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It’s midnight, and Jirou is tired.
Her ears are aching after three hours of non-stop quirk usage in today’s mission, she’s cold and wet from the rain, and she hasn’t eaten anything since lunchtime. Which, apparently, was nine hours ago.
Jirou is tired - and yet, she sits in front of her television feeling entirely wide awake.
Because Momo’s on TV, and she is kicking ass.
Currently, she seems to be fighting that giant gelatinous monster which had managed to evade heroes in the Naboo district last week by pouring its body into the sewage system. It was frustrating, and Jirou had to learn early on that a lot of villains actually managed to slip past the Pro Heroes pretty easily. For Jirou, though, it’s just all the more reason to do better as a hero herself.
Jirou smirks at the screen. Ha. That guy’s not going anywhere if he’s up against Creati.
The footage isn’t actually all that good, especially considering that there’s a light shower that fogs up some of the details. Jirou can at least make out the basics, though. Momo seems to be swinging two poles around and smashing up miniature gelatin minions. The goo from their flesh splatters across her face and chest but she barrels on despite the mess she’s making. Then, to Jirou’s surprise, she stops.
Jirou leans forward to try to understand what’s going on, and almost reaches for the remote to mute the news commentator’s annoying voice until he says something.
“Oh, it looks like she’s-” the commentator’s voice pauses, “- ah, she’s getting Uravity and Chargebolt to cover her as she runs in the other direction. What in the world is she doing?”
Jirou watches with eyebrows furrowed as Momo takes several steps back, drops into a sort of squat, raises her arms in front of her, and closes her eyes. The familiar glimmer of her quirk activating has Jirou edging closer on the couch, eyes glued to the television.
Momo shouts something at Uraraka and Kaminari, but it’s inaudible from all the way up in the helicopter which is reporting the fight live. Uraraka moves first. She runs towards Kaminari, easily scoops him over his shoulder, and then jumps to launch themselves high into the air.
“Holy shit,” Jirou breathes.
“Well-” The commentator whistles appreciatively. “It seems like she’s got a-”
A cannon.
A fucking cannon.
Right then, the camera zooms in on her face, and Jirou’s breath catches in her throat.
Momo’s cape billows out from behind her. She’s got both hands on the weapon, one knee kneeling beside it and the other braced behind it. She slips one eye closed, lights up the back of the cannon with a fire she’s apparently conjured out of thin air and which can survive rain, and it explodes with a resounding BOOM that shakes the camera dramatically.
As the camera rights itself, it zooms back in.
Momo is smiling, and she looks downright feral. Her hair is wet, black tendrils clinging stubbornly to her face. The fiery orange glow of the explosion lights up her face dangerously, those dark eyes looking impossibly black in the brightness. Her lips stretch into a victorious grin.
It’s only when the camera moves back to the absolutely destroyed villain and the goo-splattered buildings that Jirou realises her mouth is completely dry. “Holy shit,” she says again.
She doesn’t know why, or what possessed her to do it, but at 12:15am a very tired Jirou Kyouka grabs the keys from her counter, slips her shoes back on, and runs out into the night.
At the entrance of Momo’s agency, Fatgum smiles knowingly at Jirou as she catches her breath by the doors.
“She’s filling out the paperwork for today’s attack on Level 3,” he tells her.
Jirou nods distractedly, hands gripping her knees as she heaves in air. Why did she run all the way here? She needs to find an excuse on why she came here, and fast. “Thanks,” she says, righting herself and wiping the sweat from her brow.
Fatgum just gives her a lazy salute and waddles away into the parking lot around the back of the building without another word.
Alright, she can do this. She was in the area, and she just wanted to drop by and say hello because she saw Momo’s fight on the big screen by the Coruscant Plaza and wanted to congratulate her-
Just as soon as Jirou steps toward the opaque glass door, it swings open.
“Kyouka?”
Holy hell, Jirou loves to hear her name in Momo’s mouth.
Jirou takes a step backward, hands tucking themselves back into her leather jacket. “Haha… hey Yaomomo.”
Momo stares at her for a second, the light from the lobby behind her silhouetting her perfect figure. “My my, what brings you here at this hour of the night? You look so tired right now. Shouldn’t you be resting at home?”
Momo hikes her duffle bag higher over her shoulder, switches off the light in the lobby, and steps outside to lock the door to Fatgum’s agency behind her.
“I- um..” Jirou pauses, the awkwardness of lying beginning to set in. “I was just... in the area. Thought I’d drop by because of the- well, I saw your fight today.”
