, turning her head a bit. The tingling in the back of her head was still there, jabbing at her like tiny needles.

    “Exactly. And don’t get me wrong, you’ve got a solid lockdown on the first fifty percent of it all. Mysterious, sexy, and always ready for what’s next. People know your name, and they know your game, Midnight. You’ve done good work in that regard.” Tachiōjō said in earnest. “But patrols and field work are only going to get you so far. That’s why we need branding . That’s why we need big fish like Tokyo Soaps. You’ve got your image, and we need to SELL it.”

    “We want girls in high school to think they need the shampoo that the one and only Midnight uses. We want them to think they need YOUR heels, YOUR perfumes. We need your name on products, so that people can think they’re buying a little piece of you.” Tachiōjō probably saw the way Midnight recoiled at that, explaining himself further. “Off Putting as that sounds, that’s just how the business goes. That’s why I couldn’t wait to get your word on it all, kid. Trust me when I say that I know what’s best for the agency. And this? This deal with Tokyo Soaps? It's the best damn thing that’s happened to us for a WHILE.” He concluded, reaching for his breast pocket for another cigar without realizing it. One look from Midnight was all it took for him to fold his arms too. “...Do you see what I’m trying to say?”

    Midnight was angry. She was very angry, about all of this. She was still angry that her manager had confirmed the brand deal without consulting her. She was angry that her word apparently meant so little. She was so angry, that she could feel her perfect nails digging into the skin of her palm, threatening to break as her face began to heat up and her jaw started to tighten.

    But mostly, she was angry because Tachiōjō was right. With the persona she’d chosen for herself, it was hard enough to land deals with companies that DIDN’T deal in cosmetics and beauty products. And even when a beauty company like Tokyo Soaps came around, Midnight’s agency had to campaign hard for attention, battling it out with the agencies of other like-minded, similar-in-style heroes. 

    Her manager was right about branding, too. Midnight had neglected it in recent months, having trouble penciling in pitch meetings in-between patrols and interviews. Even so, the very idea that Tachiōjō went ahead and confirmed a brand deal without her say-so boiled her blood, especially alongside the comment of her not answering her phone last night. She was exhausted , she wanted to say. Busy with catching up with friends. Getting the rest she’d needed, earned, and deserved . But she knew all of that would just fly right over her manager’s head, what with his philosophy of business before pleasure. She couldn’t blame him, though. That was his job , after all.

    SO, instead of snapping, instead of arguing, Midnight took a deep breath…

    And smiled.

    “...When is the shoot, darling?” She asked, displaying a master class in hiding her frustration. Tachiōjō sighed with relief.

    “Next week.” He said. “Tuesday, specifically. I’m having the Midnight Boys take over your patrol shift that day, so there’s no need to worry about that. It’s a pretty straightforward affair, so you’ll just need to show up in your costume. That said, they’ll need you there early so they can get you in the makeup chair.” The portly man continued, reaching into his pocket for a cigar. This time, he ignored Midnight’s stern look as he lit up the stogie and took a long, sucking drag. “I’ll have Sonada email you the details. And while you’re at it, go ahead and order Miss Midnight a new phone, since clearly her current one is broken.” He turned to Sawada, fishing a sleek, black credit card from his pocket and sliding it over to the younger man. Sawada, in turn, looked confused.

    “Oh, Tachiōjō darling , you do go on!” Midnight feigned amusement while her skull tingled all the more with a barely contained fury. She glanced at her secretary. “And SAWADA ,” She said aloud, making sure her manager heard the emphasis on the name. “Ignore this silly old man, would you? My phone works just fine.” 

    As if to accentuate her point, something on Midnight’s hip-belt started to buzz loudly. She blinked, then looked down to see it was the pouch with her phone in it. Grinned, and pulled it out. 

    “You see? Perfect working order.” She said, shooting a look at Tachiōjō, who sighed. Thumbing the screen, the digital clock displayed a reminder, telling her it was time for morning patrol. Finally, an out .

    “This has been fun, you two, but like Mr. Sakamoto says, I should be getting to work. A hero’s job is never done, after all.” She pocketed her cellphone, and blew Sawada a kiss before turning with  flourish. She glanced over her shoulder at her manager. “Which reminds me, Tachiōjō darling? Would you be so kind as to approve a pay raise for Haji and Maramoto out in the parking lot? I already told them yes, so do be quick about getting it on the books.” 

    “Wha-!” The old man gasped, nearly dropping the cigar hanging from his lip. “But...kid, the budget this quarter doesn’t approve of any raises until the next month, at least .”

    “Oh, I’m sure you’ll make it work!” Midnight winked at him, before heading down to carpet and towards the door, waspish hips swaying and heels clicking. “After all, you seem so good at handling sudden changes to the schedule.” She added snidely.

    And with that, she was gone, leaving behind a sputtering manager and a snickering receptionist.

Chapter Text

St. Katakana’s Orphanage, 10:30 AM

    Even when it was playtime, and the nuns brought out the big box of blocks and robots and things for everyone to enjoy, Tokoyami always preferred to stare out the window.

    The traffic down below wasn’t as nearly as interesting as he would have liked. There weren’t enough red cars out on the street. Tokoyami’d always liked the red ones. They stood out against the silver and black ones, and they always reminded him of the apples that grew on the big tree in the backyard. He wondered, for a moment, if any of them were ripe yet? If they were, he hoped Sister Damara would bring in a basket of them today. It’d been a while since he’d had one.

    He could see his breath as it fogged up the glass, clouding it in irregular shapes with every puff from his beak.It made him look up from the street to the glass, squirming a bit on his cushioned stool.

    “ Fumikage .” Came a stern voice from behind. Tokoyami flinched.

    “Fumikage, no writing on the windows again. It leaves fingerprints.” One of the nuns said. Tokoyami nodded.

    “Yes, sister Mitaki.” He whispered. The woman sighed.

    “You know we have to clean them whenever you do.”

    “...Sorry, sister Mitaki…”

    “...Are you going to come play with the others?” She asked. Tokoyami didn’t say anything, and she sighed again.

    The playroom at St. Katakana’s was a hive of activity. A cacophony of loud giggles and shrieks filled the air while a handful of nuns did their best to keep the peace, wrangling the more hyper of the toddlers scurrying about. Some of the kids were drawing at tables, and some were making tall towers with LEGO blocks. Others were playing pretend, wrapping blankets around their necks for makeshift capes and dresses and things as they imagined themselves as valiant knights or noble heroes.

    Not Tokoyami. Tokoyami just sat at the window, rubbing his ears.

    With every loud shriek from one of the other toddlers, Tokoyami’s ears buzzed, and his jaw tightened. There was a quiet whistle as he breathed heavily from the slits in his beak that served as his nose. His small, pale hands were clamped against either side of his head, trying his hardest to block out the shrieking laughter. He tried to distract himself by looking out the window again, trying to focus on counting all the red cars. But another delighted scream always brought him back sooner or later. And the way the ancient lights overhead were flickering didn’t at all help his growing headache.

    He wondered, for a moment, if they’d just let him go back up to his room. It was quieter there, after all.

    Probably not. Nobody was allowed to leave the playroom during playtime.

    Oh well. Back to watching the street, he supposed…

    Tokoyami shivered a bit on his stool, legs tucked under him as he rested his chin on his folded arms on the sill of the window. He was cold, and he was tired. He’d not gotten nearly enough sleep the night before, and the nuns were still working on trying to find someone to fix the heater. He wanted to go back to his room and at least get a blanket, but he couldn’t imagine any of the sisters would even allow that. Playtime was the only time they had to get a proper headcount without someone getting bored and scampering off to somewhere else in the building.

    “...Cold…” Tokoyami whispered to himself. The lights flickered again with an electronic buzz. He wondered if he should ask one of the nuns if they could go get a blanket. No, bad idea. He’d just be getting in the way. They were busy, after all.

