Chapter Text
If she’s asked, Mina can pinpoint the beginning of her troubles in exactly one place like a neon green sticky note on a cork board with red strings.
12:01am, Shizuoka, on a Saturday night, at a trodden club blaring cringe pop music. Looking back, she would describe it at somewhat of a perfect storm. Throngs of people poured in, out, and around the area. A sticky not-quite-summer-not-quite-fall afternoon invited mixed attire, with most dressed casually, save for a few foreigners. The air was thick with heady agitation, with most groups concentrated by the mahogany tables closest to the speakers.
Generously speaking, the music was horrible and deafening. The rumble of the bass settled uncomfortably underneath her skin, ringing in her ears and nestling inside her chest.
However loud, it wasn’t enough to drown out Kaminari's drunken ramblings, or Kirishima’s enthusiastic cheers, or Bakugou’s pointed grumbling. It did the job for now. Mina grinned as she pumped her fists to match Kirishima’s energetic tempo, laughing loudly as the music blared from a speaker adjacent to the bar in the dim room. Another track from some alternative electro-pop of the same artist cued, prompting several cheers from onlookers.
“Man, I love this song!” He yelled, tossing his head and belting the lyrics loudly off key.
“You’ve said that for the past three,” Mina said teasingly, still swaying to match him nonetheless, shifting with the beat and screaming the lyrics to some cheesy pop song along with him, both of them pointedly ignoring Bakugou’s aimed grumblings about ‘embarrassing-drunk-losers-with -shit-music-taste-that-are-walking-home’. Kirishima rolled his eyes fondly, blowing a kiss in his direction and ignoring the middle finger he received in response.
The outing had been his idea, (heavily championed by Kaminari), as a way to relieve stress from their first month as Pros littered with grueling schedules and intensive patrols. Hero work, Mina had found, was just as demanding as she’d have thought, and it was only a nod to her previous Yuuei class rigor that she was able to possess even a modicum of her sanity through the duress of these first weeks. The first of many, she reminded herself, and not for the first time. Making a name for yourself as a rookie was taxing work, but everyone knew these first few months were crucial for establishing a good one. Even for top ranked heroes, the formula to the top was all the same: stats, contribution, image, and ability, doused with a healthy coating of luck.
While she could appreciate her school for equipping her for the practical components of hero work, no amount of Hero Basics 101 taught by a half-asleep Aizawa had adequately prepared her for just how much work was done behind the scenes, especially in the day-to-day of a rookie. Countless meetings (PR, tactical), hero galas, with agency events eating away at the few hours not spent on patrol or briefings.
She mentally reviewed the list of things to do when she hit the streets for patrol. Instantly, her mood soured. She chided her traitorous brain. She wouldn’t have any fun if she kept thinking about work on a rare day off.
It was then that Sero and Jirou materialized, both nursing identical shot glasses filled to the brim with dark amber liquid. Their serene presentation served as a laughable contrast to Kaminar’s drunken disheveledness; he’d been attempting to stand on his own for the past 5 minutes, much to the chagrin of an irate Bakugou.
“First Pros as months! Hell yeah, baby!” Kaminari whooped, before tripping over nothing then promptly falling on his ass three feet away. Sero snorted into his drink.
“That one brain cell’s taking an off day with you, huh?” Jirou asked dryly, mercifully offering him a hand up and depositing him in a chair in a heap of limbs right next to Bakugou, who was anything but pleased at this arrangement.
“Say cheese, bro!” A series of shutter noises followed as Kirishima captured the sight in front of him: Bakugou, stoic as ever, restraining a very drunk Kaminari from falling over in his seat.
“Okay, now one with flash!”
“Your life is gonna flash before your eyes if you don’t turn that shit off,” Bakugou snapped, reaching for Kirishima’s phone and snatching it successfully. His eyes narrowed as another shutter noise went off, before turning to round on Sero, who managed to dodge once, before ultimately losing to Bakugou’s faster (and soberer) reflexes.
“Man, these are memories!” Kirishima whined. Bakugou rolled his eyes.
