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The press. I fucking hate the press. Right now they're the most difficult obstacle in my path, which is kind of saying a lot since there's recently been an increase in villainous activity. But just because I'm a Professional Hero doesn't mean that the only trouble I ever have to deal with is with Villains.
I'm not the most well-known Hero, but recently journalists have been swamping me because of my sudden climb in the ranks. Ironically like the Pro Hero Hawks, I'm surprisingly high on the Hero Billboard Chart considering my age. Before the last change in ranks, I was hovering in the 50s. Now I've shot up to the low teens and I'm challenging the Number 10 Hero for his place.
Currently however, I'm not doing anything as spectacular as that sounds. I'm desperately wanting to get away from the press so that I can check my pants and make sure I haven't just hit my period.
A few minutes ago, I wrapped a Villain up in vines with my quirk and she may or may not have crucial information about a large underground group of Villains. My agency is in charge of pursuing that group of Villains, who call themselves "Chrysanthems" after the flower, Chrysanthemums.
They say that the flower, and their group, represents a future of hope, a better future than the Hero Society has set up right now. They might be right in a way. Sometimes the things that Villains say make a lot of sense and that scares me a little.
Of course, just thinking about it doesn't do anyone any good. I have to figure things out in this world of grey. Everything is the same shade to eyes like ours, we have to sort it based on other things that are much less clear-cut than color.
A few years ago, I figured out that being a Professional Hero is a good way to solve a lot of immediate problems in this world, so that's what I chose to become. Now, looking back on that, I'm happy with that decision. It opened a lot of opportunities for me and led me to a lot of people.
People like Hawks. Or as I know him: Keigo.
He's a Pro Hero, a little older than me, and is nothing like anyone I've ever met. Originally, he infuriated me because when we tried to work together on a mission he didn't trust me to be able to hold my own. He expected me to be bad at my job and because of that the mission was a billion times harder.
The next time we met was at the Hero Billboard Charts three years ago. He was there as a member of the Top 10. I was there to congratulate Mirko who's been a friend of mine for a long time. It turned out that the two of them were friends too and when Mirko — Rumi — started talking to me after the ceremony, he walked over with her. Him and I started bickering almost instantly and Rumi got tired of it quickly so she demanded that we figure out our problems and leave her away from it. After she walked away there was more arguing until we found common ground . . . with how infuriating Rumi could be.
It wasn't what she had planned, no doubt, but it worked. A few weeks later and we were friends, a few weeks after that, the three of us acted as close as if we had all been friends since childhood. It took over a year of being friends before Keigo and I started dating.
Now that I think about it, our two-year anniversary is coming up. I should get him something. Last year I was so busy with work that on the day-of I just had to send him a bucket of chicken.
Thank goodness the press hasn't found out about our relationship. We've gone to some rather extreme lengths before to prevent anyone from knowing that. After all, what's more annoying than having someone shove a mic in your face and ask a personal question?
"Pro Hero Oleander, please, tell the people what your plans are after you beat Gang Orca out of the Top 10?" Oh yeah, just like this.
The woman who asked is at the front of a mob of people who are hoping to ask me questions. I don't want to answer any of them and that's pretty much how I've always been, so I don't respond to her. I nod to her politely and then I keep walking. My whole career as a Pro Hero has been silent. I do not talk to the press. I do not take off my face mask. I do not speak unless I am saving someone. Although, my reputation has always been that I am not rude or cold, I'm polite but I don't talk.
That's not all I have a reputation for though. A year ago, Rumi was out late having some innocent fun and playing a drinking game with strangers in a club. One of those people was a journalist and when Rumi let it slip that her "friend, Oleander" was gay, the press had a field day the following morning. I seem to remember going off on her for a few minutes through her, Keigo's, and my group chat, but then Keigo calmed me down and sent the text "no one will figure us out just from that." He hadn't realized that by sending it, not just to me, but to Rumi, someone had found us out.