    More shrill laughter. More buzzing in Tokoyami’s ears.

    “Mmmnngh…” He let out a sound of frustration, pressing his hands even hard against the sides of his head. Plush baby down ruffled between his little fingers as he tried squeezing his eyes shut. He tried to focus on the rushing sound it made when he did, just like Sister Maki had taught him. No good. He could still hear everything around him Plastic clacking against the floor. Kids screaming and giggling and arguing. Nuns scolding and singing. The electric lights buzzing.
   

It was so loud . It was making his head hurt .

    When Tokoyami opened up his eyes again, he realized his breath has fogged the window up. It was hard to see the cars, because it was just so blurry and wet. He tried wiping the windows, hoping nobody would think he was trying to write on them again. When that didn’t work, Tokoyami realized it wasn’t the window that was watery. But his eyes. He was tearing up, and a lot .

    More shrieks. A plushie went soaring through the air, and it hit him in the back of the head. Somewhere a nun was scolding someone.

    More noise. Too much.

    It was too much.

    Tokoyami was so tired.

    His jaw tightened even more under his beak, and he felt like something was caught in his throat. The tears finally started to bleed from his eyes as he dug his fingers into his scalp and clamped his arms over his ears as hard as he could, until the muscles trembled. But no matter how tightly he held his head, he was directly under one of the hanging lights. And It was buzzing so, so loudly. He could still hear it, growing louder and louder, and louder .

    Until finally... pop .

    The sound had startled Tokoyami. So much so, that when he gasped, the poor thing nearly fell to the floor from his spot on the stool. His eyes snapped open as soon as he hit the ground, squawking a bit in pain as he bounced against the splintery wood. When his eyes snapped open to look around, though, he felt a ball of ice grow and settle in his stomach, as his heart plummeted down with it. 

    The lights. They were out.

    The lights were out, and it was dark .

    All around him, Tokoyami could hear the other kids screaming. Not but a few seconds ago, those screams had been delighted squeals. Now, they were just the fearful cries of little kids who couldn’t see in front of them. Just like Tokoyami. 

    He could hear the sounds of the nuns trying to keep everyone calm, whispering reassurances, or trying to sing soft songs in an effort to distract. He heard shoes clomping against the floor, and could feel the reverberations as people ran about. It was utter chaos, with higher-ranking sisters shouting to be heard over the screaming and the crying. Was it the generator out back, someone asked? Had the lights not been fixed yet? The answer didn’t matter. It was dark, and the kids were scared. But none more than Tokoyami.

    “No...nonononono... nonononono…! ” Tokoyami’s voice was a terrified whimper, on the verge of tears. There was a lump in his throat, and he could feel it choking him as he tried his best to get to his feet. His fingers stung with slivers from the floor, and the stool clattered away from his grip in his panic. Tokoyami’s breathing turned fast and laboured, and his little heart thudded behind his chest like a volley of gunfire. What little he could see was only illuminated by the dim light from the window, as the sun struggled to glow through the cloudy, grey sky.

    This couldn't happen. Not here, not now. Not again. He begged silently for the lights to come back on as he stumbled for something to lean on. He prayed that the lights would flicker back to life, and that the screaming would stop. 

    Stop it. Stop it! TOO LOUD! A voice in his head said.

    It wasn’t his.

    As the nuns called for order, one of them was calling for Tokoyami. He could hear her through the deluge of sound, even pick out who it was. It was sister Mitaki. She was shouting his name, saying to stay calm. She could hear her trying to tell him everything would be okay, that he needed to say something, so that she could find him. That he needed to not panic. But it was far too late for that. Far too late indeed.

    “ Nonononononono…!” Tokoyami whimpered weakly again. His breath was only getting faster.

    TOO LOUD! TOO LOUD! The voice in his head said again.

    “Too loud…!” Tokoyami repeated, clapping his hands over his ears. “Too...too dark…!”

    “Tokoyami? TOKOYAMI!” Sister Mitaki shouted from somewhere again. She sounded desperate. She sounded scared. More feet against the floor. More singing. More screaming. Too much noise. Not enough light.

    And finally, Tokoyami lost control.

    “ LEAVE ME ALONE!” An inhuman roar ripped through the room, deafeningly loud.

    The sound was coming from Tokoyami.

    But it wasn’t his voice.

Chapter Text

    Surprise surprise, Midnight was still angry about what her manager had said, even hours after the fact.

    Angrily slurping at her morning coffee (the bitter kind from a corner bodega, rather than the quality gourmet stuff waiting for her at the office), she actually did a good job of hiding it, more or less. One wouldn’t really notice how tightly she was gripping the suffering paper cup. Not when she was swaying her hips like a pendulum with every step, her heeled boots letting the people on the street know that she was on her way. Glossy lips were curled into a smile as she nodded and waved at gasping civilians, rosey and seductive as could be.

    But the whispered cursing under her breath was anything but.

    “I’ll kill him. I’m gonna kill him with my bare hands, I swear to god …” She muttered to herself, lips barely moving. It would totally break her carefully-cultivated persona if someone were to hear her swearing like a whore in church. Still though, it wasn’t like she could just stop . She could still see Tachiōjō’s stupid mustache, and she could still hear is voice annoyingly telling her that they were going ahead with the brand deal. It gnawed at the back of her mind like a hungry rat on a piece of stale bread. When she was sure nobody was looking, Midnight brought her thumb up to her lip, and she nibbled at the nail a bit, feeling her brown furrow in annoyance.

    Again, she knew Tachiōjō was just doing his job. And yes, she probably should have kept her phone with her last night, or checked her email, or something.

    Still. She was nursing something bitter inside her, and it wasn’t the coffee.

    “...Guess I’ll just have to check my calendar, see if there’s anything I had planned for next Tuesday.” She sighed, making her way down the sidewalk towards downtown Hosu. Buildings sprang up around her on all sides, and pedestrians were trickling in from all over the place, on their way to work or simply running errands.

 “ Shit . Didn’t I promise I’d have lunch with Sosaki and the others that day…?” She honestly couldn’t remember. After her little surprise that morning, thinking about anything else was a chore. Part of her wanted to stay angry, in all honesty. It felt good , being angry about this. But she did have a job to do, and when she had her costume on, she didn’t have the time to dedicate towards moping around.

So, like the family from yesterday, Midnight pushed her manager waaaaaay back to the back of her mind, brushing her hair back behind her ears and letting her smile turn coy and alluring. 

The R-Rated Hero, Midnight, was on the prowl.

    Taking another sip from her coffee, Midnight flicked her wrist, glancing down at her watch and squinting at the digital interface. It was 10:30 in the morning, which surprised her. She hadn’t seen any action yet, and it was already almost noon? That was a rarity.

    “Well, Shouta did say something about an influx of new heroes.” She reasoned. “That makes sense.” And it did. There was always a peak season every year for hero registration, and that meant hungry rookies looking to make their big debut. And there was nothing worse for criminal business than an explosion of new heroes. So, naturally, villainous activity would die down for a few weeks or so, and reports of organized crime would get a bit scarce. 

    “And here I was hoping to let off a little steam. What’s a girl gotta do for a little action?” She lamented out loud, as if she was still talking to her cat. It was mostly for show, of course (all a part of the Midnight brand), but part of her sort of was hoping for a villain to appear somewhere. At least then, she could take all her frustrations over her manager out on some unlucky sod. She fit her hands to her hips. “If I knew it was gonna be this boring around here, I'd've gone back to the precinct for a conjugal visit. Purse-thief or not, handsome is still handsome…”

    Midnight laughed at her own joke. But she couldn’t keep the smile on her face for very long.