“Like you dumbasses are gonna wake up with memories tomorrow. You’re all drunk off your asses right now. You won’t even remember this conversation, much less this–”
“You know you love us,” Mina interrupted, smirking playfully and draping a hand over his side Bakugou huffed and crossed his arms, manhandling Kaminari back into his chair, but notably not moving her arm.
“He didn’t deny it! Man, you’re a total sap.” Kirishima laughed, his eyes sparkling with knowingness.
“No, the fuck I’m not!”
“Dude, you totally are—!” The bickering resumed on both sides, with Kaminari and Kirishima uniting to antagonize Bakugou.
Mina’s phone buzzed once. Twice. She glanced at the caller ID and her smile wavered before setting it on the wooden countertop where Kirishima and Bakugou continued their passionate argument, which had shifted from Bakugou’s (alleged) sentimentalness to intense debate over whether or not Kirishima had broken the microwave (for the fourth time). Sero’s eyes traced her form as his brows arched an unspoken question.
“Haruto. Nothing, just…don’t quite feel like dealing with that right now,” She gestured vaguely, reaching for her phone as it continued buzzing to silence the ringer. She smiled tightly.
[Haruto, 11:53pm]
> Mina
> We need to talk
> Like seriously
> Im outside
> Answer my calls wtf
> This is so petty I’m done with this bs
“Doesn’t look like nothing to me,” Sero whistled knowingly, peering over her shoulder as the onslaught of messages continued.
Less than four hours ago, it wasn’t.
“Get the fuck out.”
Mina held his pleading gaze unwaveringly. Still, she gripped Haruto’s unlocked phone in her sweaty palm. The glare from the screen was damning, the profile, unmistakable; Haruto Akiyama, Age 20, ‘looking for something casual’. Distantly, a soft thud registers behind her on the carpet as the phone dropped to the ground. Mina’s fist clenched. Her tone was steely calm, her voice even.
“You’re not letting me explain.” Haruto had begged. He took a step closer, and reached for her arm, and if she could identify a catalyst, a moment where her rage bubbled over, she thinks it could be here. It had long been simmering, but prior to now, someone had always been there to tend the flames. I’m sorry I was back late, I was out with friends. Am I not allowed to have a life outside of you? You know I love us. We’re perfect. How audacious, try and console her, to attempt to soothe her–as if she was the unhinged one.
“Don’t,” She hissed, yanking her arm back with brisk force.
“I fucked up, okay? I get it. Believe me, I know. These past few weeks have been really difficult-”
“That’s a cop out.” Mina spits out, eyes narrowed.
“Miya–Mina, listen–.”
“Miyake? Is that who you matched with?”
“Shit– I meant Mina, I mean–I didn’t-”
“Wow. Keep a tally of the girls you fuck behind my back or something?”
Her own voice is echoing back at her. She doesn’t remember raising it.
“Mina, please-”
“How many?” Absently, she registers that she's now yelling, but the words are flying out of her mouth before she can stop them. Silent hot tears cascade down her face, and she furiously swipes at them. Haruto doesn’t deserve them.
A deafening silence rests between them before she speaks again.
“Mina,” Haruto tries again,“At least let me explain.”
She laughed bitterly. “You think I’m fucking stupid? I don’t need your goddamn excuses.”
“Look, I wasn’t planning on things coming out this way–” Haruto began, before Mina cut him off.
“Did the steps out of order, huh? You’re supposed to dump me before you making the fucking profile.”
Haruto reaches out again, and it's this specifically that pisses her off. The dismissiveness. Like it doesn’t matter what she’s saying, she can be placated like a child when given a lollipop. She swats him away angrily, taking a step back.
“I don’t care. Take your shit, and get the fuck out,” She repeats, enunciating each syllable, as her voice breaks towards the end.
Haruto sighs. “We’ll talk later.”
“We’ll talk never,” She corrects, watching him exit the door.
“Doesn’t look like nothing to me,” Sero whistled, peering over her shoulder as her phone continued to vibrate.
