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Nemuri groaned as she rolled her chair towards Shouta’s cubicle. He kept his eye on the papers he was trying to grade, ignoring her obvious plea for attention.
She sighed loudly, leaning back dramatically. “Shouta…”
He let out a groan himself. It seemed grading was going to have to wait. “What.”
Now that she had his attention, she didn’t hesitate to scooch all the way into his space, crossing her legs and leaning forward in a pose that would tell any other teacher (if there had been any others in the prep room after hours like them) that she was in full gossip mode.
“You know Fukukado Emi, right?”
He closed his eyes, praying for patience. He knew exactly what this was about. “Unfortunately.”
“Do you know if she’s straight?”
He looked at her with a deadpan expression. “She proposes to me every time we meet.”
She huffed. “Yeah but she could be joking.” Suddenly, her head was in her hands. “That’s the problem, is everything she’s said to me a joke or not?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying you have a reason to believe she might like you?”
She took a large, preparatory breath. “Okay, let me walk you through every interaction we’ve ever had…”
“Nemuri, I have papers to grade.”
“Come on!” She bemoaned. “This is a romantic emergency! Remember when you used to come crying to me every week about how cute little Hizashi was? And how I coached you through coping with your crush? Don’t you feel grateful for my wisdom, and eager to pay it back?”
He glared at her. “Hizashi was doing the same thing to you, and you let us pine about each other for years while knowing we felt the same.”
At least she had enough shame to look to the side with a little pout. “To be fair, it was very entertaining.”
Shouta didn’t even respond to that, instead refocusing on the papers on his desk. Ashido Mina, Class 1-A. Alien to Ally: How rebranding extraterrestrials could-
“Shouta!” She whined. “I actually don’t know what to do!”
He took a deep breath. He supposed he did owe it to her, in a roundabout way. “Okay.”
Nemuri perked up immediately. “Really?”
“Really.” He would probably regret this, but he did have a tiny bit of curiosity as well. “Start from the beginning.”
“Well…”
“So far, so good,” Uwabami said, leaning against the wall of the warehouse to let all her snakes listen in, “They’re still negotiating.”
Nemuri nodded an acknowledgement.
They weren’t sure if they would be needed at all. Inside that building, two gangs with a tense history were about to attempt a peace treaty. There was a bloody history between them, which Ms. Joke had learned when she went undercover with one of the groups. When she learned they were going to meet to try to lay their animosity to rest once and for all, she had a feeling that the feud might be re-ignited… with deadly consequences for the members present for the negotiation.
It wasn’t the goal of her original undercover work, but when Ms. Joke realized there was a chance of new blood to be spilled, she decided it would be better for the pros to intervene before any of them could kill each other. They might be criminals, but she wouldn’t let them die.
Originally Ms. Joke had just called Uwabami in as emergency backup, when it seemed like it would just be the heads of the gang and a few trusted members meeting. Suddenly, though, the day of the meeting came and the gang Ms. Joke was in demanded a large number of members join, as if they were preparing for a full-scale battle. She suspected the other gang would likely prepare the same way. Though Ms. Joke could incapacitate up to a few people with her quirk, once she realized such a large group was going to be there, it was clear she needed more backup.
That’s when Uwabami called Nemuri, knowing her ability to neutralize large-scale fights was unparalleled. Nemuri happily agreed, a little curious to meet Ms. Joke as well. She’d heard a bit from Shouta about her obnoxiousness, but his threshold for annoyance was so low those comments didn’t mean much.
That was, of course, assuming Nemuri needed to intervene at all. If this negotiation actually panned out, Ms. Joke could continue her undercover work, and there would be no need for her to drop in.
Still, she had her eyes on the door she would break into if Uwabami gave the signal.
“Ooh~” Uwabami put a hand on her mouth, scandalized.
“What?” Nemuri asked urgently.
“Apparently one of them has a daughter that slept with someone from the other gang.”
“...Does that mean they’ll cooperate?”
Uwabami grimaced. “Sounds like he just got more angry. Apparently there was a devastating breakup, but- oh!”
Though the sound was faint through the walls, even Nemuri could hear the sudden and inappropriate laughter that suddenly appeared.
“Fuck, it went south,” Uwabami declared, “Get in there.”
She didn’t need to be told twice. Her strong legs easily kicked in the rickety door to the warehouse, and as she marched inside she tore the thin fabric of her costume.
Inside, she saw a chaotic scene, dozens of people with weapons and quirks bared, knives and bats and at least one person with an elephant trunk trying to strangle someone else. Though Nemuri had made a loud sound entering trying to draw their attention to her instead of continuing to fight each other, they were in such a ruckus that only a few had paused to look at their new guest.
Among the crowd, she saw a brown wig fly off of a woman brawling three guys at once, revealing distinct green hair underneath.
Before she got too distracted watching Ms. Joke knock down a guy twice her size, Nemuri pulled out her fans and took center stage. “Oh dear, looks like someone’s in need of some discipline.”
She projected the words, and this time the unfamiliar voice finally caught the attention of those still fighting, who looked on in confusion for a moment before recognition kicked in.