    Taking another swig of her coffee, Midnight rounded a corner and made her way down one of the many streets, getting a cursory honk from cars that passed by. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a young couple across the way. Two girls, holding hands and giggling at one another as they went. One of them was blushing hard, while the other was busy making her laugh, taking a bit of her long, orange hair and putting it between her nose and lips like a mustache.

    The sight of it made Midnight smile. Two kids in love. Was there anything sweeter? Was there anything nicer, she wondered, than having someone who cares about you like that? She could remember back when she was high school, when she had felt like that. About somebody. About a LOT of somebodies, now that she thought of it. She couldn’t help but revel in the catharsis as the two girls stepped into the stoop of a corner-store. Still holding hands, still giggling.
    Are you gonna go alone?

    Mic’s voice in her head was so real, so present, that she nearly let out a startled yelp, thinking she’d heard the man himself from right over her shoulder. When she whipped her head around and saw that there wasn’t anyone behind her, she felt a flush of embarrassment when she realized it had been in her head. Turning back, the girls were gone. And save for everyone else out and about on their commutes, Midnight was alone.

    Alone.

    For a long, long moment, she felt frozen in place. Her eyes didn’t leave the concrete stoop where the couple had been, blinking behind her red mask as she stood in the center of the sidewalk. 

    Are you gonna go alone?
    Hizashi’s words were so fresh in her mind, that she couldn’t stop thinking about them. It was like she was in some sort of trance. She’d always made a point of not letting things like that get to her, but...this time? This time, for some reason, it was different. This time, Hizashi’s question was clinging to her. Harder that the judgemental stares of the parents of starry-eye children, harder than any tabloid slam-article or intentionally needling interview. 

    What surprised her the most was the envy. She envied the two girls out on their shopping-date, and she had no idea at all why. It was enough to make her hand slide to her belt, gripping it tight like she was looking for something stable to hold on to. The way they were holding hands, the way they looked so happy . Why was it bothering her so badly? She could be doing that with anyone. She had a hundred guys back at the office who would jump at the chance to walk with her hand-in-hand down the sidewalk. There were about a million numbers from a million guys and gals that she knew very well, who she could call up at a moment’s notice for a date.

    And yet, she couldn’t stop biting her inner lip. She couldn’t fight the frustrated tingle in the back of her skull. Reaching up, she unstuck the adhesive tab holding her mask to her face, only pushing it back into place once she’d rubbed her eyes.

    “...Damn…” She whispered to herself. Did she have breakfast that morning? That’d explain her mental turbulence, and her bad mood.

    “Well, that and Mr. Hair-Trigger Schedule…” She went on, thinking back to her conversation with Tachiōjō. 

She needed more coffee.

    Making an effort once again to push all her nasty thoughts aside (or at least the ones that weren’t HER brand of nasty), Midnight tossed the empty cup into a wastebin, before picking up her gait again. She walked with the same alluring swagger, but the smile was harder to keep up this time. Every time someone waved at her, or let out an excited cheer from across the way, she didn’t feel the same spark as she usually did. Her heels clicked less loudly against the pavement, and the way she crossed her arms over her head to push out her chest lacked it’s usual theatrics. Normally she loved the attention. Loved flaunting herself in her costume. It made her feel good.

    But now, with Mic and her manager’s voices bouncing around in her head, backdropped by the happy couple, every time she TRIED to feel good, she just...didn’t. Even thinking about the upcoming Hero’s Feast wasn’t riling her up like it used to. Now she was starting to scare herself a little.

    I need a distraction , she finally decided. And once again, she started wishing that someone somewhere would try to rob a bank, or something like that. Anything to get her mind off of things, really. And as if on cue, she got exactly what she needed.

    The buzzing of her phone in its case on her hip snapped Midnight out of her funk, so much so that she almost gasped out loud, right there in the middle of the street. Not wanting to embarrass herself any further, she made quick work of ducking into an alleyway and pulling out her phone, pressing it to her ear as she stepped behind a rusted, green dumpster and leaned up against a wall. 

She didn’t even get to say “hello” before Aizawa’s voice started to bark at her from the other end of the line.

“ Midnight? Midnight, for fuck’s sake, can you hear me?!” Eraserhead hissed into the phone. She immediately recognized that gravelly voice, but the lack of his usually monotone disturbed her. He sounded ragged and worn. Right away, she could tell there was trouble, and she tensed up on the spot.

“Sho-” She started to respond, before she corrected herself. “Eraserhead, honey! Is everything alright?” She asked.

“No. I need backup. I need your quirk right here, right now .”

This was serious. Eraserhead almost never called for backup. Often enough, he didn’t actually need it. After all, his quirk, erasure, was usually more than enough to put a stop to most fights, even with villains boasting powerful quirks of their own. In a world of superpowers, the power to turn them off with just a glance was probably the most useful. So the fact that he was calling on her of all people was a bad sign of the times, indeed. Nodding to herself, Midnight was already on the move, stepping out of the alley with a stern look on her face.

“Alright. Where are you? What’s the situation?” She asked, storming down the sidewalk. 

“St. Katakana’s. Downtown.”

“The adoption agency?”

“It’s one of the kids. His quirk, it’s out of control.” Aizawa’s voice crackled through the phone. Midnight could hear screaming in the background, and the crashing of something heavy. “I’m trying to-”

“Eraser?”
    “-can’t get close enough to-”

“Eraser, you’re cutting out!” Midnight shouted into the phone, breaking into a run, and then a whirling sprint. Her heart was pounding in her chest, but this time, it wasn’t from excitement. This was pure worry.

Terror.

“We need to...somnambulist...only way to…” Eraserhead’s voice cut in and out of the call, before the call itself was silenced altogether. The lonesome dial tone beeped in Nemuri’s ear, and she grit her teeth, cursing under her breath as she pocketed the device. Fuck fuck fuck . This wasn’t good. A villain with a mean streak abusing their quirk was one thing. An innocent kid losing control of their quirk was a whole other sack of fish.

She knew whereabouts she was going, and took off down the street like a bat out of hell, dodging pedestrians as she went. By some stroke of luck, she wasn’t actually all that far from St. Katakana’s, and she knew a few shortcuts that would get her to the center of downtown much faster. Worry about Aizawa propelled her along quickly, and the thought of any of the kids in the orphanage getting hurt moved her along even faster. And as she ran, she couldn’t help but think back to her and Mandalay. Their conversation at the cafe the other day was fresh in her mind.

Think I wouldn’t be that bad with kids, huh Shino? She wondered to herself.

Let’s hope you're right.

                                                                                                                        0-0-0

Trying to maneuver the urban streets of Hosu was hard enough as it was, and became even more so when you were in a hurry. It almost seemed like the entire city was conspiring against Midnight, throwing everything at her to try and keep her from getting to the orphanage. But she was a pro hero, and one with standards , damn it.

Something like this wasn’t going to keep her from doing her damn job. Especially if Aizawa needed her help.

That was why Nemuri had been thankful that she was able to catch a cab, which brought her all the way to the scene for no charge, once she explained the situation. Initially, she’d felt bad for not paying the guy, but any thought of the fact vanished when she finally stepped out of the taxi.

Met with blaring lights and sirens, St. Katakana’s orphanage was in utter chaos. A smaller building nestled in the thick of the city, St. Katakana’s was a bit more of a traditional-looking place, which wasn’t much of a surprise given that it was run by nuns. A wide front and back yard, with a little playground was contained by a wrought-iron gate, which would have been downright charming were it not for the wailing police cars and the general sense of panic.

As Midnight approached, she could see a crowd forming around the complex, with police and yellow tape doing their very best to hold the throng back. She could see kids, and lots of them, with nuns and paramedics trying to calm them down. One of the nuns was being loaded into an ambulance, her habit taken off to reveal her head wrapped up in a bandage. Shouting, crying, yelling, sobbing.

It made her stomach turn upside-down.

Had she been too late?