Neither of us minded her knowing about it (after the initial fury from her had subsided) because we hadn't liked keeping it from her either. It had just been one of the extremes that we took to hide it from the nosy public.
The public that, if they find out I'm transgender, will surely be sent reeling. Half the people I know aren't open-minded enough to accept it, which is why I made sure that no one knew. I've kept up the secret for a long time and for a while I even tried to keep it from Rumi and Keigo. Keigo found out before Rumi did and had to convince me to tell her. It's not that I thought either of them would stop caring about me, I was just worried that they'd see me differently. Of course, they don't and they're incredibly understanding, but I still feel a little strange whenever something relating to it is brought up.
Right now, I'm seriously concerned that I might have bled through my hero suit. If I ever do come out to the public, and I want to eventually, I do not want it to be like this.
I continue to smile at the group of people that have gathered to see me, and I wave at a few kids, but I don't give autographs like I normally might. It's a strange thing to write my name down on a piece of paper to make people happy, but I'm willing to do that most of the time. At the moment though, anything that may require bending over is out of the question.
When I'm finally out of sight from the massive group, I dash into a convenience store and go straight to the Men's bathroom. I don't bother sitting down on the toilet first, I just pull down my black pants and my underwear. I haven't bled through my pants but I there is blood on the inside of them. That's dangerous territory.
I unzip one of the many pockets of my pants and reach in it to grab a pad. There is no pad. I panic and check every pocket but I don't find one. Finally, after just standing there for a moment, unsure of what to do, I take toilet paper and clean myself of blood as well as I can and drop it in the toilet. Then I fold up more toilet paper and set it in my underwear before pulling them up. I know that there's no point in trying to wipe the blood away from the inside of my pants, so I just pull up those too.
I flush before leaving the stall and washing my hands. I lean on the wall next to the mirror and take a deep breath to calm myself down. I'll have to go back home to get a pad and then I'll have to contact my agency to let them know that I can't finish patrol today. I'll call it a "personal issue" and leave it at that. It's none of their business.
It takes me ten minutes to get home and when I do, I slam the door behind me to relieve some of the stress that only seems to keep building. I close my eyes for a moment and rub my temples, thinking about what to do first.
"Aren't you working?" I look up and see Keigo in the kitchen. He's wearing an apron that says "Last time I cooked, hardly anyone got sick."
I was already reaching boiling point when I was in the middle of the fight and felt the blood with every step I took. I boiled over when I couldn't find any pads and when I realized that my suit needs to be washed before I can use it again. All the water from the boiling pot has evaporated and it took my composure with it.
I've gone to trouble to prevent Keigo from ever having to even know when I'm on my period. I keep the pads hidden away, I take medicine to make the cramps easier to handle, and I never complain. He didn't ask me to do those things, but I'm sure he would feel uncomfortable if I talked about it. Also, it was tough to move into the same place already, since we're both used to living on our own, and I didn't want to make it any more of a change for him.
Now, here I am, crying for no reason that he knows of, when I should be on patrol because I'm a Professional Hero, not a teenager.
Worry fills his eyes when tears fill mine and he sets down the bowl he'd been mixing to walk over to me. "What's wrong? Is it work? Are you okay?"
He moves to hug me and I let him but I don't say anything. After a moment he says, "I saw you on the news. It looked like you did a great job with the Chrysanthem."
He runs a hand through my hair and I bury my face in his shoulder. Normally, I don't break down at random or even at all, so he must know that something's really wrong. When I think about it, it seems silly to cry over this, but it's just so frustrating.
I let go of him and pull away. He smiles at me, looking unsure, and I smile a little back. "I'm okay, it's just been a difficult day. I'm taking the rest of the day off, so I'm gonna change. Or maybe shower."
He nods and I walk away, first into the bedroom to get clothes and then to the bathroom. There weren't any pads in my dresser drawer, so I must have moved them under the cupboard and forgotten. I strip off my clothes and hang up my shirt and binder. Then I take my underwear and pants into the shower with me.