“Ah.” Momo smiles as she turns around to face her, and even though she’s barely done anything, Jirou feels entirely disarmed already. Momo is back in her civilian clothing, dressed in a nondescript grey turtleneck sweater and black tights. Her hair falls elegantly down to her waist, almost as if the rain or the fight with a giant gelatinous villain were non-existent. If not for the small gash on her jaw, Jirou might’ve never even guessed there had been a fight earlier.
Jirou curses inwardly. Damn these pretty girls and their perfect perfect-ness.
Momo tilts her head at her expectantly. “Well, did you want to walk home with me since you’re here?”
I’ll go anywhere with you. “Yeah. Yeah, sure.”
As they walk down the brightly lit street that’s still bustling with people, Jirou chances a look up at her friend. She looks tired, but in the typical post-villain-battle way where your body hurts but your nerves are still electrified from the adrenalin. She can tell by the way Momo is smiling softly that she’s really not worn down at all. “Hey,” she starts, grinning. “You were great out there. Seriously. That guy didn’t stand a chance.”
Momo smiles again, shooting Jirou a fond look that makes her heart detach itself from her body and bob helplessly in her chest. “Thanks. Honestly, I thought I wasn’t really getting anywhere at the start. He just kept regenerating despite my best efforts.” Momo sighs and sidesteps a group of giggling middle schoolers. “It’s definitely one of the more frustrating battles I’ve faced this month.”
And Jirou can’t help it now. She grins widely. “Yeah, but then you pulled out that cannon.”
Momo scratches her jaw bashfully. “I noticed a dark patch in the villain’s chest area,” she says, and Jirou shakes her head at the way Momo still feels like she needs to explain herself, “so I felt I had to just destroy that part first. I certainly wasn’t expecting such a complete totality.”
“Well, it was freakin’ amazing to watch. You should’ve seen the look on your face!” Jirou tilts her chin up to look at the night sky. “Kinda reminded me of a villain or something.”
“A- a villain?" Momo squeaks, one hand cupping the side of her face. “Are- are you pulling my leg? Did I really?!”
Jirou rolls her neck to the side to look at her. “Nah, I’m not joking,” she says, eyes fixating on her dark eyelashes. “It was hot, though.”
Momo stares at her. "Hot," she repeats, face perfectly blank.
She's quiet as they walk side by side, and it’s making Jirou a little nervous. That wasn’t a weird thing to say, right? Straight girls complimented their friends all the time! So surely Momo was used to this. When Jirou looks back, Momo is blushing from the neck up. Oh my god. She’s not... uncomfortable, is she? Should she apologise?
“Was it really now?” Momo says, nearly a whisper. “Interesting.”
‘Interesting? ’
Jirou wants to say something to break this awkward tension, but by the time she’s opened her mouth they’re already standing outside of Momo’s apartment block. Jirou closes her mouth and swallows.
Momo tucks her hair behind one ear and looks at her feet. She’s biting her lip and smiling, so at least she doesn’t seem mad. Jirou finds herself relaxing immediately at this. Disaster... averted?
When Momo turns to face her, time seems to suspend itself for a bit, and for a brief moment they’re suddenly stuck in some sort of lesbian limbo. Jirou finds herself at a loss for what to do. Should she just say goodbye and leave? Is she meant to come up into Momo’s apartment? Considering that Jirou just walked her home like this was some kind of date, does that mean that-
Are they going to kiss now?
“Well. Guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” Momo grips the bag over her shoulder, smiles at her again, and turns to head inside her block.
“I- Right. Bye,” Jirou says, dazed. Damn. Why did she think anything was going to happen? “Sleep well, Yaomomo.”
Momo turns around and waves one last time. “You too, Kyouka.” The drizzle slows to a stop, and Jirou takes a breath in from the mouth.
In the wake of Momo’s absence, the chill is finally starting to sink in.
“Did’ja get into a fight with Yaomomo or somethin’?” Kaminari squeezes another cone shaped corn chip onto his finger and waggles his fingers with an amused smile. “I’m a witch,” he declares, raising one hand right into Jirou’s face.
Jirou shoves his hand back down with a frown. “A fight? No. What makes you think that?”
She drops her bag down by her desk chair, which a certain lightning-streaked blond is occupying at the moment. Their agency is in rush hour given that it’s almost mid-afternoon, but that doesn’t seem to stop Kaminari from barging into Jirou’s workspace to gossip. Or- whatever else he’s doing now. Jirou eyes the bag of chips sitting on her desk wryly. “If you keep eating those, you’re gonna die an early death. And it’s not gonna be because a villain got the jump on you.”
With a nonchalant shrug, Kaminari pops another one of the chips stuck on his finger into his mouth. “Then at least I’ll die a martyr. Another naive young man succumbing to the wiles of the alluring and deadly corn chip. A truly noble pursuit, don’t you think?”