“ Shit-! ” She cursed to herself, looking about the carnage. From the looks of it, she seemed to be the only pro there. Everyone else was either a civilian or someone from the precinct trying to hold things together. That is, until one of them seemed to spot her, flagging her down.

“Miss hero! Miss hero, over here!” The man called out, breaking away from the police line to jog over. She was quick to meet him, swallowing down her doubt and steeling herself as she approached.

“Pro hero Eraserhead is already on the scene, right?” She asked, walking with a purpose as the cop led her through the gate. “What’s the situation? What’s going on?”

“It’s one of the kids. He’s got a dangerous quirk, and he’s throwing a tantrum, ma’am.” The cop replied. “One of the head nuns said it started right after the power went out. We got a backup generator started, but…” He swallowed. “We managed to get the building evacuated, but Eraserhead is still in there. We haven’t been able to get into contact with him, and-“ Midnight held up a hand to stop him. There wasn’t time.

“Keep everyone where they are, we’ll handle this.” She said, trying to sound like she was sure of herself. Usually, she has no problem with that. But with this kind of situation, she came off a little sterner than she would have liked. Still, the cop ushered her into the complex, and in no time, Midnight jogged her way into the building, leaving behind the sirens and the crying and the screaming. 

For a time, anyway…

When Midnight first set foot into the lobby of St. Katakana’s, she would do so with the realization that the place wasn’t in very good shape. The floorboards were creaky and splintery, and one look at the sliver-ridden wood made her grateful for her boots. Peeling walls exposed the paneling behind them, and the reception area was lined with waiting-room chairs and furniture that looked like it was years in need of a good renovation. One might be forgiven for thinking this place was abandoned, were it not for the people still spilling out of it.

EMT workers rushed past her, carrying wailing children and limping nuns towards the door. Midnight did the best to stay out of their way, only stopping one to see where the action was.

“Which way?” She asked, taking the larger man by the shoulder. “There’s a pro trying to help a kid somewhere in here. Where are they, which way? Which floor?”

He was about to respond before Nemuri got her answer.

Overhead, the sound of a loud thump made her stiffen up. It was like something huge had slammed itself against the floor above, trying to break down through into the lobby. It didn’t take a genius to know that that was exactly where she needed to go, so Midnight left the EMT to do his job, turning on her heels and racing down the hallway, towards a flight of stairs.

Midnight flew up the steps like a woman on a mission, preemptively reaching over to tear some of the thin material on her sleeve to expose her lovely, pale skin. She didn’t want to activate her quirk now, for fear of sending Eraserhead to sleep as soon as she found him. That is, if whatever he was fighting hadn’t already…

She shook the thought from her head. Now wasn’t the time for doubt.

She needed to focus.

As soon as Nemuri made it to the second floor, she hurtled over the railing and landed on her feet, wincing a bit as she noticed the very tips of her sharp heels sinking into the soft wood. God, this place really was a dump, wasn’t it? Did they really try to take care of kids in a place like this?

“ LEAVE ME ALONE! LEAVE ME ALONE RIGHT NOOOOOOOOW! ”

The primal roar would nearly knock Midnight off her feet, pulling a gasp from her chest as she staggered back, bracing her hands against the railing. She could really hear it now, the sounds of the struggle. There was a loud crash from one of the rooms down the hallway, and a chair sailing out of one of the doors told her which one it was. The chair shattered into splinters against the hallway wall, and Midnight grimaced.

Just what kind of quirk was she dealing? What kind of kid ?
    Steeling herself, Midnight lifted off the railing and stormed for the door, tearing the material off her other sleeve to expose more of her arm. She thought about reaching for her whip, but decided against it. It wouldn’t help things if the first thing the kid saw was her holding a weapon. So, she left it where it was, and sprinted at full speed towards the door.

But nothing could have prepared her for what she saw when she turned the corner.

As soon as she stepped into the room, a vase exploded against the wall, just inches from her head. The glass of her mask protected her eyes from the worst of it as she was pelted by tiny shards, instinctively raising her arms up in defense. Looking past her elbow, Midnight discovered that she was in some kind of...playroom, perhaps? That’s what it had to be, she figured. It was cleaner than most of what she’d seen thus far, and utterly littered with toys. Board games and their components lay strewn about the floor, and the walls were decorated with vibrant and colorful paintings of animals and things. It was cute.

“ LEAVE ME ALONE! ”

That, however, wasn’t.

Flicking her gaze to the center of the room, Midnight saw a familiar figure standing among the mess, his pale hands clamped tightly around the length of a silver capture-scarf. Black hair moved in the air like tendrils of silk underwater, and brass goggles glinted in the flickering, humming lights of the playroom.

Shota Aizawa. No...Eraserhead.

Initially, Midnight was more than relieved to see her old friend still standing. But that feeling vanished when she saw what he was struggling with. And when she did, horror gripped her heart like a cold, dead hand.

It was like nothing that Midnight had ever seen. It was massive, and black as twilight, as if a space of pure nothingness had opened up right before her very eyes. It was a mass of inky blackness that thrashed and swirled in the air, encompassing the size of a car . It’s girthy form damn near filled the room, twisting and curling into alien shapes that she could barely even make sense of. And that was only with the initial glance.

Midnight could see eyes. She could see eyes and hands, eyes that burned like two huge, yellow embers. Hands that ended in huge, shadowy talons, each one longer than she was tall. Amidst the black, she could make out a narrow, avian-shaped head, it’s beak stretching impossibly wide in a roar of defiance. It was like a nightmare come to life, and for a moment, she was frozen in place, utterly bewildered by what she saw. Utterly transfixed. Utterly in denial.

Something...something like this couldn’t exist, right? It was so huge , and dark , and just... wrong. Unnaturally, alienly wrong .

Another screaming roar brought Midnight back to her senses, especially as she realized that Eraserhead was still struggling with the creature. To her horror, she saw that it had one end of his capture-scarf wrapped up in it’s wispy, shadowy claw, and that Eraserhead was struggling to get it back.

“ERASER!” She called out. That was a mistake. As soon as her friend looked over his shoulder, the beast saw it’s opportunity. Rearing back, the creature let out another unearthly howl, so loud that Midnight had to clamp her hands over her ears. With that, it yanked its claw back, releasing the scarf it held as it sent Erasherhead sailing through the air in an arc. His body slammed against the opposite wall with a heavy thud, and Midnight would be able to hear his grunt of pain even through her hands.

“ Shit! ” She spat, her hand  falling to her whip. The creature must have seen this, because it turned its fiery gaze her way. Eyes like burning suns amidst the blackness of the void glared at her, and the beast snapped out with a person-sized claw, swiping at Midnight with full force. She ducked just in time to feel one of the ghostly tendrils clip through her hair, taking a few precious strands with it as she rolled away, making for the other hero. 

By the time she got to him and helped him up, Eraser was gritting his teeth, bleeding heavily from a small gash in his forehead.

“Are you okay?” She asked, quickly. “Need to tap out?”
    “Not on your life.” He growled back. She almost wanted to smirk, before Aizawa’s eyes widened, and he barked out an order.
    “ SCATTER!”

Instinct took over, and at the exact same moment, both pros launched off one another, tumbling away from the massive, dark talon that sliced through the air where they’d been standing. There was a terrible moaning of wood as the beast tore the wall open like it was made of wet paper, exposing the boards and the wires inside like a hunter gutting it’s kill. Both Midnight and Eraserhead had gotten away just in the nick of time, snapping into ready-stances as the birdlike creature retreated back to it’s corner of the room, snarling and shaking out it’s huge hand.

“Fuck’s sake, Eraser, what is that thing?!” Midnight cursed, snapping her whip in her hands. Honestly, her frustration was warranted. This... whatever it was had almost split her in half TWICE now, and she didn’t even know what to call it. But before Eraserhead could even answer her, the it-beast screeched out a reply of it’s own, slamming huge fists into the ground hard enough to make Midnight think the whole floor might come crashing down.