“It shouldn’t look like anything to you, nosy,” She retorted, shielding the screen from his eyes before switching the phone off and tossing it back where she had set it prior.
“You could do a lot better,” Kaminari said, freeing himself from Jirou’s grip momentarily before she wrangled him back into his seat. Bakugou pursed his lips in what Mina could only gauge as silent agreement.
“Well, I don’t have to anymore,” She said with false cheer, averting her eyes. The ceiling became very interesting. Everyone startled.
“Wait, you mean you finally ended things? Man, good for you, I hated that fu—hey!” Jirou’s well- aimed kick landed its target, who had somehow roused in time to contribute to the conversation, slurred speech and all.
Mina shifted uncomfortably. Haruto had always been…well, less of a sore subject, and more of an awkward one. He didn’t get along with any of them, Bakugou in particular.
“He was a piece of shit,” Bakugou says meaningfully. Kirishima elbowed Bakugou harshly, prompting Bakugou to shove him away irately.
“We’re, uh, sorry to hear that Mina,” Kirishima said pointedly, eyeing Kaminari and Bakugou reproachfully. Only Kaminari had the grace to look mildly abashed, but Bakugou merely grunted his trademark ‘I-may-be-an-asshole-but-I’m-right’ scoff, only slightly uncrossing his arms to allow Kirishima to lean against him. An ugly stirring beneath her skin made her stomach roll, followed by a waft of guilt.
They just—made it look easy, with casual touches, small smiles reserved only for the other, offhanded mentions so thoroughly steeped in care. Mina was happy for them. Really, she was. It was hard to be anything but, seeing them together. Even with Haruto, before things got rocky…it had never been…like that. Easy. Effortless. All the cringey ‘butterfly’ feelings described, for some reason had never afflicted her throughout her relationship. Sure, she was fond of Haruto. She liked him, that much she could say for sure. Haruto was–familiar. Comfortable. They’d hung in similar circles since high school, introduced by a friend of a friend, and they’d had good conversations, and one thing led to another. When he asked her to be his girlfriend, all Mina felt was–well, not much of anything. To her, it just seemed like the logical progression of events. Nice guy, good conversation, a few dates, then boom! Girlfriend. That was all there was to it for a while. There was a brief stint of contentment in the early stages of the relationship. They went on dates, hung out between schedules, and one time he even bought her one of those huge-ass rose bouquets with expensive chocolate. Shortly after, she met his parents. She remembers eating Hojicha Kinu chocolate with Ururaka in the break room, lightly conversing between bites.
“So, you guys are getting serious, huh?” Ururaka asked innocently, narrowing her eyes.
Mina laughed nervously. “I mean, I guess so.”
“That’s big! Congrats. Do you think you’ll get married?” She wiggled her eyebrows.
“I mean, we’re pretty young, but…” She pretended to think about it for a while longer, adopting a hopeful expression onto her face. As the conversation continued to idle chatter about rings and venues and whatnot, she couldn’t ignore the uneasiness stirring in her ribs. Marry Haruto? Well, people usually did that after dating for a while, She reasoned. Why did the thought of that make her so sick?
Mina stirred her drink slowly; the cubes had melted, and the condensation from the glass cup bit her hand as she placed it on the wooden counter. Sero cleared his throat loudly, his expression unreadable. Her eyes traced his form as his forearms flexed, reaching over her to snatch Kaminari’s half full shotglass. Risk mitigation, he called it.
“I love this song!” Effectively shattering the awkward silence, Mina downed her own glass in front of her. Imitating Sero, she leaned over and snatched his glass, ignoring his yelp of protest. The shot burned on the way down, loosening something in her chest. She grabbed his arm, jolting him as he narrowly avoided spilling tequila all over Jirou. Sero obligingly allowed her to drag him back to the dance floor, and the two of them plunged into a crowd of sweat and alcohol. As they reached the center of the club, her vision blurred, mind reeling from alcohol and adrenaline alike. Energy slammed into the crowd with bursts of noise, rattling her brain. Sweat dripped, soaking her top. Across from her, sweat pooled at the top of Sero’s brow, causing the inky strands of his hair to fall into his eyes. Someone bumps into her, and she doesn’t care, lets them dance in her space–too busy to acknowledge the people around them, her world narrowing.