One guy turned on Ms. Joke, now looking obvious without her wig. “You, you tipped off the pros!” He exclaimed angrily.
Her smile never dropped. “Oopsie, did I forget to mention I’m a pro-hero too?”
Not exactly a joke, but he started laughing anyway, as did two people next to him. Still, there was another person behind her who tried to jump her, only to be grabbed and slammed on the ground.
Nemuri reminded herself not to ogle, and fanned her aroma throughout the room. Though a few people tried to barrel towards Nemuri, some cracks of her whip kept them too far to do her any damage, and they soon started dropping like flies.
Eventually, almost all of them were on the ground, and Nemuri went and approached Ms. Joke, who now had a chance to take a break from combat and catch her breath.
Ms. Joke looked her up and down with a smile. “Thanks for the save, you’re a total–” Her eyelids fluttered. “–knockout.”
Nemuri caught her before she could hit the ground. Her somnambulist might be quicker on men, but women weren’t immune.
By then, Uwabami deigned to enter, mask on, and police trailing behind her with masks of their own and handcuffs. “I called ‘em in,” She explained.
“Perfect,” Nemuri said, “In that case, I’m gonna take Ms. Joke here out for some air.”
Uwabami snorted when Ms. Joke let out a snore. “Have fun.”
Nemuri carried her outside, beelining to a small path of grass. There were no benches or anything, so she just laid Ms. Joke down. After a moment’s consideration, she took a seat as well and pulled Ms. Joke’s head onto her lap to make her a little more comfortable.
As she gazed down at her sleeping face, though, she seemed more than comfortable. Her mouth was wide open, a tiny bit of drool dripping down as she snored like a cartoon character. With nothing else to do, Nemuri examined her face. She’d seen Ms. Joke on television and in passing, always in costume, but never semi-casual in this undercover wear. She wasn’t even wearing her usual bandana, exposing some cute bangs.
Curious, Nemuri carefully brushed the bangs to the side, admiring her soft skin. Maybe she could ask for her skincare routine… And her hair was so soft, did she use some special kind of conditioner?
Before Nemuri could get too lost in that train of thought, the eyes below her slowly opened up. Nemuri froze at her gaze, feeling like she’d been caught in some way.
Ms. Joke’s smile was immediate. “Oh wow, did I die and go to heaven?”
Nemuri let out a held breath at the positive response. “If you’re seeing me, you’re definitely not in heaven.”
She was rewarded with Ms. Joke’s laughter. “If you weren’t there, I wouldn’t want to be.”
Though Nemuri wasn’t the type to fluster, the quick responses were a lot for even her to keep up with. Feeling a tiny bit like she was surrendering, she deflected, “The police are gathering up the criminals now.”
The focus back onto work made Ms. Joke sit up properly, making Nemuri’s thighs feel slightly colder in her absence. “Guess we gotta make a proper report to them, then!”
“...So?” Shouta asked.
“So what?” Nemuri returned.
“So Fukukado, the literal Ms. Joke, made a few jokes about how hot you, the literal hottest hero in Japan are. And now you’re…?”
He waved his hand up and down at Nemuri’s flustered state, having gotten progressively more worked up as the story continued. Seeing the R-Rated Hero blushing like a teenager with her first crush was certainly an unusual sight.
She put her fists on the table. “That’s not all! Do you remember Hizashi’s birthday party?”
He may have had a few drinks at that party. And promptly forgotten everything from his first drink to waking up with Hizashi covered in glitter beside him the next morning. “...What about it?”
The venue for Hizashi’s birthday party was a small bar, two tables reserved for the night to accommodate the many friends of his that would’ve been impossible to squeeze into his and Shouta’s little apartment.
Nemuri was well-familiarized with most of them. So she didn’t pay much attention each time the door opened, welcoming another UA staff member, and occasionally an errant coworker from Hizashi’s radio station.
That’s how she was blindsided when a woman with light green hair put an elbow on the bar next to her, getting close with a smirk. “Come here often?”
Nemuri chuckled at Ms. Joke. Was that her quirk, or was Nemuri just easily amused? Probably the latter, considering Nemuri was already three drinks in and had laughed at even Kurose’s puns earlier that evening. “Haven’t cum here yet, but I welcome the opportunity,” Nemuri said in an instinctive purr.
Ms. Joke stared a beat too long, and for a brief moment Nemuri thought she had gone too far. But when her grin widened into a laugh, it was clear nothing was too far for the queen of jokes. “You’re an absolute riot, Midnight.”
“Please, while we’re not working, it’s just Kayama.”
“Right back atcha, call me Fukukado then!”
She tried it out on her tongue. “Fukukado…”
Before she had a chance to use it properly, Fukukado was called elsewhere, Hizashi wrapping an arm around her and dragging her into some other conversation.
It wasn’t until another hour or so into the night, everyone suitably sloshed, that Nemuri ended up watching one of the silliest arguments of her life.
Fukukado got down on one knee in front of Shouta, sitting as stoically as ever in a bar stool beside Hizashi. She put a hand on her heart as she implored, “Darling! Now that you’re drunk, won’t you consider…”
“I’m not even drunk,” Shouta claimed, as he always did when drunk.
“...finally letting me put a ring on your finger?”