“ Leave me alone! LeavemealoneleavemealoneLEAVE ME ALOOOOOOOONE! ” It howled. The noise was so loud that Midnight could feel it hammering in her chest. She could feel it shake her bones as it left her ears ringing, a knot tying up in her stomach and making her feel sick. Again and again, it bashed the floor with it’s massive, clawed fists, splintering the wood and sending toys and things flying. 

Only precise cracks from her whip kept flying debris from knocking her out cold, snapping them out of the air as she cracked the length of the leather back and forth. Eraserhead did the same thing, trying to make his way towards Midnight as his capture-scarf knocked the projectiles away.

“That’s...that’s not the kid, is it? Is it a transformation quirk or something?” Midnight asked, adjusting her swings so as to not hit Aizawa as he approached. He was limping a bit.

“No. The kid’s behind it somewhere, and I can’t get close enough.”

“Behind…?”

As the beast continued to throw it’s fit, Midnight squinted, ducking down as a little storm of game pieces hurtled overhead. She crouched with a leg out, bracing a hand against the floor as she tried to see what Eraserhead was talking about. He kept her line of sight clear, covering her as best he could with his capture-scarf. 

Lo and behold, Eraser was right.

Midnight’s eyes widened when she saw something little huddling in a corner, just behind the smokey entity’s umbral form. It was a little hard to make out at first, especially with the beast causing such a ruckus, but as her eyes adjusted behind her mask, Midnight could make out the small figure of a little boy, his arms clamped over his ears and his hands digging into the hair of his scalp.

No, not hair. Feathers .

He couldn’t have been more than five or six years old. Not with the size that he was. His pale skin stood out against the creature’s black hide, even in the poor lighting that the buzzing bulbs above provided. The boy was a mutant, she could tell, with an avian head complete with a beak that matched the monster in shape. But where the monster was angry, snarling and slashing and swiping and roaring, the kid looked scared. More scared, she thought, than she’d seen anyone be.

His eyes were wound shut tighter than a vice, and he was rocking back and forth, the small of his back pressed up against the wall as he wailed. Tears flowed freely down the feathers of his face, dripping to the floor in fat beads. He was crying . Of course he was crying. He was scared. This thing had him trapped after all, it…

...No, wait.

The beast...it had a tail. In lieu of a lower half or legs, the shadow-monster had something like a tail, and that tail arced like lightning all the way back to the child. It was attached, like an umbilical cord, to his tummy, springing from his shirt like a ghost springing from a painting. All while the child cried and cried, his voice hoarse from screaming out for someone to help.

Good god.

This creature. It was the boy’s quirk .

And it was out of control.

“MIDNIGHT, MOVE!”

Midnight must have gotten caught up in it, because Eraserhead suddenly slamming into her and knocking her out of the way of an incoming claw was far more jarring than it should have been. She hissed in pain as she and Eraserhead hit the ground and slid, each one rolling to their feet as the monster recovered, retracting it’s huge talons from the mighty gash that it had torn into the floor. In seconds, the two pros were on their feet again, not wanting to give the rampaging quirk any more of an upper-hand.

“That’s it, I’m ending this!” Midnight spat, and she raised her arm out, feeling the air kiss the bair skin as she activated her quirk. She felt her skin tingle as hidden glands beneath the epidermis worked their magic. A thick, pink fog exploded from her exposed flesh, and she aimed it right at the creature and the crying kid. Maybe, if she was able to get the child to fall asleep, the quirk would retract.

No such luck.

“ HATE GLITTER! ” The monster, as if expecting Midnight’s assault, roared out. Just as the pink cloud made to collide with it, she watched in horror as it’s already massive hands GREW, swelling to at least double the size. With another warcry, it swept its arms out, and the cloud was blown away, dissipating as harmlessly as though it were cigarette smoke. Not even an errant mote of the stuff had reached the kid, who sobbed out loud again as he continued to rock back and forth, with his beastial familiar howling out a challenge. “ NO GLITTER! HATE GLITTER! ”

“Well, fuck. ” Midnight growled. Some of the cloud had swept their way, and while she knew it would have no effect on her, she was more worried about Aizawa. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that he was already on it, wrapping up his nose and his mouth with his scarf for a makeshift gas mask. 

“Somnambulist isn’t going to work unless I get closer.” She lamented. “Have you tried cancelling his quirk, at all?”

“Of course I have. I’ve been trying this entire time.” Aizawa replied. It was true. With his goggles down, she could see his bloodshot eyes glowing the familiar red, strained by overuse. “If that thing COMES from the kid, then I’d probably be able to stop it from coming out. But it’s already out, so my power won’t work.”

“Then what’s the pla-”

Midnight wouldn’t get to finish her sentence before the creature surged forward, lashing out with a huge arm and a scream. This time, neither of the heroes would get a chance to dodge away, and they were both caught in the midsection and sent tumbling away. Midnight felt the air leave her lungs as she was batted aside like a fly, and she felt her feet leave the ground as she was lifted up, only to feel her back hit the wall behind her, and hard . She let out a croaking gasp before she slumped to the ground, pain arcing through her body like shocks of lightning. Eraserhead had also been thrown clear, hitting the wall as well.

“Shit shit shit, fucking shit… ” Midnight wheezed. One lense of her mask had been cracked, and her arm wobbled as she tried to lift herself up from a heap on the ground. She tasted something warm and coppery in her mouth. A quick spit revealed it was indeed her own blood. “Eraser? Eraser, you okay?’

No response.

Shit .

Another screech of challenge from the quirk-beast, another fit of fists pounding into the floor. Midnight grimaced as her midsection throbbed. The wind had been utterly knocked out of her, and her body felt as heavy as lead as she tried to haul herself to her feet. This wasn’t going as planned. She didn’t even have a plan, beyond putting the kid to sleep. She hadn’t been expecting... this . No-one could have expected this. Not a quirk like this one, not a quirk as angry as this.

With a cough, Midnight finally hauled herself up, eyes laser-locked on the rampaging shadow and the child behind it. She pressed an arm to her side, huffing and panting as blood trickled from her nose. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Eraserhead face-down on the floor, struggling to move. His left arm was bending in a way it shouldn’t be. His capture-scarf was inert and limp against his neck.

She needed to change her strategy.

“ LEAVE ME ALONE! JUST LEAVE US ALONE! ” The quirk howled, throwing it’s avian head back. It was punctuated by a whimpering wail from the child, who looked more frightened than ever. Nemuri stumbled back, bracing a hand against the wall. Something in her side hurt, and a lot . 

This wasn’t working. Eraserhead was down, and his quirk was having no effect. Her own quirk was useless too, and she couldn’t just fill the room with slumber-gas. Not now, anyway. Eraserhead could have a concussion, or internal injuries that might worsen if he fell unconscious. And all she had beyond that was her whip and her fan. 

“Fuck…” She spat, trying to think, bracing herself for another attack. 

And then? It happened.

A quick moment. A skip of the record. The drop of a pin.

For the briefest of seconds, Nemuri’s eyes fell on the child.

Her vision was a little hazy with blood, a little blurred from tears of pain. But the boy was crying even more, she could see. His face was strained, and tiny fingers curled into fists in his feathers, one hand desperately groping and pulling at the shadowy umbilical-cord that attached the monster to him.

For a moment, the world slowed down for Nemuri. For a moment, the world went quiet, and the breath hitched in her throat.

This kid. He was scared. Scared scared. 

But he was fighting back. He was fighting as hard as they were to get the beast back in it’s cage. He was at the very eye of the storm, a little boy against a mountain, and he was fighting back .