Jirou rolls her eyes but lets out a small smile anyway. “Whatever weirdo. Anyway- what were you saying about Momo? You said that-”
“Oh. Yeah, yeah. Nah, nothin’ to worry about, probably.” Kaminari glances around. “She was just in the break room this morning eating up a storm, and when I went inside she asked me if you were around. I told her that I had no idea, and then I complimented her makeup because she looked really good today, and for what? Man, Momo’s legendary. Did you know she’s got a whole makeup routine for just her hero work?”
Good god. Obviously Jirou knew that- not that Kaminari needs to know. “Can you get to the point, please?” Jirou leans against her desk and looks down at him with an expectant raise of her eyebrows.
“Okay, well.” Kaminari swallows thoughtfully. “She told me that if I saw you around, I should pretend like I didn’t see her just in case you asked where she was. And that we should keep what I saw to myself.”
Jirou blinks at this. Why would Momo ask Kaminari to do that? A small pinprick of hurt lodges itself thornily into the side of her heart. She turns her head away. “Huh. But Momo isn’t even working today...” Well, it wasn’t unusual for pro heroes to hang around the workplace even when they were off for the day, so there was that. Jirou looks back at him. “So she told you not to tell me… and you told me anyway?”
Kaminari grins and stands up, dusting the powder of the corn chips onto his pants. “Duh! ‘Cause you’re my best friend and I love you.”
She laughs at this, the sound popping out unexpectedly, and feels just a bit lighter. “Right. Sorry dude, but Momo’s already taken that spot. You’re welcome to wait in line though?”
“No way.” Kaminari spins Jirou’s chair around once and then rests his forearms against the back of it. “The two of you are gonna collapse into a Big Lesbian Bang one day, which means that I’m reserving my spot as your best friend now. And also the best man. And also your best ex. You know, even when we were boinking-”
“Please don’t make me regret dating you-”
“-I thought you two would make a great couple!” Kaminari finishes, flashing a million watt smile at her. At the pop-up sound of a notification, he fishes out his phone from his jacket pocket and thumbs through it. “Anyway, I just thought I’d let you know. You know, ‘cause I love you platonically and- oh. Speak of the devil!”
Jirou is whipping the phone out of his hands before he can so much as get another word out.
Kaminari’s phone is opened up to Twatter, where a video of a villain attack in downtown Jakku is taking place.
“Momo?” Jirou squawks disbelievingly, even though she knew she was going to see her on-screen from what Kaminari had said before. Kaminari laughs and leans over her shoulder to look at the news too.
The footage this time is much clearer. It shows an obviously off-duty Momo - clad in what looks like workout gear which fits her body way too snuggly - step out of a crowd of people and enter onto the street, where a woman dressed in what looks like a bad cosplay of the Joker is currently being engaged by other pro heroes.
Jirou notices as one of the pro heroes on the scene - Mina? - whips her head around to stare at Momo. Magically, the person operating the camera is able to pick up on the audio, despite the chaos of the civilians scattering and the villain cackling in the background.
“Creati? You’re not supposed to-”
Momo walks confidently forward, placing her body in between the villain (who seems to be perched atop some type of upside down car and being quite easily bound by Shiozaki’s vines) and gets down on one knee.
“Creati?!-"
“Trust me! Please tell Vine to step away immediately!” Momo spares a glance towards the camera, and she smiles.
Kaminari lets out a low whistle, startling Jirou back into her own body. “Denks,” she starts, “she’s not seriously going to-”
“Blast this girl to bits?” Kaminari strokes his chin. “Hmm. Maybe she knows what she’s doing?”
“Why is she using the cannon again?” Jirou’s eyebrows pinch together. “The other heroes clearly have this under control, and she’s not even working today! I don’t understand...”
Kaminari frowns, making their expressions nearly identical. “Maybe if she doesn’t use a certain amount of energy in a day, her giant badonkers will fall off?”
Jirou glares at him and he raises his hands defensively, before they both turn back to the Twat that’s currently gaining hundreds of likes. In a flash of light that was both entirely expected and also entirely unexpected, Momo has conjured a cannon. A smaller one this time, but a cannon nonetheless. Momo brushes the hair from her forehead, adjusts her position, and bends down low over the machine, her ass jutting backwards just a little bit. For a split second, Jirou thinks she sees Momo’s eyes flit towards the camera - as if she was looking straight at Jirou.
Good god, I am so gay.
Jirou can’t stop the blush from staining her cheeks, despite the fact that she should not be finding this situation as hot as it is right now. When the cannon fires, the blast whizzes clean through the villain. The silence that follows is deafening.