Though the proposal was clearly a joke, Hizashi was affronted. He grabbed Shouta’s waist, pulling him close and away from the would-be homewrecking comedian. “I can’t believe you, Fukukado! On my birthday?”
Fukukado smirked at his jealousy. “Oh? You wouldn’t be so worried if you were secure in your relationship. Which means I have a chance!” She stood up, putting a hand on the bar behind Aizawa to box him in a bit. “Tell me, honey, is he not treating you right? I would treat you like a king, so won’t you consider me?”
“He won’t!” Hizashi screeched, pulling Shouta out of his stool and into his arms, with absolutely no resistance from the man in question. “Shou likes me.”
Nemuri couldn’t help but shake her head at Hizashi’s antics. She wondered sometimes whether Shouta ever got tired of his energy, but one glance showed him easily nestling into Hizashi’s arms, content to let Hizashi fight his battle for him while he yawned in the comfortable embrace.
“Oh yeah?” Fukukado challenged, absolutely living for this argument, “What can you give him that I can’t?”
“I’ve known him way longer!”
“It’s about quality of time, not quantity.”
Hizashi scoffed. “Well he likes tall partners.” He turned his nose up, looking down at Fukukado.
“I’m above average height for a woman!” Fukukado declared. “Aizawa, stand up and we’ll check our compatibility.”
Shouta stared, not moving a single inch out of Hizashi’s arms to allow her any leverage.
Fukukado pouted, and her eyes started searching around the bar. “Well then…”
Her eyes landed on Nemuri, and Nemuri almost startled at being acknowledged by the group she had been watching as a spectator. She was only further surprised when Fukukado grabbed her by the arm, dragging her to the center of the argument.
“Kayama is pretty tall, so…”
Shouta glared. “Not as tall as me.”
Nemuri smirked. This was an old argument among them, and she knew exactly how their heights differed by now. “Think again, I’m wearing heels tonight.”
Fukukado patted her back, like a farmer slapping a prize-winning pumpkin. “Perfect! So if Aizawa is about this height, I’m pretty sure…”
She slid her arm around Kayama’s waist, bringing their sides flush together.
“You know Aizawa, wouldn’t it be fun to have a shorter partner, who could look up at you like this?” She batted her eyelashes at Nemuri. “Isn’t this a cute angle?”
Despite being fresh off a drink, Nemuri’s mouth felt dry. “Very cute. You’re missing out, Shouta,” She responded, instinctively going to tease Shouta as well rather than focus on how Fukukado's eyes seemed to sparkle even in the low light of the bar.
Fukukado giggled, the shaking causing her hand to lightly squeeze Nemuri’s waist.
“Well you’re still so short you’d have trouble kissing him!” Hizashi declared. “He and I are at a perfectly compatible height that you could never compete with!”
To demonstrate, Hizashi turned Shouta around just enough to plant a quick peck against his lips. Shouta closed his eyes for the kiss, but when they parted he didn’t bother to open them again, just leaning against Hizashi’s shoulder as Hizashi looked smugly towards Fukukado.
Fukukado wagged a finger. “That’s not true! A height difference is totally cute and provides a whole new sexy angle for a kiss, right Kayama?”
Though that last part was directed towards Nemuri, Fukukado didn’t seem to expect a verbal response. Instead, she slipped a hand to Nemuri’s cheek, both caressing and guiding it slightly downwards, encouraging her to look down. Though Nemuri’s reflexes were slowed with alcohol, her brain caught up to Fukukado’s intent when her face started to approach, eyes locked with an intensity that left her unable to look away.
Nemuri held her breath; was Fukukado really going to go for this right now? In front of their friends and coworkers?
Well, if Fukukado was really interested in demonstrating how sexy a height-difference kiss could be… Kayama let her eyes flutter closed, leaning down just a smidgen to allow better access. She waited one, two seconds…
But instead of a soft press of lips, she got a hand grabbing her chin with triumph. “See that, Hizashi? I could totally kiss Aizawa at this height if I wanted to!”
Her eyes snapped open to the sight of Fukukado not even looking at her, and her cheeks flared. Obviously her acquaintance wasn’t going to actually make out with her in the middle of this bar, this was just for physical demonstration purposes.
So she slipped out of Fukukado’s awkward side embrace. “I gotta… another drink.”
Luckily Fukukado was so engrossed in the argument that she didn’t question Nemuri’s flustered expression or her wobbly steps back to the bar. She landed against the bar, practically deflating against the countertop.
The poor bartender approached her hesitantly. “Can I get you anything?”
She took a deep breath and sat up. “I have a very special custom mix. Could you mix up some orange juice, gin, cider, a squeeze of lemon, honey…”
This was all Hizashi’s fault. Probably. She’d give him her most special concoction to thank him for the embarrassment she’d just experienced. And maybe toss a glitter bomb on him. As a ‘gift’.
“Wait, Hizashi did what in public?”
Nemuri shrugged. “I mean it was in a private bar, and almost everyone was sloshed, you included.”
Shouta sighed, pinching his eyebrows. “I need to have a talk with him about what he can and can’t do in front of our coworkers…”
“This isn’t about you and your secure romance, Hizashi’s antics aside!” Nemuri slapped his desk. “Didn’t you hear what I said about my near-kiss with Fukukado?”