And when his eyes opened, bloodshot and flooded with tears, they met Nemuri’s. And though she couldn’t hear him, she could see his beak move. She could make out the words that he pleaded to her from across the room, as frightened and desperate young eyes bore into her soul.

“Help me!”

And in that moment, Nemuri’s eyes widened.

...It’s said that the very best of the best, the top pro heroes around, showed signs of greatness even as children. It’s said that in times of need, when all others flee from danger, those chosen to be true heroes find themselves running towards it. Many of them claim that their bodies simply moved before they could think. Before they could assess the danger to their own selves. No thoughts, just instinct. A desire to help. A desire to save .

Feet that moved on their own.

Just like Nemuri’s.

Looking back, she would never remember when her hand pushed off against the wall, or which of her legs lifted first. Try as she might, she would never remember where she got the sudden burst of energy that bloomed from deep within, silencing her pain and her exhaustion. Nemuri would never know what drove her to dive head-first towards the shadow-creature that could have turned her into mincemeat in mere seconds. All she would remember was the sound of Eraserhead’s voice as he yelled for her to stop. All she would remember was the way the child looked at her.

All she would remember was that someone needed saving.

Nemuri’s own primal scream left her throat as she charged the monster, feeling it’s burning gaze upon her skin. She sprinted faster than she’d ever had before, feeling the air against her face cut at her flesh. She exploded from her spot on the floor, bolting across the room in a manner that would make Ingenium blush. She ran so fast that her mask fell away, powerful legs pumping as they carried her towards the shadow.

The creature, for the first time, looked surprised. It even flinched at the way she screamed, and swept a claw out. But Nemuri was ready this time. She ducked, rolled, and then jumped back to her feet, narrowly avoiding the second set of claws that came slashing at her from beneath. Another swipe, another dodge. Suddenly, the creature was launching a barrage of strikes, a storm of claws and blows that Midnight parried with a dance. 

Something raked her cheek. She felt the skin open. She felt something hot flow down her cheek and neck.

She kept going.

“ GO AWAY GO AWAY GOAWAYGOAWAYGOAWAYGOAWAYGOAWAAAAAAAAAAAAY! ” It howled. She ignored it, sidestepping blow after blow after blow. It was like she was being attacked by a forest of long, black arms, all while the yellow embers of its eyes glowed brighter and brighter, staring her down with a fury she couldn’t even begin to describe.

But she wasn’t looking at its eyes.

She was looking at the boy. And in turn, he saw her.

There was no pain, there was no sound. The entire room faded away around her. Shouta’s shouting, the creature’s roaring, the splintering of the wood, none of it mattered. She couldn’t hear any of it. The world was just her. Her, and the child, who saw her coming with eyes wide. And just like her, he showed his own courage. He released his feathers from his own iron grip as he saw her coming. He let the umbilical-cord go.

She ducked under a claw.

He stood on shaking legs.

She saw an opening. He held his arms out. Nemuri dove. Time stopped.

And when it resumed, Nemuri had him in her arms.

The landing was not a light one. She hit the ground hard, curling her body around the bird-headed boy to keep him safe from the impact. Her arms wrapped tightly around him, pulling him into her as she skidded across the floor behind the howling monster. She buried his face into the crook of her neck as they went, bracing a hand over his scalp to keep him from bumping his head. All while her quirk activated, enveloping them in a cloud of sickly-sweet slumber gas. They only came to a stop when Nemuri’s back hit the opposing wall. 

But despite the pain, she still held him tightly, all while he wailed into her shoulder.

“It’s okay! It’s okay, honey it’s okay, I’ve got you! I’ve got you, shhhhhh…” Nemuri got to her knees, cradling the child against her as she whispered gently. She upped the power of her quirk, giving him a direct dose at point-blank range. She felt the chin of his beak resting against her shoulder as he sobbed, tiny arms wrapped so hard around her, she thought she might bruise. He cried, loudly, And she rubbed his back with one hand and cradled his head with the other. “It’s okay...it’s okay baby, you did good. You did so good! It’s okay, it’s okay...I’ve got you. I’m here, baby…” She said, surprising herself with how...tender, her voice sounded. Legitimately, genuinely tender.
    She didn’t have a plan for this. All she had wanted to do was get to him, to make sure he was okay. Other than letting her quirk loose, she didn’t have a plan to calm him or the beast down. Something inside her just...needed to be there for him. She needed him to know that she was there to help.

Her eyes were wound shut as she held the boy, listening to his wails turn into sobs in her ear. He clung to her like his life depended on it, and she in turn continued to whisper softly to him, telling him in any way she could that things would be alright. She could feel something struggling between them, like he’d accidentally kneed her in the stomach, but she ignored it and held fast. Wails turned into sobs, sobs turned into moans, and moans turned into whimpers as the gas finally took effect.

Nemuri could finally feel his grip loosening. His struggles slowed to a sluggish halt, and his cries finally fell silent as the little boy went limp in Midnight’s arms. She braced herself, still shielding him with her body, ready to feel the quirk-beast’s claws rake across her back.

When nothing did, her eyes opened.

The room was quiet. There was no howling, no roaring. No cries of torment or sounds of floorboards cracking under a thunderous fist. Finally, it was utterly, completely quiet, save for the gentle breathing of the boy in Nemuri’s arms. Shaking and staggering, she stood and turned, wincing as the pain in her side flared up but ultimately ignoring it as she turned around to look. 

The shadow-beast was nowhere in sight. The playroom was in utter shambles, but the massive beast that had nearly killed her and Eraser was gone.

Eraserhead probably said something in that moment. He probably called out to her, but Nemuri honestly just didn’t hear it. Because then, in that moment, she thought she’d heard the boy say something as he drifted off to sleep. 

It was quiet, and it was weak. His voice had to be raw and red from screaming and crying.

But for a moment...for just a single moment…

...Nemuri could have sworn she heard a thank-you .

Chapter Text

    “Tiger! See if the EMTs need help carrying anyone out of the building!”

    “Yes ma’am!”

    “Pixie-Bob, see if you can get a path cleared so the ambulances can get in and out easier.”

    “You got it!”

    Mandalay always tried her best to compose herself during something like this. She was a hero after all, someone who was charged with the safety and the well-being of those she was saving. She needed them to look at her and see something hopeful, especially when there were little kids involved. It wouldn’t do anyone any good to see her in distress when she was trying to be their hero, after all. So, she kept her attitude up, even if everything about this situation was breaking her heart.

    “C’mon now, it’s gonna be okay! Let’s get you guys back to the group…” She said softly after barking out her order to her team. In her big paw-gloves, she held the hands of two children, so small and short that she had to stoop a bit. “Try not to wander off, okay? We wanna make sure we can find everyone, it’s very important.” In turn, the kids, two young boys, nodded up at her. They’d been crying hard when Mandalay found them huddled behind a parked car in the parking lot, some few feet away from the scene. But now they were both grinning, staring up at her with wide, wet eyes.

    She was quick to walk them back over to the small army of kids that had been grouped together on the lawn, tended to by some of the nuns from the orphanage being evacuated, as well as a handful of EMTs. One of the nuns thanked Mandalay after the two wanderers were absorbed back into the group, taking her by the glove with both of her thin, pale hands. The two boys thanked her too, clinging to her leg for a moment before the same nun ushered them back with the other children. At that point, Mandalay couldn’t help but think back to that training session at UA. The obstacle course.

    That had been fun.

    The real thing? Not so much.

    “Ragdoll!” Mandalay called out as she turned her attention back to the commotion surrounding the orphanage. She pressed finger to her kitty-ear communicator. “Ragdoll, how’s interior evacuation going?”

    “Good, meow!” Tomoko’s cheery voice crackled through the speaking-grill. “There’s only a few people left inside, but as far as I can tell, it’s mostly pros and emergency response!”

    “Assist them any way you can. We may have been late, but we can still lend a helping paw.”