“So, uh.” Kaminari leans away and swallows audibly. “Did we just witness a murder?”
“Wait.” Jirou is still fixated on his phone. There’s something in Momo’s face which is unnerving her- this odd look of mild surprise that colours her features. “Look- the villain just scattered in the wind like pieces of torn paper. This must be the paper illusionist that kept popping up and disappearing in the Tokyo region! Mâchéte Queen, or something.”
“Wow, I didn’t know you spent time with Midoriya!”
Jirou sighs and locks his phone when the video just starts replaying the same footage again. “I think I spend more time with Bakugou, actually.”
Kaminari considers this and hums. “Eh, same difference. They’re a package deal, and all that. Anyway, that was crazy how Yaomomo just knew how to defeat this Queen chick right off the bat.” He whistles again. “U.A don’t play around when they pick their student recommendations, huh?”
Jirou bites her lip. Why the heck did Momo interfere when the other pro heroes seemed to have the situation under control? And why did Momo look almost surprised by the outcome? It was like... she was coming back to herself.
Jirou hands his phone back to him and tucks her hands into her pockets with a dejected sigh. “She threw me off my groove,” she laments. “I’m not going to be productive today at all.”
“‘Cause you’re gonna be thinkin’ about her tits?” Kaminari nods in solidarity. “I understand the feeling. Though nowadays I’m more preoccupied by Shinsou’s-”
“Stop. Talking.”
Jirou is peering into the window of a gift shop when Momo calls. She adjusts the bags around her elbow and answers with an eager smile when she sees ‘yaomomo <3’ light up her screen.
“Momo! Hey!-”
“Kyouka. Did you see me today?”
Jirou frowns, confused, at the Creati plushie she was eyeing in the gift shop window. “No? I think we might’ve missed each other. I was in the agency all day.”
“No no, I mean- did you watch me take down the Mâchéte Queen?” There’s the faint sound of shoes scuffing against pavement. “Actually, ah, where are you right now? Wait- don’t answer that. Just. Did you see it?”
Jirou huffs out a laugh. “You alright there?” she teases. “Yes, I saw it. You looked really cool, as usual.” She hesitates, just slightly, but Momo notices.
“...There’s a ‘but’ in there, isn’t it?”
Jirou sighs as she turns on her heel and continues the walk down to Uraraka’s apartment, where she needs to drop off some of the equipment she’d borrowed from her before. “Well. For a second there, I thought you legit killed her. I mean- no offence, or anything, but… the cannon didn’t feel all that… appropriate? I mean it worked out in the end, because you’re a genius and you knew how to take her down in ten seconds flat but..”
She stops in front of a pedestrian crossing, squinting as the sunset angles itself in a nearby car window to blind her. “No, I mean. It was…” She thinks about Momo’s bent waist, her confident smile as she straddled the weapon beneath her like some kind of strap, and tilts her head back as the blush comes creeping back onto her face. “... It was really cool.”
There’s a brief silence on the other hand. Then, softly, Momo laughs. “Okay. Well, um. Consider it noted.”
She hangs up, leaving Jirou to wonder why it feels like something between them has irrevocably changed.
It happens again.
It happens four more times, to be exact. And every time, Momo makes sure to contact Jirou in some way to ask her for her opinion on the battle. Jirou doesn’t ask about it, but she’s fairly certain that Momo is just feeling insecure about her abilities again and is seeking her reassurance. Or something.
Still, the whole cannon business has Momo acting… differently. She’s chirpier, for one. And she seems to laugh a lot more easily around Jirou. It’s a little strange, in a way, how they’ve seemed to grow closer over the past few weeks. Not that she’s complaining.
One morning, Jirou enters Fatgum’s agency early in the morning. Early enough that even the morning songbirds have just begun their morning routine. She’s here to find Fatgum and hopefully get him to hand over the brief of the Sharkhead villain, especially now that it’s under Gang Orca’s control. Instead of Fatgum, though, she finds Momo.
Momo- who is in the break room, and is currently devouring an entire table’s worth of food.
Jirou pauses in the door, the manilla folder in her hand nearly slipping out of her grasp and falling to the floor.
“Momo?"
“EEP!” Momo startles violently, head whipping around to face Jirou. She’s got crumbs lining the shape of her lips, and the table in front of her is littered with platters of food that looks like it came straight out of an all-you-can-eat buffet. The kitchen stove is messily cluttered with various pots and pans. And since when was Momo messy about anything?
