Chapter Text
The evening had settled into the comfortable stretch Izuku Midoriya had come to love—the city winding down, soft yellow street lights flickering on one by one, the comm quiet in his ear.
He stood atop one of the many buildings, taking in the sky painted in deep reds, oranges and gold. He felt the wind gently blow the cape attached to his support gear as he looked on at the streets and buildings in front of him.
He had already handled two calls, both minor requests, and this was his last sweep before signing off for the day—more of a formality than anything else.
Somewhere below, something was cooking—warm and savory, carried up on the evening breeze—and his thoughts drifted easily toward the evening ahead. Ochako had mentioned a new restaurant that had opened near her apartment, something small, the kind of small venue with handwritten menus where they could slip in quietly without too much attention.
He was thinking about their upcoming evening—about her, if he was being honest with himself, when the comm in his ear crackled.
“Pro Hero Deku, we have a disturbance on Hana street. Minor quirk user, reports of civilians slipping on an unknown substance. Please proceed and report.”
“On it.” He replied, already jumping from the building and using his gear’s built-in whips to navigate to the reported location.
He picked up more details from his comm as he moved—frictionless surfaces, a figure in dark clothing seen running from a convenience store, one citizen down with a twisted ankle.
Izuku’s mind catalogued it quickly. Mobility quirk, probably contact-based, used for escape. It was probably a low level threat, however with the civilian injury, he needed to move quickly to avoid any other injuries.
The wind cut through his hair as he launched forward, the whips from his suit propelling him through the air with ease. His body moved naturally—as if they had always been a part of him.
As he got closer to the reported location, he eyed what he assumed was the unknown substance—some sort of clear, thick liquid— and landed on a section of empty sidewalk.
Deku started to run as the whips retracted back into his suit. He followed the trail and caught a glimpse of a dark figure cutting a corner ahead—slight build, something wrapped around the upper half of his face that may have been intended to look intimidating, however came off as he’d lost a fight with a scarf.
Izuku rounded the corner, ready to snap a whip forward to entrap the villain—
And nearly ran straight into the woman he was just thinking about.
Ochako was standing in the middle of the pavement, wearing a cream sweater and lilac pink long skirt, one arm raised, index finger pointed skyward with the casual precision of someone who had done this ten thousand times.
Above her, rotating slowly in the early evening air with the expression of a man who was rethinking every decision that led up to this moment, was the figure from the report.
Dark clothing. Improvised eye mask. Currently floating.
Izuku came to a stop, lowering his arm as a soft smile crossed his face.
Ochako glanced over her shoulder. She blinked—then smiled, the real one, the one that reached her eyes—and Izuku forgot, just for a moment, that he was supposed to be working.
“Oh—Deku! I take it you were chasing after this one?”
Izuku nodded. “Just got the call.” He chuckled. “Looks like you beat me to it.”
“He seemed fishy.” She said as if it explained everything. It did, really.
Izuku nodded before his attention turned back to the floating, obviously very flustered villain. “Is that— is that a mask?”
Ochako hummed. “I think it’s a dish towel.”
Up above them, the villain made a sound of profound indignation.
“It is a bandana,” he said, with as much dignity as a man rotating slowly four feet off the ground could manage. “It’s a very intimidating bandana.”
Izuku looked up at him properly for the first time. The villain—slight build, dark clothing, the bandana in question sitting slightly crooked above his nose —stared back down at him with the expression of someone who had rehearsed this moment very differently.
“…You’re Deku,” The villain stated slowly.
“I am,” Izuku nodded, “And you are?”
A beat. Something shifted in the villain’s expression when the name landed. Izuku couldn’t quite read it. It wasn’t fear exactly. It wasn’t anger. It looked almost like the specific disappointment of someone whose plan had not accounted for this particular outcome.
“…Slick,” he finally answered.
“I want it noted,” Slick continued, with the careful dignity of someone recalibrating on the fly, “that I was not caught. I’m—temporarily grounded. By circumstance.”
“You’re floating,” Ochako pointed out.
“I’m grounded with flair.”
Izuku pressed his lips together, though he wouldn’t be surprised if the humor of the situation showed through his eyes. Ochako kept her expression admirably neutral.
He tapped his comm, “This is Deku. The suspect, Slick, has been caught. Awaiting transport.”
“Okay, Slick.” Izuku said. “Transport is on its way. Shouldn’t be long.” He then turned back to Ochako like the matter was settled.
He watched as she relaxed her arm slightly, keeping him stable overhead without any apparent effort as his warm brown eyes focused on him. It struck him suddenly that this impromptu meeting might not be as much as a surprise for her as it was for him.
“You were already heading my way, weren’t you?”
Her eyes closed as she smiled. “You caught me. I was ready and figured I’d come see you at the end of your shift.” She shifted her foot as her eyes glanced down. “I know you still have to get ready, however I just wanted to spend more time with you.”
His heart warmed. He took in details now that he was no longer chasing a villain: the soft pink of her lip gloss, her eye lashes dark than usual, the evening’s deepening red-purple light doing her no disservice whatsoever.
She looked breathtaking. She was always beautiful—something he always noted from their academia days—but the fact she put the time into getting ready for their evening.
He was blessed.
“I—I’d like that. Very much.” He added. Gone are the days of subtlety. The war and Tenko taught him to live to the fullest, to do his best.
Something involuntary sounded. A cough. Izuku and Ochako both looked up again.
“She walked over to meet you,” Slick said, from above them, in the tone of a man processing something against his will. “She got ready and walked over to meet you. And then she caught me on the way.”
Nobody asked for his commentary. He offered it anyway.
Izuku instinctively rubbed the back of his head as he chuckled. “I know. She’s amazing. I’m the luckiest man in the world.”
Ochako‘s cheeks went pink. She looked away, the way she sometimes did when she didn’t quite know what to do with a compliment—like she was still figuring out how to just accept them.
He hoped, someday, she’d simply let herself believe it.
Slick was quiet for a moment.
“..She does look very nice for whatever you two are up to tonight,” he said eventually, almost to himself. “I’ll give you that.”
Ochako looked up at him. Something in her expression softened slightly, the way it did when she found something unexpectedly endearing.
“Thank you, Slick,” she said. She meant it.
Slick looked away, his cheeks that were visible under his mask reddened. “Don’t read into it.”
The transport arrived. Ochako lowered Slick to the ground, where the police handcuffed him. Izuku gave a brief summary of the incident, giving full credit to Uravity without hesitation.
“Thank you, Pro Heroes Uravity and Deku. We’ll take it from here.”
Izuku nodded, then looked to Slick one last time. “It was nice to meet you. I hope the next time we meet is in better circumstances.”
Slick only grumbled, glancing off to the side.
Izuku gave a slight wave with a smile and then took Ochako’s hand and walked off back towards his apartment. Ochako’s fingers wrapped around his glove, giving a light squeeze as she smiled up at him.
“I’m really looking forward to trying this new place,” she said, her eyes bright with excitement, “I heard they have some of the best mochi.”
Izuku smiled brightly down at her. “Then we’re definitely getting mochi!”
From the back of the transport, Slick watched them disappear around the corner—her hand in his glove, already talking about dessert, the evening ahead of them.
He’d had a plan this morning. A really good plan.
“Why did they have to be so cute?”
Nobody answered.