“Yeah, boohoo she pretended she was going to kiss you but didn’t. And you’re so frazzled because…?”
“You don’t understand! You didn’t see her from my position, being all cute and blinking up at you, like such a…” Nemuri trailed off, distant look in her eyes at the memory.
“I didn’t know you were vulnerable to such basic flirts,” Shouta commented, starting to stack the essays he was meant to grade.
There was no way he was going to be able to grade them in the teacher’s lounge with Nemuri demanding his attention.
Right on cue, the door opened and Hizashi waltzed in. “Shoutaaa you ready to get outta here?”
Before Shouta could escape with him, Nemuri grabbed the labels of his leather jacket. “Hizashi! You gotta hear this, Shouta is completely heartless to my plight!”
Hizashi looked between them, glancing down at the student papers Shouta was now slipping into his bag to take home. “Ah, I see he didn’t get the grading he was planning to get done.”
“Grading, schmading. They’re good kids, give them all A’s!” Nemuri said, “I am in crisis!”
“Whoa whoa there.” Hizashi slowly pried her off of his lapels. “Where’s the fire?”
With the promise of a slightly more sympathetic audience, Nemuri dramatically collapsed back into her chair. “The fire is in my heart, it burns for Fukukado, but I can’t tell for the life of me whether she likes me back!”
Hizashi’s brow furrowed. “Like… Fukukado as in Ms. Joke? The temptress who keeps trying to steal away my Shouta?”
Shouta was all packed up now, so he grabbed Hizashi’s arm. “That’s the one. Let’s head home.”
“Whaaaat but Nem is-”
“She’ll cope, you promised we’d go home together,” Shouta said firmly.
At least Nemuri had the decency to only sigh despondently, rather than grab Hizashi and delay Shouta’s escape any further. Apparently that was enough peace for Hizashi, who obliged him and started to leave as well. “Well, best of luck Nem! Wishing you two the best, especially if you can get her off Shouta’s back!”
Nemuri groaned something incoherent as the door swung shut behind them.
As they walked out of the school, Hizashi remained concerned. “Oh dear, I haven’t seen her like that in a long time.”
“Boohoo.”
“Aw, come on Shou, don’t you feel a little sad seeing her lovesick? I didn’t even know she thought of Fukukado that way.”
“It’s a somewhat recent development, based on what she’s told me.”
“I can see why she’s struggling though, a gal like Fukukado…” Hizashi shook his head. “I don’t know if she’s ever had a serious thought in her life. Hard to tell if Nemuri actually has a chance with her or not. Do you think it’ll work out?”
Shouta rolled his eyes. “Oh I know it’ll work out.”
Hizashi side-eyed him. “...You know?”
Though Shouta hesitated for a moment, he decided that if there was anyone who he could spill the beans to about this, it would be Hizashi. Silently, he pulled out his phone, clicked on a text conversation, and held it out for Hizashi to read.
[Joking Pest]
Ajldfshiohf did you see her outfit at ur mans party????
My jaw dropped and bounced on the floor
I ascended to another plane of being
How does she like OWN every space she walks into???
AIZAWA plz respond im dying here she was so hot
[Me]
k
[Joking Pest]
NOT HELPFUL
omfggg she’s like a QUEEN since when do queens go for court jesters???
PLEASE AIZAWA can u ask her if she has a clown kink???
[Me]
no
Hizashi stopped walking when he finished reading the conversation. Slowly, he looked up at Shouta. “Wait, so Fukukado…”
“Head over heels,” Shouta affirmed.
“But Nem just…” He scratched his head. “She’s also head over heels. So shouldn’t you like…. Tell them?”
Shouta allowed himself the tiniest smirk. “No.”
Hizashi guffawed. “Shou, they’re dying, if they don’t get pushed together soon, I think one of them is gonna combust!”
He took a deep breath, then put a hand on Hizashi’s shoulder. “Hizashi. Do you remember high school?”
“Of course, but why…?”
“Do you remember how it took us three years to get together?”
He laughed. “Oh, awkward days. Very cute, though.”
His grip tightened. “And how during those three years, both of us were consulting with Nemuri on the side about our ‘impossible’ crushes? And how she listened to us pine every single day while letting us stumble around each other cluelessly? Remember that?”
Understanding dawned on Hizashi’s face. “I mean-... it would have been nice to know a little earlier, but-”
“Three years, Hizashi,” Shouta repeated through a grimace.
“Okay, okay!” He waved his hands.
Satisfied with his point, Shouta started them walking again. Hizashi jogged to catch up to him.
“Wait, Shou, we can’t actually leave them forever.”
“Watch me.”
“No, look–” Hizashi spun him around, forcing him to look into his eyes. “–I’ve got a plan. We won’t tell them, but let’s turn up the pressure. Give them some more chances to trip over themselves.”
Shouta mulled that over. It could be fun to see them flounder even further. “I’m listening.”
“We need to get the two of them in the same room again, and I know just the event to do so.”