The shots moved through Mina’s veins with a crueler intent; not enough to blur the edges of the world or drown out her own thoughts, but enough to loosen the steel locks fastened shut around the softer, more treacherous corners of her mind, lowering her inhibitions and focusing her attention on the eyes in front of her. Dimly, she registered that she was still clutching Sero’s hand. His hands dropped to her waist slowly, his eyes never leaving her face. Tequila hummed under her skin as she held his gaze, brandishing a hand to hover by his belt. Her heartbeat accelerated, hammering in her chest, drowning out the thumping bass behind them.
“Ashido.”
She let her hand fall, raking her index finger down the center of his abs, meeting his intense gaze and shifting closer. Using her waist to draw her closer, a hand perched underneath her chin nudging it upwards.
Objectively speaking, this was a bad idea. Mina Ashido, objectively speaking, is a fucking dumbass. The kiss was slow and deep. Mina made a muffled sound, before raising her arms to rest around his neck. She pulled him closer, both of them stumbling drunkenly before he steadied her with a hand at her waist. The alarms whirring in her brain were tranquilized by the alcohol inhibiting her constraint. Anyone could see them. It was stupid, reckless, and God help her, she didn’t care. The strong arm of logic wrestled with her intoxicated brain, promptly losing. He broke the kiss for air, chest rising and falling slowly.
“They’re probably wondering where we are,” He panted, eyes never leaving her.
“They can wait,” She said, eyeing his mouth greedily, leaning forward, fully intent on capturing his lips with her own. This time, he took the lead, kissing her roughly and splaying his palm across the small of her back, pulling her closer. She could taste the alcohol on his lips, smell the traces of faded cologne across his linen shirt. His hand moved across the terrain of her back, before the broke apart the second time, and he eyed her, asking her a silent question. Taking his hands in her own, she placed them on her chest and leaned in, kissing him roughly, twisting her fingers in his hair. Mina moaned. She’d known Sero forever, and he had always been…Sero. Nothing more, nothing less. Apart from group settings, they spoke minimally one on one. The music changed, jolting herself back to reality. He spoke first.
“The others are probably waiting for us,” Was all he said, expression unreadable. Dazed, Mina turned around towards the direction they came,
“Do you have any idea the implications of this photo?”
Her eyes move toward the projector showcasing the photo in questions, and Mina has to bite back a laugh. Who knew public relations was The image was blurry, taken at a distance, depicting a (very drunken) Mina wearing a Dynamight original sweatshirt over a short bodycon black mini dress, leaning against Kirishima, who was helping her into a black car and holding her gold heel in another hand.
“It was my day off. Why the hell should it matter?”
They’d had this exchange at least 40 times in the past 20 minutes.
“The when doesn’t matter. It’s the connotation that matters,” Hana, her PR assistant stressed.
“I still don’t see what that has to do with literally anything. Why the hell does it matter who people think I’m dating–”
“Look, it’s not about the photo. It’s about your image,” Hana interrupted. Mina gaped at her. Hana sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“That photo is making its rounds on social media. It’s out there on the internet forever. Hero image is just as, if not more important, than any kind of rescue or patrol stats. When people see this, they don’t see a hero. They don’t see someone reliable, someone they can trust, someone inspiring.”
An ugly feeling crawls near the back of her throat. She wasn’t the only one photographed in a less than stellar manner. Kaminari was way more fucked up; slurred speech, unable to walk, he was quite literally a breeze away from toppling like a set of dominoes, and was visible in the photograph right beside her.
“Which brings me to my next proposition: a rebrand.”
Hana continues,“These photos, for better or for worse, are all over. People won’t be forgetting about them for a while. I suggest we lean into this aesthetic, make it marketable.”