    “You betcha!” Ragdoll agreed, before the communicator crackled off. Mandalay sighed. Something inside her told her that this was going to be a long day. But she banished the thought as quickly as it came. Keep up a good attitude for the civilians, and all that.

    The sound of yet more sirens caught her by surprise, and she turned to see more of the red and white vehicles pulling into the parking lot, squeezing into the many empty spaces. That, at least, she wouldn’t have to worry about. While there weren’t many injured in general by her count, she knew they’d be accounted for. 

Closing her eyes, Mandalay focused on the driver of the first ambulance, a stouter man with scales. She felt the warmth of her quirk bloom in her mind, and felt the connection between the two of them take hold. Sending a quick introduction and some instructions, she telepathically told them where they needed to go, and who was already being tended to. The scaled man, albeit a bit surprised to be hearing a voice in his head, eventually nodded, turning his head to shout at the other paramedics, who deployed at his command. Seeing this, Mandalay dropped the connection and relaxed.

“Good!” She said to nobody but herself, her electronic tail curling behind her. She watched as the paramedics flew into action, rushing over to where she’d indicated, and set to work tending to any of the injured that were left. Thankfully, from what she’d seen, there weren’t many, and the casualties weren’t major. Some deeper scratches, a bruise or two. In her particular line of hero work, she’d seen much, much worse. And she was thankful she didn’t see much of that here, with all of these kids around. “Poor babies…”

    She couldn’t help but think back to the training she did back in UA, the exercise she and Midnight had been discussing the other day. When her class had been tasked with guiding groups of kids through an obstacle course. That kind of training in patience would come in handy today, she could tell, especially when she saw one of the kids break away from the group on the lawn. 

    One of the nuns called for her to come back, but Mandalay was already on the case. She watched as the little girl ran across the lawn, and sprang into action when she saw she was making for the parking lot, tears in her eyes and hands on her ears. With a burst of speed, she intercepted her, getting between her and the parking lot with mere feet to spare. The girl looked surprised at first, but her wet eyes widened when they looked up at Mandalay. In turn, she smiled, and knelt down, gently holding her hands out.

    “Sweetie, you have to stay with the group right now, okay?” She said, without a hint of annoyance or frustration in her voice. It was all kindness and honey, as she gently took the girl’s hands and rubbed them with the thumb-pads of her paw gloves. “Until everything is under control, we need you close by so we can make sure you’re safe, okay?”

    The girl didn’t resist when she gently took her hands away from her ears. She did, however, sniffle, running an arm across her nose.

    “It’s...it’s so loud…” 

“You say something boss?” Ragdoll’s voice in her ear made Mandalay jump. She quickly pressed the mute button, making a note to apologize to Ragdoll later. 

“I know it’s loud, honey. But I promise, the sirens will go away very soon…” Mandalay said softly. She patted the girl’s hands. “But you can’t go running away like that, okay? We can’t keep you safe if we can’t find you!” 

The child seemed to understand, slowly nodding as she rubbed her eye. Mandalay smiled.

“How about this?” She asked, reaching to her belt. Inside one of the compartments was her cell-phone, which she produced along with a collapsing headset. Handing the device to the girl, she slipped the headset over her ears, adjusting them to the younger girl’s head size before showing her the screen. Navigating to the music app, she would watch the child’s eyes widen as soft piano keys began to play.

“Until this is all over, you can listen to that. It’s much nicer than sirens, isn’t it?” She asked. The girl smiled, nodding her head quick enough to shake the headphones. Letting out a little giggle, Mandalay adjusted them for her, before standing up and leading her back to the group, now that she was nice and distracted.

There’s something to be said about kids and screentime there, but I’m not sure what. She thought to herself, as the little girl ran back to join the group. The nun who’d been calling for her ushered her back with all the kids, tilting her head at the headset she now sported. Even so, she nodded in thanks at Mandalay, who in turn waved back. After that, she pressed her palm to her own headset.

“Ragdroll? Ragdoll, come in, over.” She said, her tail curling behind her. “Sorry to cut you off like that, Ragdoll. I was dealing with a civilian. Is everything alright, over?”

“That’s okay!” Ragdoll’s cheery voice crackled over the radio. Then, it became ultimately less-cheery. “And no, it’s not. It looks like we’ve got an injured pro!”

“ What? ”

Eyes snapping up faster than a camera lens could shutter, Mandalay quickly took a headcount of her own team. Ragdoll, she knew, was in the building, and safe (as she would have told her otherwise). A glance left, and she saw Pixie-Bob using her quirk to summon up great mounds of earth that gently pushed cars out of the way to make room for incoming ambulances and police cars. To the right, she saw Tiger, obscene muscle bulging as he helped EMTs load equipment and the injured.

Tiger and the girls were safe.
   

Then who…?

“Ragdoll, do they need an evac? Who’s-” She started to ask. She wouldn’t get a chance to finish her question, though. Nor would she get a chance to hear back from Ragdoll, before she saw the other woman scurrying out of the building, alongside an EMT. Between the two of them, a dark figure staggered, helped along by Ragdoll and the emergency worker down the steps, his arm carefully wrapped in a sling, and his long, black hair tied back.

Eraserhead.

The disheveled pro’s face was straining, his jaw tight and his forehead dotted with sweat. Strands of wayward hair stuck to it like tendrils, one eye beginning to swell shut like it had been stung by a bee. Horrified, Mandalay rushed over, her mind a flurry of questions.

“Eraserhead! Goodness, are you...well, no, you’re not okay . But are…” She tried to ask, the EMT cutting in.

“He’s got a broken arm, and while the head wounds didn’t seem too deep, we’re still taking him in for hospitalization.”

“I said I was fine. ” Eraserhead grunted. He was not.

“From what he was saying, it sounds like the situation is under control.” Ragdoll added as they helped the injured hero onto one of the emergency gurneys. “And I checked around the inside, it doesn’t look like the integrity of the building is at risk, meow!”

“So no collapsing. That’s good.” Mandalay breathed a sigh of relief. Then, she realized something. “Wait, the situation is under control? What was happening in there? Didn’t you say there were more pros inside?” She asked Ragdoll. Aizawa answered in her stead.
   

“Just one.” He said, while an EMT strapped him in.

“Who?”

Mandalay wouldn’t have to wait long for her answer, a loud cheer from behind her making her tail stick sharply up.

Whirling around, she worried for a moment that maybe the building actually had collapsed. When she saw it still standing, she felt her shoulders relax, but a movement caught her eye. She watched as another familiar figure stepped out from the orphanage patio. This was what the crowd gathered near the fence was likely cheering for, and she immediately recognized the long hair and brilliantly curvy frame of her friend and fellow pro, Midnight.

She looked far better off than Aizawa did. Save for the rips in her costume and a few cuts here and there, she looked fine, comparatively. She did seem tired, though, as she didn’t immediately start working the crowd like she usually would have after a job well-done. And after a moment, Mandalay saw why, and her chest flooded with worry again.

In her arms, tucked closely against her like something precious and valuable, was a little boy.

He was wrapped up in a blanket, his birdlike head resting on her shoulder, making the black feathers stand out against the white of her costume. Slender fingers threaded through them as she hugged him close, her usual satisfied grin replaced with something that looked...worried. Tired.

Sad.

Dashing towards the gate, Mandalay could see her friend whispering something, gently rubbing the boy’s back as they neared the entrance to the complex. To Mandalay’s great relief, she could see that the kid was breathing, his little chest rising and falling steadily. He seemed unharmed, which was yet another blessing. Even so, she set to work quickly, calling out to the crowd as more emergency workers tried to get through to Midnight.

0-0-0

Nemuri was tired.

Every bone in her body ached, and the cut on her face burned as the afternoon breezed kissed it. Her head was pounding, and she felt like she needed to lay down on the couch with a drink in hand. Maybe forever.