It's a terribly cold shower, but from experience that's what I know to do with the stains. After I've rinsed them and tried to even rub some of it out, I hang them up and finish showering. When I get out of the shower, I dry off as quickly as possible and search under the cupboard for pads.
They're not there. I want to scream.
"Are you kidding me!" I yell in a whisper. I always order them so that no one can spot me buying them. That, or I take some from my agency, which is always wisely stocked just in case some of the women are in need while at work.
I can't go into my agency since I'm not wearing my hero suit anymore. It would be unprofessional and strange. The only option is to go out to buy them and I'll just say that they're for my sister. Besides, most people wouldn't automatically jump to the conclusion that I'm transgender. It wouldn't make sense if they did since I've always presented as a man. Every news anchor, every Hero, every fan, everyone knows I'm male.
I put toilet paper in my underwear again and get dressed. I take my pants and underwear and put them in the washing machine since they need to be ready tomorrow. When I walk into the living room and head toward the door, Keigo stops me.
"Where are you going?" He asks, looking worried again. "You just got home."
"I need something from the store, that's all." I tell him, avoiding his eyes and slipping on my shoes at the door.
"Enmei, I can grab something a lot faster. All you have to do is stir the sauce every now and then, I'll be back in five minutes." I know he's right, but I can't send him to pick up pads for me. If people saw him then journalists would be asking about it for weeks. They'd all assume he was dating someone.
I bite my lip. "No, I can do it. I don't mind."
He frowns at me. "Enmei, I'm worried. You got home crying, you took a 30 minute shower, and now you're leaving again."
"I'm fine, I just need something from the store." I'm getting annoyed and it's seeping into my voice, making me sound angry. He's making this more difficult than it needs to be.
"What do you need? Just let me get it, it'll make me feel better."
"Keigo, I'll be right back!" I snap at him and pull open the door roughly. I know I'm being mean and that he just doesn't understand, but I don't know what else to do.
Before I can even take a step out the door, he puts a hand on it and shuts it again. "You can't just yell at me and then leave." I can tell he's getting irritated but he keeps himself calm and his voice even. "You're the one who's so fond of saying 'communication'."
I shut my eyes and sigh. He's right, I used to say that all the time. It was a completely different scenario though. He would come home incredibly late and it would be technically morning,and he wouldn't go into the bedroom to sleep next to me because he didn't want to wake me up. I got mad at him for it because it meant we were never together. So we came up with a plan. I would wait for him in the living room so it wasn't as if he was waking me up by going to bed, and before we fell asleep we would talk about our days. Whenever I have late days, he does the same for me. It's not perfect, but it's communication and it works.
I suppose it's about time for us to have this talk. No matter how short it's going to be.
I close my eyes to make it a little easier for me. "Okay. Look, I hit my period while fighting the Chrysanthems and I'm completely out of pads. I need some so I'm going to go to the store and get them. Then I'm coming right back." I open my eyes, expecting him to look uncomfortable now, but he just nods.
"Cool, five minutes and I'll be back with pads." He tells me, seemingly much happier now that he knows the problem.
I blink at him and this time I'm the one who shuts the door before he can leave. "You can't do that."
"Why not?"
"I- well- reporters-"
"It'll be fine, they'll get over it or they'll get used to it and their stupid stories about why I'm getting them will be gone in a couple weeks."
"But you don't know what type I-"
"Babe," He smiles at me. "I'm smarter than that. It's a good idea to know what my boyfriend needs, so yeah, I do know what to get."
I stare at him. "Oh."
He tilts his head at me, still smiling softly. "Did you think I didn't care?"
"I just . . . I don't know." I say quietly.
"I'll be right back. Stir the sauce in a couple minutes but otherwise keep it covered." I move my hand away from the door and he opens it. "Love you."
Then he's gone. I walk over to the kitchen slowly and sit on the counter. "What just happened?" I ask myself.
After stirring the sauce I cover it back up and take out my phone. I open Rumi's contact in messages. 'I have the best boyfriend.'