“What are you-” Jirou cuts herself off, eyes drifting to the hurricane of food again. “Why is there-”
“I’m preparing!” Momo says, her voice a little higher than usual. She turns around, quickly wipes at her face, and begins to gather the items into a neater pile in the middle. “You know, for today’s mission! I have to eat generously in order to replenish my body and maintain optimal quirk strength. Yes. Indeed.”
Jirou’s mouth opens, closes, and then opens again. “Yeah, uh. I know how your quirk works. I just didn’t think you had such a big mission today? You don’t usually eat this much for your average day-to-day work.” Ah, crap. Is it weird for her to know that? Friends know things about each other right? Including how much they ate for breakfast?
From the way Momo turns around with a slightly taken aback expression, the knowledge that Jirou knows this about her is obviously not missed.
(Jirou wants to sink into the floor).
“Oh.” She glances at a plate of chicken drumsticks and then looks back at Jirou, her face pinkening. “Yes, well- you’re right. There’s no special mission today. I’m just.” She gives a small shrug and tugs her fingers. “Experimenting.”
Momo looks embarrassed. Jirou feels embarrassed. She’s not exactly sure what’s going unsaid between them, but she decides to let it go. For both of their sakes.
“Oh. Cool.” She rocks back on her heels and looks down at her toes. Because for some reason, it feels weird to make eye contact. She feels like she’s seen something she wasn’t supposed to- like she’s now privy to some weird type of secret. For the love of god, just change the subject. “Um. Your hair is down.”
Why did I say that?
Momo reaches up to touch her hair, looking slightly taken aback by the observation. “Well, I let Hagakure borrow my ponytail and I think she ended up keeping it, so…”
“It looks nice,” Jirou says when Momo doesn’t continue the sentence.
“Oh!” Momo smiles bashfully, tucking a lock behind her ear. She’s been doing that a lot, lately. “Thank you. That is, um, noted. Also- why are you here so early anyway, Kyouka?”
And just like that, the awkwardness dissipates. SHE SAID KYOUKA AGAIN!!!
Jirou expertly sidesteps the feeling of her heart fluttering uselessly in her chest in favour of giving a normal reaction. “I was looking for Fatgum,” she explains, finally making her way over and settling herself down into the chair beside Momo’s. “Sharkhead’s capture has been handed over to Gang Orca’s team, so I guess I got demoted to Orca’s assistant today. What do you know about him?”
Momo smiles and exhales slowly, looking unmistakably relieved at the topic change. Again, Jirou catalogues the fact that Momo is clearly not telling the entire truth about something. If she’s being honest, the fact that Momo might be keeping things from her stings a little, despite the fact that the fear is ridiculous. She’s not entitled to tell Jirou everything just because they’re best friends!
Holding on to that thought, Jirou bites her tongue and refrains from asking Momo what’s really on her mind, and they fall into safe territory of discussing case facts about particularly evasive villains.
Still, Jirou can’t help but feel unnerved by Momo’s strange behaviour as of late. She watches in fascinated silence as Momo bites unceremoniously into a large piece of steak, swallows neatly, and resumes talking as if she hadn’t just unhinged her jaw to incredible lengths just then. Damn. Only Momo could make eating look sexy...
Jirou rests her chin in her palm and continues to watch Momo talk. Things feel slightly different, but... they’re both still the same. The thought is comforting enough to almost make her forget about the whole thing.
“Yaoyorozu looks a bit different lately,” Tsuyu chirps from where they’re huddled in the alleyway. From above them, dark clouds are beginning to roll in, and Jirou prays against all odds that they won’t get rained on today.
“Uh huh,” Jirou says noncommittally, one earphone jack plugged into the gravelly floor. One of her palms rests next to the jack, her body tense with anticipation. So far, there have been no vibrations large enough to resemble a parade float or the crowd that is soon to follow it, so for once she’s not too bothered by the fact that someone is talking when she’s supposed to be working.
“Must be ‘cause her hair’s always down now!” Hagakure says pleasantly from behind Jirou. “Which, haha… might be because I stole her hairtie.”
“Momo has other hairties,” Jirou said, voice coming out quietly in her half-concentration.
Tsuyu’s legs collapse to her sides so that she’s splayed out on the ground like a duck. “It’s not just the hair,” she continues, one finger pressing against her chin. “She dresses differently too.”
Hagakure lets out a small squeal. “Ooo, Tsu are you gossiping right now? You must be so bored!”
Tsuyu ribbits. “No. I was just thinking out loud-”
“Maybe she’s trying to impress someone!” Hagakure butts in, her growing excitement obvious. “C’mon Tsu, do you have any details? Just who on earth do you think it could be?" She sounds almost sarcastic, the words coming out jokingly, but the tone flies right over Jirou’s head, who looks up like a startled animal at this.