Her legs were wobbling by the time she started down the stairs inside the building, after she made sure the paramedics knew where to find the downed Aizawa. The cut on her face was starting to sting something fierce, and she couldn’t be one-hundred percent sure about it, but she was fairly certain she’d pulled a muscle in her shoulder or something, if it hadn’t snapped or broken altogether. Maybe she’d have one of the EMTs outside look at it.

But not before she got the kid into better hands.

It still shocked her how light he was, and just how small he really felt, bundled up in her arms in the blanket she’d found on her way out of the playroom. Looking at the ruins of the little room, the floorboards that had been sundered like toothpicks and the walls that had been cracked like glass, she could hardly believe all that damage had come from the little thing sleeping soundly in the crook of her neck. 

He felt so... delicate . Delicate and light, like he might break if she moved him wrong. Were all little kids like this, she wondered? Had it...had it been that long since she’d held a child?

Focus . She thought to herself. Get him to an ambulance before that...THING comes back out.

She tried to walk as briskly as her weakened legs would allow, not wanting to wake the boy up by jostling him around while she tried to run. Instead, she took her time, rubbing his back and releasing little micro-doses of her quirk as she walked, letting an aura of pink mist waft over her body. Not enough to knock anyone out nearby, but more than enough to ensure this boy stayed asleep

Just in case.

By the time Midnight was in the lobby and out the door, she felt like she was ready to collapse. But any chance of that was dashed when a cheer suddenly erupted from somewhere in front of her, and she gasped with a start, instinct making her arms curl tighter around the little boy. In his sleep, he let out a whimper, which put her even MORE on-edge. Normally, she adored being cheered for. She loved having so many eyes on her at once, and hearing the adulation of the good people who got the chance to see her in action. 

Right now, with her entire body aching and trying to keep a potentially VERY dangerous child asleep?
   

Not so much!

Bracing a protective hand on the back of his head, Nemuri put on a fake smile as her jaw tightened up, worry turning to frustration. She was a hero with an act to keep up, so it wasn’t like she could start screaming her head off to get everyone to shut the hell up. Instead, she just let out one last puff of sleeping-gas, took a deep breath, and made her way down the pavilion. And for good measure, she tucked the blanket over the kid’s head, especially after she heard the familiar shutter-click of cameras going off. 

“MIDNIGHT! Hey, Midnight, look over here!”

“Miss Midnight! Who is that, is he okay?”

“Who let her near an orphanage?!”

As the crowd began to call out for her, Midnight let her smile grow wider and a bit more genuine, while at the same time pulling more and more of the blanket over the child’s head. They could take all the pictures they wanted of her. She didn’t mind. But he was too young to have his face on the cover of anything, be it a newspaper or a fanblog. She became especially adamant when she realized that some of the cameras were being operated by small news crews.

“Midnight, Midnight! Can we get a quote from you really quick? What happened in there?” One of them asked as she passed through the gate entrance. A tickle at the back of her neck made her vehemently aware that someone was trying to stick a microphone into her face. She ignored it.

A quote? Yeah, sure. Not like I’m carrying a possibly-injured child or anything like that… She thought bitterly to herself.

There was, however, one voice she did indeed recognize.

A soft one. A kind one.

“Midnight?”

Instantly recognizing the sound of Shino’s voice, Midnight jolted her head left, to see none other than Mandalay rushing towards her. Over the other woman’s shoulder, she could see Aizawa in the distance, being tended to by the same EMTs that she’d seen carrying him out with Ragdoll’s assistance. 

Despite the aches in her bones and the frustration with the civilians, she couldn’t fight the real smile of relief that crept up on her features. It really spoke to Mandalay’s abilities as a rescue hero, that the mere sight of her was reassuring.

“Midnight! Midnight, oh goodness, are you okay? You look like you just got run through a woodchipper.” She asked, jogging up to the other pro. She looked like she was about to say something, but her eyes fell to the boy in Midnight’s arms. “Is he…?”

“He’s okay, darling. Just asleep.” It was Midnight’s turn to reassure her, and she sighed. “But I do need to hand him off to the emergency services. And they need to be careful. He needs to stay asleep, for now.” She went on, her voice taking on a bit more of a serious tone. Mandalay looked like she was about to question that, but she thought better of it, turning to send a mental message to one of the EMTs nearby. Soon, a pair of them were rushing over with a gurney.

“I don’t think he’s injured.” Midnight explained as Mandalay passed her by. She and Ragdoll worked together to make sure the crowd didn’t creep up on them unexpectedly. As the emergency workers laid out the gurney, she unwrapped the snoring child, and slowly set him down like she was placing fine china. “Do you have any anesthetics?”

“We do, in the back of the-” One of them started to answer.

“Keep it on-hand.” Midnight interrupted. “Until he’s in a stable environment, he can’t wake up, or he might lose control of his quirk.”

There was a moment of hesitation from the two emergency workers, but the two of them nodded before setting to work on the boy. When they did, Midnight looked down, and she felt something inside her begin to ache.

Now that he was asleep, and now that there wasn’t a giant shadow-monster trying to split her in two, she could get a better look at him. From his starchy feathers to his hooked beak, everything about him echoed the avian beast that had been rampaging inside the building only mere minutes ago. But where that thing had been crazed and furious, he looked so...peaceful, now. True enough, there were dried streaks of tears coming from his eyes, but the way he snoozed quietly as the EMTs packed him up like a parcel was…

Well, in any case, she was just glad to see he wasn’t hurt.

“Ma’am?”

Midnight blinked, and when she looked up from the child, she realized the senior of the two medics was talking to her.

“Sorry, what?”
   

“Ma’am, I need you to let go.”

She blinked again, and when she looked down, Midnight realized that she was still holding the boy.

And to her surprise, she had been holding his hand.

“I….ah, sorry.” She responded, releasing her gentle grip so the emergency workers could finish up. She stepped back, and before long, she watched the gurney wheel away, all the way to the open mouths of one of the many ambulances. And as she watched him go, Midnight felt the ache in her chest grow worse, unable to pull her eyes away until he was loaded into the back of the truck, and the doors were slammed closed behind him.

Behind her, Mandalay had been watching all of this. And with a few moment’s hesitation, she reached up, placing a hand on Midnight’s shoulder.

“...Hey...is everything alright?”

For a moment, Midnight couldn’t answer. She was still watching the ambulance pull out of the parking space, as if it had her enthralled in some trance. Mandalay bit her lip.

“...My team will have everything handled from here. Do you need an ambulance too?” She asked, after clearing her voice. Again, it took Midnight a moment to answer, and she had to repeat herself over the blaring of the ambulance siren as it moved.

“I’m...I’m fine. I’m alright.” She said, reaching across  her chest to squeeze her own arm. Her gaze finally broke away from the ambulance, and she offered Mandalay a weak smile. It was a genuine one, but there was something in her eyes that seemed so...unsure. So genuinely, truly upset. It was something that Mandalay had never seen before in Midnight, and that itself was jarring enough. “Sorry. Just a little rattled.” She tried to assure the other woman.

Mandalay wasn’t convinced.. This wasn’t like her. Not at all. After a job well done, especially one like this, where everyone had made it out relatively okay, Midnight was always the first to start posing for the camera. Always the first to start winking at reporters while she answered their questions. Right now? It looked more like she was at a loss for words.

For the first time in her life, Mandalay could tell that Midnight was... unsure .

And that was frightening.

“What... happened ?” She asked. And to that, Midnight didn’t have an answer. Instead, she turned around to look back at the ambulance, which had finally cleared the parking lot, and vanished off into the highway, taking the mysterious little boy with it. And after a long, quiet moment of merely watching the entrance into the parking lot, she finally replied in a whisper, as the shouting voices and the wailing sirens played out behind her.

“...I have no idea.”