Nemuri strutted down the street to Ishiyama’s house, long coat keeping her outfit hidden from curious civilians. He was kind enough to host the annual UA faculty Halloween party this year, and she was excited to see how cement-controlling hero likely transformed his house for maximum spookiness.
Her heels clicked on the stone steps up to the front door, and she didn’t even bother to knock. Instead, she pushed the door open, pulling open her coat almost immediately to show off her red, skin-tight costume.
Sadly there were only a few people by the door, the rest apparently off in a main room. Still, Ishiyama, painted yellow and wearing a nice outfit with a red tie, smiled when he saw her. “Welcome, Kayama! I see you’ve gone with a devil for your costume.”
She grinned, one hand on her hips while the other tapped the horns on her headband. “Lovely, isn’t it? Even Shouta thinks it’s hot.”
His eyebrows raised. “He said that?”
“Crazy, right?” She squealed, “Normally when I ask him for outfit opinions, he says everything is equally ‘fine’, but this time he said it was the ‘most appealing’ option!”
It really was strange. She normally forced Shouta on a video call to talk about her outfit choices in order to mostly talk out loud to herself with an audience, but he had offered an actual opinion for once… so of course she had to go for it.
Ishiyama tilted his head, perplexed. “Huh…”
After that, Ishiyama led her into the main room, with walls craggy and uneven like a dark cave. Fake stalagmites hung from the ceiling, and made the perfect hooks for the string lights around the room. Her eyes also jumped to the drinks table with a huge bowl of a deep red, blood-like juice.
“Ooh, looks good in here,” She complimented Ishiyama.
He grinned at that, almost blushing, but the doorbell rang before he could say anything else, and he was off to welcome more guests.
Nemuri let him go and strutted over to the punch, licking her lips in anticipation. When she poured herself a cup (in a plastic goblet, of all the delightfully thematic things…) she experimentally sniffed it and then took a sip.
Just tasted like regular punch. Not spiked then, she thought with a sigh.
“Looking awfully gloomy for a party!” Hizashi’s voice beside her snapped her out of the thought.
She grinned at him, finely-dressed with a cape draped around his shoulders and red lipstick dripping along the side of his mouth. Beside him, Shouta was dressed in his hero costume. “I see you’ve gone for a vampire, Hizashi, but Shouta could have at least made an effort.”
Shouta raised a hand and pulled part of his scarf slightly over his face. “I’m a mummy.”
Nemuri rolled her eyes. Before she could tease him any further, someone spoke from behind her. “Aizawa~!”
Fukukado’s voice had Nemuri immediately straightening up, glancing down to make sure she was looking hot and hadn’t spilled any punch on herself.
But Fukukado wasn’t looking at her, instead she was approaching Aizawa with a grin. “Thanks for inviting me!”
Nemuri looked her up and down, mouth going dry. The skirt of her white dress was fluffy, bouncing with her steps, and a sweetheart neckline at Nemuri’s high angle allowed her to look right down at a tempting peek of cleavage. The dress was backed with a pair of wings, and a headband on top held up a little halo that swung as Fukukado turned to look at Nemuri. “And look at you! Looking hot as hell itself!”
Fukukado was an angel, and Nemuri was a devil. Was this fate?
She forced herself to speak, “Well aren’t you the sweetest little angel?”
“You’re being awfully kind for someone from hell,” Fukukado teased.
Two could play at that game. If Fukukado was going to keep playing with her, Nemuri would return in full-force until she backed off or gave in. She put down her cup, then gently held Fukukado’s chin, thumb resting on the top, and tilted her up. “How else am I supposed to tempt innocent creatures like you?”
There was a moment where Fukukado’s breath hitched, but then she put a wrist delicately on her forehead, slightly obscuring her expression, and abruptly declared, “Catch me, I’m swooning!”
Dramatically, she fell backwards, and Hizashi scrambled to catch her before she fell. It was only when Hizashi’s arms shook holding up Fukukado’s almost-horizontal weight that Shouta deigned to join in and shove her back up.
By the time she was back upright, Fukukado was laughing. “You really know how to sell your costume,” she complimented, then turned back to the couple so Nemuri couldn’t see her face.
Always jokes, always deflection, never confirmation. Nemuri really was in hell.
“What about you?” Fukukado spoke to Shouta, sidling up to him, “Won’t you compliment me as well? After I got all dressed up for you?”
“It was only a suggestion. You were free to take it or leave it.”
“What did you expect me to do when the love of my life said ‘I think angel costumes are pretty cute’?” Fukukado glanced towards Hizashi. “Seems sad that Yamada, who supposedly loves you, isn’t dressed as one, or…” She smirked up at him. “Was this a secret you only told me?”
Though Hizashi wasn’t quite as aggressively jealous when sober, he still stepped up to squeeze between Fukukado and Shouta. “I’ll have you know my Shouta actually has a vampire k-”
He choked a moment, and behind him Shouta’s eyes were glowing red, hair raising in a way that made clear he had silenced Hizashi with his quirk. “Hizashi.”
The quirk released, and Hizashi looked back at him with a pout. “She started it.”
Shouta grabbed his hand and started to tug him away. “We should talk.” He glanced at Fukukado, who was also starting to step forward. “Alone.”