“What?” She squints at Hagakure almost accusingly. “Momo doesn’t- She wouldn’t-” Jirou cuts herself off, frustrated. Wouldn’t what? Like someone? Is she even hearing herself?
Hagakure waits for Jirou to answer and then sits back down when she doesn’t. “Why do you think she doesn’t like anyone?”
“‘Cause she would’ve told me,” Jirou mutters childishly, trying to refocus her attention back to the task at hand.
Hagakure scoots closer until she’s sitting right next to her. Jirou can’t see her face, but it’s obvious from her posture that she’s angling her face toward her and smiling. “Ohh, I see.” Hagakure scoots even closer. “What if she hasn’t told you… because you’re the one she likes?”
“Oh.. Plot twist,” Tsuyu says, completely deadpan.
Jirou shoves Hagakure’s face away even as her cheeks heat up. “Pfft. Yeah right. Momo and I are just friends.”
“Friends my foot!” Hagakure huffs and crosses her legs. “Let me bring out the evidence. One: You guys are always hanging out. Like, all the time. ‘Chako invites us over for drinks and you guys huddle together in a corner and make out with your eyes. Two: Whenever you sit next to each other on a couch, Momo leans forward so that her tatas hang out and you blush and look away and then she smiles, because she’s actually kinda cruel. Three: You guys are on a first name basis! I mean, some of us are too, with each other, but the both of you have been doing it since like, second year. Four: She lets her hair down now-”
“-and she looks good doing it.” Jirou rolls her eyes. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Did you tell her that?” Tsuyu says, scooting closer towards Jirou as well. “That you like it when her hair is down?”
Jirou pauses, all thoughts about their work blown out the window by now. “Well… yeah? I mentioned it a few days ago…”
Hagakure gasps with realisation and then claps her on the back, ignoring Jirou’s unexpected wheeze. “And Momo’s been wearing her hair down in the last couple of days! Tsu- what else about Momo is different?”
“Well,” she begins, considering, “she keeps bringing out that cannon during her fights. Even when it's completely unnecessary sometimes-”
“I told her it looked hot,” Jirou says, her heart pounding. “Oh my god. I told her it was hot, and then she kept doing it, and she always asked me about it and I-” Jirou shakes her head, hardly believing her own words. “No way. There’s no way."
Hagakure just howls with laughter. “What did I tell ya?! Case closed your honour, they’re lesbians!” She makes a motion like she’s wiping the tears from her face. “Phew, that was fun. Babe, you should really go tell that little flirt that the game is over now.”
Jirou stands up, her face resolute and determined. “I’m gonna get my girl,” she declares, mouth splitting into a grin despite herself.
“Yes you are! But uh, not now. Seriously, you’re like, a vital part of this mission.”
Jirou blushes and sits back down. “Right. Let’s just get this over with already then.”
“Pro Heroes Creati and Dynamight are currently on the scene in the Tatooine district! Despite the inclement weather, today they’re battling it out against a masked villain wielding dual swords. Toyama Sakura reports live-"
Hagakure shivers from the cold and abruptly turns her phone off. Jirou whirls on her instantly.
“What was that for?” she demands. “Momo’s just about to-”
Hagakure huffs, unplugs her phone from the charging port, and stands up from where they’re crouched in the locker room.
Tsuyu spares them a glance as she walks by, half-dressed out of her hero costume. “Tooru-san, you’re going to catch a cold if you don’t change into something warmer. Your clothes are soaked-”
Ignoring her, Hagakure addresses Jirou instead. “Girl. It’s literally pouring rain outside.”
When she doesn’t elaborate, Jirou raises an eyebrow. “Okay?”
“Must I spell everything out for you?! We know she’s out at Tatooine! If you’re going to go chase after your girl, what better way to do it than to confess your feelings in the pouring rain?!”
Some of the heroes at Orca’s agency turn their heads curiously at the pair of them, their interest no doubt piqued by the scent of romantic drama. Jirou flushes under the attention but she mulls over Hagakure’s words all the same.
“So…” she swallows, throat suddenly tight with nerves. “You’re saying that- that I should… go right now.”
Hagakure heaves out a sigh, no doubt relieved that Jirou was finally getting somewhere. “Yeah, right now! Here, take this.” Hagakure pulls out her hot pink drawstring bag out of a locker and retrieves an equally hot pink umbrella from inside it. It’s littered with glitter and hearts, and Jirou eyes it warily.
“Hagakure-”
“Wear this too.” Tsuyu materialises from behind her with a clear material in her hands. It’s a raincoat. “For extra protection.”