“That could work,” Momo hums thoughtfully,”Erotic. Sensual. Thrilling.”
“Um, what?” She wasn’t sure at what point this conversation had taken such a sharp turn to pimping her out like some
“Listen, this line of work isn’t just about performance. When you get on the streets, and people see you, you’re selling a vision. A lifestyle. The optics matter.” Wordlessly, she thrust a tablet under Mina’s nose, beckoning her to read.
Partygirl or Supergirl?
Recent footage of Pro Hero Pinky out partying has ignited massive debate on social media among netizens, with her suggestive attire and bold makeup choices--
“My eyeliner wasn’t even that bad!” Mina interjected. Hana shushed her, and motioned for her to resume reading.
–coming into question. Some dismiss the subject as a private matter, whilst others maintain the responsibility of Pro Heroes to uphold a sizable reputation to the general public. This is not the first time Pinky’s personal life has come under scrutiny; following a significant amount of dating rumours among her fellow heroes pre (and post) dating three different relationships in three years, netizens have coined the term “Hoe-roe”--
“This is absurd.” This time it was Momo that shushed her.
–in reference to the heroine’s serial dating tendencies. Freshly debuted on the Pro scene, Pinky’s most recent relationship has been thrust into the limelight following leaked pictures of fellow Pro Heros. This isn’t the first time that dating rumors have surrounded her, with speculation from fans about Pro Hero Dynamight–
Mina actually scoffed at the sheer ridiculousness as she exited the tab, ignoring Hana’s protests. It wasn’t called ‘tabloid trash’ for no reason. She said as much aloud, prompting a distressed noise from Hana, and a reproachful gaze from Momo.
“Be that as it may,” Momo continued carefully, like she was addressing a particularly stubborn child,”These first few years are vital for establishing credibility and appeal for new heroes.” She continued on with a tired spiel that Mina herself had been subject to countless number of times, emphasizing words like ‘longevity’ and ‘legacy’. Frothing rage rose in her throat as the minutes ticked by, with both Hana and Mom taking turns to lecture her on the importance of public perceptions as a pro status, especially their importance in the industry. When the clock signaled the “emergency meeting” finished, she exited the room with remnants of sanity as well as a staunch desire to never hear an objective description of her ‘sex appeal on a qualitative scale’ as per creepy online forums.
“Think about it,” Momo called after her as she all but fled the room. Didn’t seem like much thinking was done in general, She thought darkly, muttering to herself in the dark locker room as she stripped and changed, slamming the locker door with more force than necessary.
At Yuuei, they had been schooled in the basics; media relations, crisis communication, and brand storytelling. Even still, no amount of instruction prepared her for being in the limelight as a public figure. Absently, it had registered on some level that tabloid nonsense and hyper scrutiny was something that came with the territory. No one was special in that regard. However, knowing and experiencing were vastly different in practice. Her stomach as she rolled uncomfortably as she typed in the search bar to find the article she was reading earlier.
–Dynamight fans remain adamant in their disapproval, with many online users citing her previous history of branch swinging as cause for their disapproval.
Mina scrolled through the article, no longer really reading, to the bottom.
Comments
@mirkosbae876: these comments…yall would HATE me and my friends after a night out
@unbrakeablecar: is it a crime to go out with friends and get a lil drunk like damn u guys r strict😭
@all41&14all: Replying to @unbrakeablecar: lit they r acting like she went to an orphanage and started pole dancing💀💀
@mirkosbae876: Replying to @all41&14all: right like no way u guys dont think ur favs r doing the same stuff anyway lmfaooo not like its anyones business but still…chargebolt was literally BAKED. dude was smelling shapes and u guys r on her ass abt being a little tipsy??