Fukukado was undeterred, waving her hands animatedly as she pleaded, “Come on, I’m part of this-”
Shouta turned to Nemuri. “Hold her back.”
She didn’t need to be told twice to get her hands on Fukukado. She went for a basic hold with her elbows under Fukukado’s shoulders, forearms up to keep her held back. Though Fukukado flailed instinctively, the others were able to escape through a doorway to who-knows-where.
“Aww come on! Let me at ‘em!” Fukukado whined with comical swings of her arms, “I’ll lighten up their mood!”
“I don’t think they need a jester for their lover’s spat,” Nemuri teased.
Fukukado stopped flailing with a sigh. “Okay, okay, I’ll behave.”
Instead of letting go, Nemuri decided to try her luck. She squeezed her shoulder a little tighter, and purred in her ear. “You promise you’ll be a good girl?”
Fukukado stiffened, then laughed, pointing towards her own halo. “I am the definition of a good girl right now.”
Nemuri had mercy and let go of her. Normally when she used that line, she got a properly breathless ‘Yes ma’am’, so it was disheartening to hear Fukukado deflect it as smoothly as she dodged every other flirt. Had Nemuri lost her touch?
She sighed, picking up her little plastic goblet of punch again to swirl absentmindedly. Or what if Emi was legitimately just not at all interested? And Nemuri was just making a fool of herself trying to flirt?
Thankfully a few other teachers stopped by to say hello, distracting her from her own embarrassment. She even leaned forward and dropped a double-entendre to Maijima of all people, just to make sure the support-course teacher would blush and stutter. He did.
Hmm, so she still had game. Did Fukukado just not want to play?
She glanced sideways at Fukukado, who was now thoroughly occupied re-enacting some sort of odd skit with Ishiyama involving a ‘Hash-slinging-slasher’, whatever that was. She was laughing, Ishiyama doing the same, probably without help from her quirk.
Fukukado was just messing around. Having fun. Nemuri tore her eyes away. Better not to think about fruitless opportunities. There were plenty of people at this party who she could probably persuade to come home with her if she really wanted, no sense in obsessing over the one person who just wanted to make a joke out of her.
Now Nemuri regretted not sneaking a flask into the venue. The punch was much too sweet for her mood.
It didn’t help when Fukukado tapped Nemuri’s arm, looking to catch her attention. Nemuri turned to her immediately, perking up with hope at the attention until Fukukado opened her mouth, “Have you seen Aizawa and Yamada?”
Aizawa, Aizawa, Aizawa. Nemuri thought that was a joke too, but what if it wasn’t? What if every fond moment they’d shared together was just part of Fukukado’s ploy to embed herself into Shouta’s life?
But Nemuri was not in the habit of letting bitterness show, so she smiled at her. “Not since they went off to talk.”
Fukukado was still smiling, but there was a tenseness to her eyebrows. “Oh! It’s been… awhile since then.”
Nemuri sipped her drink carefully, eyes not leaving Fukukado’s face. “Could be sneaking some apology sex in a backroom.”
That elicited a laugh, but she recovered from her amusement fast. “Okay, yeah, but seriously… If I actually caused a fight, that’s kinda…”
Fukukado trailed off, like she didn’t know how to articulate anything remotely negative, and Nemuri took a long sip of punch. The silence grew awkward, and Fukukado started to turn away. “You’re right, they’re probably more than fine…”
An idea came fast, and Nemuri snatched Fukukado’s shoulder to stop her from escaping too fast. “Want to go check on them?”
Fukukado blinked at her. Once, twice, then smiled. “You’re right! No sense leaving them to mope alone when I could lighten the mood!”
“Come on, I think they went this way…”
Nemuri started down some hallway. She’d been to Ishiyama’s house before, but each time she came it was arranged in a new way, so it’s not like she really knew where she was going. Still, she vaguely recalled Shouta and Hizashi stalking off in this direction, and she didn’t really care about finding them so much as she cared about getting alone with Fukukado.
Because from the way she spoke, it seemed like Fukukado wasn’t really looking to break up Shouta and Hizashi. Of course, maybe it was just that she would be okay with sharing, but Nemuri wasn’t convinced that Fukukado was truly interested beyond a skit.
Was there anyone she was interested in?
Nemuri wanted to find out without an audience watching them.
“Oh wow, I didn’t realize Cementoss gardened!” Fukukado exclaimed.
They had ended up out a backdoor and discovered a well-tended garden. “Better not mess it up, it’s one of the few things here he can’t fix or remake with his quirk.”
Fukukado nodded, eyes roving the various trees, topiaries, flowers, and brush densely decorating a path. Still, she didn’t approach, remaining on the stoop of a small back porch. “I don’t see them…”
She turned to go back inside, but Nemuri took a decisive seat on the steps. “I’m tired of searching, want to take a break?”
Fukukado hovered. “I didn’t realize that your stamina was so low, Kayama! If you want to take a break, go ahead, but I really should find the boys…”
“What?” Nemuri licked her lips, while tapping a single sharp finger against them. “You scared to be alone with a devil?”