Jirou’s heart picks up so quickly that she can almost visualise a heart beat monitor malfunctioning and breaking down from the speed. Oh god. She’s really going to do this. “You guys…” She laughs softly, lips pursing shut as she considers the items thrust into her face.
“This is no time to be feeling grateful for having amazing friends,” Hagakure sighs, voice urgent. “You’re going to go woo Yaoyorozu, and then me and Mina will finally be even in the matchmaking-” she cuts herself off with a cough. “Ah, I mean- you’ll finally start dating the love of your life!”
“Not subtle,” Tsuyu notes bluntly as she unwraps the raincoat. It’s clearly hers judging from the chibi frogs patterned into the plastic, and Jirou’s heart warms at the idea that she’s allowing her to borrow it for tonight. “Don’t actually expose yourself to the rain for too long, Jirou. Please take care of yourself.”
“I will, Tsu. Now-”
“God, wait.” Hagakure fusses over Jirou’s hair for a bit, trying her best to smooth down the frizz that was not only exacerbated by today’s mission but also by the humidity of the rain. “Okay, I’ll admit it. You don’t exactly look like a perfect ten right now, but I’m sure Yoyo won’t mind at all. She’s seen you in worse, right?”
“It’ll be dark outside too,” Tsuyu adds helpfully.
Jirou shrugs on the raincoat and snatches the umbrella away from Hagakure’s hand a little too quickly. “Is that supposed to be making me feel better?”
Hagakure just laughs and turns Jirou around, guiding her by the shoulders to the exit. “It’ll be fine,” she assures her airily. “She’s been drooling over you since forever, probably. A romantic gesture like this is gonna sweep her right off her feet!”
Jirou swallows when Hagakure opens the door out of the locker rooms and leads them toward the upstairs lobby. “Wait. Waitwaitwait, what exactly am I supposed to do to-”
“That,” Hagakure says, voice laced with equal parts delight and mischief, “is for you to decide.” And with that, she shoves her out into the downpour. “Good luck!”
The glass doors slam shut from behind her. Jirou spares one glance over her shoulder to see Hagakure scamper away, and then she turns on her heel to face the street. Tatooine Street isn’t too far away from here. She squints against the rain, and then she runs.
She arrives at the scene in a sweaty, dishevelled mess. Dodging crowds of people evacuating the area and trying her hardest to not slip and eat pavement against the slippery roads was certainly a feat, but she’s here. God. Why does she keep running towards Momo like it’s the last time she’ll ever see her?
“You’re fucking talking my ear off nerd, slow down."
Jirou turns the corner and finds a tall, blond man taking shelter under a shop awning as he talks to someone on the phone. Bakugou waves off a police officer who attempts to talk to him, and it’s only then that Jirou’s eyes dart over to the road beside them and she takes in the police cars and people in uniforms idling around under whatever shelter they could find.
The fight is apparently already over. That was... fast.
Bakugou sighs and hangs up shortly after Jirou jogs up to him, her umbrella tilting slightly backwards so that she can look up at him. When he turns to look at her, the frown on his face melts into something more neutral.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he drawls, raising an eyebrow. His face mask is torn in half, and he has to blink away the raindrops gathering on his eyelashes. “Actually, scratch that- not my problem. Deku’s gonna burn down the house again and I ain’t got time to sit around and chat.”
Jirou rolls her eyes. “Well hello to you too.”
“Shuddup.” He jabs a thumb across the street. “Your girlfriend’s talking to some scrub over there.” Without waiting for a reply, he whips his car keys out of his pocket and stalks off, his footsteps hurried.
“Asshole,” Jirou says to his back, just because she can. “You still coming over on Saturday?”
“If my house isn’t burned to the ground by then,” Bakugou grumbles pointedly without turning around. She watches him stomp his way to his car (conveniently parked by the side of the road) before dropping himself inside and speeding off.
Then, she turns to look across the road. She finds Momo instantly. She appears to be listening to whatever the villain tied up on the ground is saying, her face unforgivingly cold and bored. Jirou licks her lips in response to that expression, and then immediately berates herself for getting sidetracked.
She’s about to open her mouth to call out for her, but in that instant Momo’s eyes flit up and they lock eyes.
Jirou’s heart leaps into her throat, and for a second she feels completely unmoored. She’s standing on the other side of the road in a frog patterned raincoat and a disgustingly bright umbrella to rival Aoyama’s sparkles. She probably looks like a complete mess too. Her limbs are tired from work, where she did her fair share of chasing after suspects who thought they could slip past her. Her hair is all over the place. She hasn’t even changed out of her hero costume, and she’s got no idea what she smells like.