@mirkosbae: Replying to @mirkosbae i mean ig hero image and all that stuff but is it rlly that srs
@chargebug: i hate how ppl talk abt her like its never anything about her stats or hero work its always stuff about her body and what she wears i fear we are losing the plot…
@dynamine: k but does anyone else feel like she lowkey gives off mean girl vibes? Like her whole aesthetic is giving v much ‘look at me always’ i feel like she always wants to be the center of attention
@dekusgf Replying to @dynamine: shes less of a hero and more of a sex symbol if we’re being real like girl we see the cleavage calm down
@symbolofvictoria: Replying to @dynamine This is obviously some type of marketing tactic. Every hero has their target demographic, and it’s obvious which one she’s going for. Lol
@user20058650873582: Replying to @chargebug she 100% does it to herself… and +like the earlier replies to OP said this is obviously a part of some type of campaign imo. heroes are supposed to influence and inspire, not party around and date all their coworkers. It’s a tough job that requires sacrifice. If she wants to be taken seriously, she needs to make some serious lifestyle changes. The optics aren’t great.
@allnightallmight: I feel that it’s insulting for her to be in conversation with her fellow 1-A comrades. The way she carries herself doesn’t invite the same level of respect as her hero counterparts. She’s obviously desperate to maintain relevancy at any cost, and she’s going the ‘all publicity is good publicity route’. I wouldn’t be surprised if this so-called “friendship” with Dynamight and Riot is some kind of PR tactic.
On some level, Mina was aware that being a public figure invited all kinds of commentary; drilled into her skull at the early beginning of Yuuei, she was well aware that the profession invited all types of discourse, ranging from nasty troll comments to tabloid gossip or forums dedicated to snarking her every move. Existing as a hero in a digital age was brutal, irregardless of rank and background. No one was exempt from the harsh criticism, nor the vitriolic comment sections after a rescue gone wrong, or unsolicited thinkpieces from internet neri. The general rule for most was to not engage. She was breaking it now, and not for the first time. She vividly remembers her first encounter with the media vividly, stumbling upon a ranking of ‘Top 10 Sexiest New Heroines’ on social media, clicking the link without thinking after seeing her name. The article itself was cruel–overly pedantic, discussing her and fellow female classmates like something akin to slabs of meat. Mina didn’t ever think she’d forget it. The dehumanizing language, the casual callousness. The comments were…vulgar. She read every single one, even as her hands were shaking, even as her eyes were watering.
“You shouldn’t read that shit.” Bakugou had told her, when he found her crying on the common room couch that afternoon. She had merely sniffled in annoyance. “Everyone else is,” She said miserably, angrily wiping her face on her sleeve.
“Only jobless internet freaks that have never done a real day of work in their lives,” He scoffed.
“And besides,” He continued gruffly,”That’s the difference between you and those fuckass losers. Heroes save lives. You save lives. Those people at home, sitting on their ass and criticising? Not worth a damn,” Bakugou finished vehemently, looking at her meaningfully. Mina had recognized this as one of his rare moments of tenderness, ones that were becoming more and more frequent post-war. The corners of her lips quirked up.
“Wouldn’t have pegged you as a pep talker She teased, her eyes following him as he moved to the kitchen, rummaging around in the fridge.
“Jack of all trades.”
That was the day she had vowed to prove herself. She wanted to make a name for herself, one that wasn’t tainted by superficial metrics like appearance and marketability. A hero meant more than that to her. Someone who represented something bigger than themselves.
Exiting the website and switching off the phone, (not before double checking her alarms) she sighed and allowed herself to sink deeper to the shitty secondhand couch gifted to her by a well-meaning elderly woman outside the supermarket.
“It’s about the optics,” She said mockingly, a poor imitation of Hana’s words from earlier, launching the screen across from her, watching it thud on the carpet and rolling over to face the wall.
The apartment was silent, save for her occasional hum; after all, the city truly never slept. Night had long set in, but the outside happenings continued buzzing noisily. The clock in the kitchen glared at her, displaying the time: 9:57. Reaching over the stomach of the couch, she grabbed her phone that lay facedown, and unlocked it. Adrenaline pulsing, and fingers moving faster than her brain, she fired off a quick message, hitting send before her sudden nerve could escape her.
[Hanta, 9:57pm]
>hey
>you up?