The challenge made Fukukado thankfully sit down, but she didn’t fluster as intended. Instead she kept her eyes on the garden, the gentle leaves hanging down to frame the scene. “I guess a break wouldn’t kill us!”
Nemuri smirked and scooted a centimeter closer. She was going to get Fukukado to either confess or finally, clearly reject her before this night was over.
“I especially like the roses he’s grown,” Nemuri commented.
“Roses?” Fukukado squinted. “Where?”
Just as planned; Nemuri knew the roses were far in the back and practically invisible if someone wasn’t already familiar with the garden. She scooted even closer to Fukukado, bringing them cheek to cheek so she could point at it from her angle. “See right there? It’s behind that bush, a little hard to see in the dark.”
Fukukado leaned far forward, escaping the proximity of their faces, but she kept their hips pressed together. “Huh, good eye! I can’t really tell.”
“I like to think I have a good eye for things,” Nemuri commented, looking at Fukukado’s soft-looking hair falling down her back.
Fukukado turned around with a smirk. “Clearly.”
The glow of the porch light was enough for Nemuri to take in Fukukado’s face. Was that smirk because she knew Nemuri was pining for her? Was she messing around with her? Or was it something else entirely?
If Fukukado wouldn’t push her away, she would press on ahead. “You’ve got pretty eyes yourself,” Nemuri purred, barely caring that it didn’t quite fit the conversation.
“Flattery won’t get you anywhere,” Fukukado said with a giggle.
Nemuri leaned in close again. “Nowhere at all?”
Fukukado’s hand was on her own lap, not too far from Nemuri’s. “You’re-”
Nemuri put her hand over hers. There was a hitch in her breath, and Nemuri hoped it meant what she hoped.
But then Fukukado twisted their hands, bringing them up and chucking as she stuck her thumb up from the link. “Tryna start a thumb war with me?”
This was getting absurd. “Fukukado…”
Her eyes were on their hands, and her thumb started bouncing around. “One, two, three, four, I declare a thumb war-”
“Fukukado.”
“Five, six, seven, eight-”
How the hell was Nemuri supposed to set a mood like this? She had no clue if Fukukado was truly dense, or trying to turn her down without actually turning her down. Frustrated, she twisted their hands again, pulling Fukukado’s up and back behind Nemuri’s shoulder, bringing the rest of her body closer, face ending up terribly close to hers. “I’m trying to flirt with you,” Nemuri confessed, not seeing any other option than spelling it out and confronting it.
Fukukado didn’t move for a moment, and her smile was stiff. “I know.”
Ah.
That was her answer then, Fukukado had been trying to gently ease them away from the mood with jokes, not wanting to reject Nemuri directly. With a sigh, Nemuri let go of Fukukado’s hand, letting her lean back and away so their faces weren’t so close.
“You’re the R-rated hero,” Fukukado added, starting to turn away towards the garden again, “of course you’d flirt.”
Something about that phrasing had Nemuri suspicious. Despite the rejection, Fukukado hadn’t actually moved away from her fully, still seated directly next to her. “...What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You dominate every room you walk into. Whoever you go after, you can turn them into a mess. Hey, have you ever flirted with Nedzu? I wanna know if he blushes under that fur.”
Fukukado was still looking at the garden, avoiding Nemuri’s gaze. “I haven’t.”
“Ectoplasm? I bet if you got him hot and bothered enough, he’d literally melt.” She laughed.
Nemuri wasn’t as amused. She grabbed Fukukado’s shoulder, “Could you be serious for like, one minute?”
The shock on Fukukado’s face made her realize how whiny that voice had sounded.
She coughed before continuing. “You keep making these ribs, pretending things, getting close and then pulling back with a laugh…” Despite her best attempts, she still sounded pouty. “I’ve been trying to get closer to you, but am I just a joke to you?”
“I’m the joke.”
Suddenly, Nemuri’s abdomen was convulsing, and she couldn’t hold back from laughing. What Fukukado had said wasn’t funny at all, but her body was responding anyway.
Ms. Joke’s quirk, obviously.
The force of it made her eyes squeeze shut, sounds of her laughter echoing into the night. She held onto herself, riding the wave of it, trying to compose herself, but struggling with the quirk making her feel like there was something hilarious going on.
Eventually, she regained enough self control to open her eyes, immediately searching for Fukukado. She had gotten up, a few steps away, hand out to brush against a hanging branch from the garden. Nemuri couldn’t see her face at this angle, but her ears were bright red.
“You’re like, the hottest hero,” Fukukado said, voice off despite attempted cheer, “everyone wants you. You’re indulgent, you indulge even my silly skits, even though I’m just a…”
Nemuri got up.
“I’m just another one of your many, many admirers, I guess. I know I’ve been pushy or dramatic, sometimes, but I’m not delusional. It’s fun, and I’m not exactly getting flirted back with by Aizawa, so of course I like when you play with me. But don’t worry!” She turned abruptly, smiling so wide her eyes were squinting. “I know to someone like you, that sort of thing is just like, a normal tuesday, I’m not trying to assume you’d actually-”
She suddenly seemed to register that Nemuri was right there, having approached, and was barely a step away. “What if I don’t indulge everyone?”
Fukukado paused. Swallowed. Opened her mouth again. “Then you’ve been very kind to me.”