Despite all of that though, Momo straightens and smiles at her, and it’s so wide and so open that Jirou has no option to smile right back. Normally, she thinks, she might wave politely at her. But now? Now, she’s on another mission.
“Momo,” she says, but it’s not loud enough. She steps out from underneath the shop awning she shared with Bakugou and into the rain, eyes never leaving hers. “Momo! Yaomomo!"
Momo turns to the villain, quickly says something, and then she’s stepping out into the rain too. Her eyes are sparkling with something, her loose hair is slick with rain, and her skin seems to be glowing.
“Kyouka!” she calls out, jogging a little to meet her in the middle. “What on earth are you doing here?”
Jirou swallows, opens her mouth-
“Isn’t that Tsu’s raincoat?-”
Jirou looks down at herself and lets out a laugh. At least the raincoat seems to be distracting enough from Jirou’s overall general appearance. “Yeah. Listen, I-”
“Did you see me today, Kyo?! Wait, stop, let’s talk underneath-”
“Momo,” Jirou says again, breathlessly. Her heart is pounding desperately in her ears and she’s getting a little dizzy. Unthinkingly, one hand comes out to rest against Momo’s chest, right over her heart. It’s placed there in an attempt to steady herself, to ready the words she’s been preparing on her tongue, but when she looks up at Momo, the rising blush on her face has her pausing.
At Momo’s own expense, Jirou finds her confidence rising. She smiles and raises the umbrella up to shelter them both. “You know,” she whispers, the smile only widening as Momo blinks back curiously, “you could’ve just told me.”
“I’m sorry,” Momo says, tilting her head. “Am I missing something?”
Me, she thinks, and the thought is too embarrassing to voice out loud so she just takes a deep breath in and moves her hands up to lace around Momo’s neck. The umbrella clatters to the ground behind her, and she surges upward to kiss Momo with every ounce of courage she has left in her.
Her lips are cold, soft, wet with rain. They part slightly when Momo makes a surprised sound against her mouth, and Jirou’s fingers tighten involuntarily at the nape of her neck at the sound of it. For a brief second, it’s like she’s floating. Before she can overthink it, Jirou pulls away quickly to gauge Momo’s reaction.
Momo’s eyes are blown wide, her cheeks flushed a dark red. She gapes openly at Jirou, who grins again at the reaction.
“Was that okay?” she asks quietly into the small space between their faces.
“Yes,” Momo says instantly, and Jirou’s shoulders sag with relief just as quickly. “Yes. More than okay. Oh my gosh. Kyouka, was I really-? I'm sorry- I swear, I don’t quite know what came over me. I just wanted you to keep...” she trails off, the words clearly catching up to her as she burns with embarrassment. “I just wanted you to look at me.”
Jirou ducks her head down and attempts to tamp down her own smile, but this overwhelming sense of happiness is making any attempts to school her expression entirely impossible. “Yaomomo.” She laughs loudly. “I’m never not looking at you. Seriously. God. You could’ve said the word any time and I would be there.”
She’s not entirely sure if she makes any sense, but Momo raises a hand to her own face and blushes, so she thinks she understands. Raindrops slide down Momo’s neck and dip down into her chest, and Jirou has to snap her eyes back up.
“I feel…” Momo chuckles and drags that same hand through her soaked hair. “Incredibly foolish.”
Feeling bold, Jirou takes both of Momo’s hands in her own and interlaces them together between their chests. “Well, I think what you did was really cute… Besides.” She shrugs one shoulder. “They do say that love makes you stupid.”
Momo huffs and squeezes Jirou’s hand. “It certainly does. For starters, we are probably going to wake up with a cold tomorrow morning.” And with that, she smiles, leans down, and kisses Jirou again. This time, Jirou melts completely into it.
The downpour beats down relentlessly around them, but she doesn’t feel the cold. On the contrary, she feels entirely buzzed with energy. Everything feels slow, summer sweet and intoxicating. Momo’s gentle breath, her soft lips, her warm hands. She feels hot to the touch and alight with far too many emotions. She smiles into Momo’s mouth, just barely resisting a contented sigh.
“The media’s gonna have a field day with this,” Jirou mutters when they pull away.
Momo’s eyes look glazed over, but she manages a pleased smile. “Well, what did you expect?” She waves their conjoined hands at the rain around them. “Isn’t it your fault for pulling such a romantic gesture on me?”
Jirou shrugs again, eyes darting away and back again. “Well, I wanted to like-” Hagakure’s words flash instantly in her head. “-Sweep you off your feet. Or something.”
Momo laughs brightly. “Well, in that case Kyouka,” she pecks her on the lips again, casual enough to send Jirou into a mini heart attack, “mission accomplished."