“And why do you think I’ve been so kind to you?”
“...Because I’m Aizawa’s friend?”
“You know he would never admit you guys are friends.”
Fukukado seemed relieved to have an excuse to laugh. “That’s probably true.”
“Which means I have another reason that I’m flirting with you,” Nemuri murmured, reaching out to touch Fukuado’s cheek.
Her pupils were practically vibrating, darting around Nemuri’s face, attempting to read it. “O-oh. Like, I amuse you?”
“Mm,” Nemuri agreed easily, but added, “Like I like you.”
Something snapped, and before she knew it Fukuado’s lips were on hers. She surged forward with such force that Nemuri had to take a step back from the momentum, Fukukado only still attached because her arm and legs were suddenly wrapped around her.
Catching up to the situation, Nemuri grabbed Fukukado by the hips and slowly stepped back. As delightful as it was to have her in her arms, she didn’t want to focus on not dropping her as they kissed, so Nemuri slowly took a seat on the porch steps.
Fukukado stayed on her, sitting on her lap now, grabbing at Nemuri’s face and keeping her close as she explored her lips. Nemuri returned the attention in full now, enjoying the softness of her. The desperate little presses, wet licks that led to opening mouths and a thorough exploration.
When Fukukado finally needed to take a break, she stayed right there, just tilting so their foreheads were pressed together instead of their lips. Nemuri delighted in her flustered expression, no longer smiling like everything was a joke, but mouth open and eyes lidded in a disbelieving haze. “Y-you really like me?”
“Yes,” Nemuri reassured, feeling much more confident with this recent turn of events, “You like me too, then?”
Fukukado groaned. “Wasn’t that obvious?”
“No, honestly. Who could have guessed that the joke hero was being serious for once?”
She chuckled. “I can’t believe it took us this long to figure things out.”
Nemuri was feeling warm and relieved with her requited crush happily settled on her lap, a hand interlocking with one of hers fondly. “I know, I’ve been torturing Shouta for awhile about this.”
Fukukado, who had been practically melting in her arms, suddenly went stiff. “You’ve been telling him…?”
“About my huge crush on you,” Nemuri explained, “is that alright?”
“It’s fine, it’s just…” Something suspicious entered her voice, “I’ve also been bugging him for months about my crush on you.”
It took a moment for Nemuri to process, but once she did there was a numb shock. She was going to have some words with Shouta after this. “...Ah.”
As soon as they spotted Shouta, back at the party with Hizashi, they marched over. He took one glance at them, eyes darting down to their linked hands, and raised a single eyebrow.
“Did you guys finally figure it out?” He had the audacity to ask.
Next to him, there were several other heroes eyeing the two of them. Nemuri ignored them to point an accusatory finger towards Shouta. “We figured out that you’ve been scheming!”
Hizashi’s eyes darted between them, lips tight like he was holding back. Nemuri noted his behavior with a raised brow; had he been in on it?
Shouta sipped at his punch. “Oh?”
“Don’t oh me, young man!” Nemuri said, straightening up her back to reach his full height in her heels, “Fukukado and I have been exchanging notes and are well aware of your little prank on us!”
There was a smile, a rare sight from Shouta. “To be fair, it was very entertaining.”
Her own words turned against her. “Why I oughta–”
Luckily Fukukado held her back with their locked hands, so Nemuri had an excuse to not whip him into shape right there in the middle of the party. She backed up with an offended huff, putting her other hand on her hip and looking away. He was lucky Fukukado would rather have a laugh about the whole situation than take full revenge.
Hizashi let out a sigh of relief. “At least I don’t have to worry about you flirting with Shouta anymore.”
Fukukado had a sly look in her eyes. She glanced towards Nemuri, and after Nemuri nodded she began to whine, “Well honestly, the fact that Aizawa knew that we were both in love and yet didn’t tell us… I have to believe there was a reason!” She let go of Nemuri then, basically jumping between Shouta and Hizashi to block the two from each other as she mooned up at Shouta. “Aizawa, darling, did you not want Kayama to take me away so we could still have a chance together?”
The tease had Hizashi shoving in between them to retake his place at Shouta’s side. “Nuh-uh! Don’t you start this again!” He turned to Nemuri. “Come on, hold back your girl from flirting with others!”
Nemuri chuckled, she understood why Fukukado had such fun teasing them when Hizashi always had such a distraught reaction. “Oh but I adore her so much I wouldn’t want to keep her away from what makes her happy, and I’m happy to share. Guess you’ll just have to keep a close eye on your man, Hizashi.”
“You’re kidding…” His expression said he was not looking forward to it.
Though it wasn’t as great revenge as she would have liked, Nemuri let the party close out on good terms. After all, she at least had Fukukado at her side now, the air and feelings cleared between them. Though Shouta may have been keeping secrets from the both of them… she couldn’t deny that he had helped perhaps a little bit tonight, tricking them into those paired costumes.
She supposed if Shouta could forgive her for keeping Hizashi’s crush on him secret for years, she could forgive him for this much. It helped that Fukukado was willing to laugh it off as well, and Nemuri had a feeling she was going to be weak to that laugh for years to come.