Chapter Text
Shouta is walking home from his late-night patrol, scrolling through his unread email on his phone, when one from the Hero Public Safety Commission catches his eye. The subject is vague enough to pique his interest, titled Need Volunteers for Upcoming Gala.
He opens it and skims the contents. It's not quite what he expects — typically they want heroes to work as security detail, but instead the email outlines some bullshit event that's being proposed as a way to mend the strained relationship between heroes and the public.
They plan on putting on a gala to fundraise after the destruction at Kamino Ward, aptly named Project Rebuild. They are pitching it as an opportunity to mingle with heroes, but the main event — the part they want hero volunteers for — boils down to being some kind of botched mail-in raffle. A way to win a 'date' with a hero.
It's all so tacky in his opinion. What type of hero would even offer themselves up? Obviously there are the many self-obsessed heroes, but he suspects some of the higher-ranked ones would assume it is their duty and obligation to serve their people, as if going on a date with one of them is the same as saving someone. Outside of that, anyone else that volunteers is probably just looking for an ego boost, or hoping it'll give them more additional notoriety.
It's all self-serving. Even if he wasn't an underground hero, there is no way in hell he would ever give this an ounce of thought.
He rolls his eyes, hits delete, and continues scrolling through the sea of promotional spam and work-related emails.
A week later, as Shouta's tracing his usual patrol route, he hears Hizashi's voice while passing by an electronics store. He stops to take a look, and more accurately, he hears his best friend's hero persona, Present Mic, on one of the televisions in the display window. It looks like an arranged interview to talk about the upcoming gala. He's dressed up in his hero costume, looking flawless and as effortlessly cool as he always does.
Shouta joins the small crowd that gathers to watch.
Present Mic holds up a postcard with All Might's face plastered on it and explains how raffle entries can be purchased at participating convenience stores. They can purchase raffle tickets for specific heroes and there's no limit — they're allowed as many tickets as they can afford. He pauses to grin and playfully quips that he supposes there is a limit — that they have to fill out each postcard with their name, contact info, and an optional note they want their hero date to know, so there's only the limitation of how much they can write until their hand falls off.
Shouta snorts under his breath.
Present Mic continues on to explain there will be one winner per hero. Winners will receive a ticket to the gala, alongside the added bonus of having the honor of the hero they "won" being their date for the evening.
He does a good job pitching it, which isn't a surprise in the very least. Hizashi is persuasive. It makes sense that his knack for roping Shouta in countless schemes (that he would have otherwise said no to if it came from someone else) would translate flawlessly into public speaking.
"How exciting! And which lucky bachelors and bachelorettes do we have to look forward to, Present Mic?" the interviewer asks.
"Quite the talent pool! Obviously we have our previous number one, All Might, as the headliner, but don't think it starts and ends with just him. From our top ten list, we've got the brand new number two, Hawks as well as our number ten, Ryukyu to look forward to! There's also the beautiful Uwabami, the cool-headed Snipe, along with…"
He continues listing a handful of heroes, and Shouta is impressed Hizashi is able to rattle off all these details off the top of his head. He delivers it with such a relaxed confidence that Shouta can't help but admire. Present Mic pauses and flashes his iconic larger-than-life smile that has Shouta smiling back.
The Safety Commission probably personally requested Hizashi to help with advertising the event, and there was no arguing they picked well. No one would be better at this. He doubts any of the hero-dates would be able to sell the event as well as Hizashi.
"And of course, you also have my charming self to look forward to."
The information doesn't fully sink in until after Present Mic shoots a finger gun in the direction of the camera and purrs out, "Hope to see you there, listener!"
"Wait, what?" Shouta asks when the segment ends and transitions into a commercial break.
Shouta doesn't see Hizashi until the following day while he's walking down the halls of UA. Normally he would grunt out a 'hey' and continue on his way to his classroom, but this morning, he feels more awake, sharper, as though he's on a mission.
He reaches out to grab Hizashi's forearm and stares him down. "Did they harass you into signing up?" Shouta asks before Hizashi has a chance to register what's happening.
"Huh?" Hizashi asks.
"The gala the Safety Commission is putting on. Did they force you into signing up for it?" he clarifies.
"No?"
Shouta releases him and glares, scrutinizing him. Hizashi's eyes are hidden under his sunglasses, but his confusion is still clear, evident by how his eyebrows shoot up.
"Why'd you sign up for it then?" Shouta asks.
"Because I thought it'd be fun," Hizashi shrugs. "And it's for a good cause. Repair relations with the public, and raise money to help rebuild Kamino Ward. Seems like all good, noble reasons. Well, minus the fun. That part's just for me."
"It's a bad idea," he deadpans. "I think you should drop out, Mic."
"What? Why?" he asks. His eyes widen with concern.
"Because you have to either be coerced into doing this, or a snob to volunteer," he explains.
His answer seems to spark frustration. Hizashi puffs his cheeks out — which Shouta guiltily thinks looks cuter than it should — before exhaling dramatically. "Are you serious, or are you just messing with me? You really think that?" Hizashi bites back.
Shouta can see his friend start to tense up, ready to get defensive and dig his heels in. They've squabbled over sillier situations Hizashi naively put himself through in the past. He doesn't want this to be another thing for them to fuss over.
Shouta presses his lips together and crosses his arms. He's not in the mood to argue, but he also doesn't have an answer that ultimately doesn't boil down to him being selfish.
He's had feelings for Hizashi for an embarrassingly long time. The thought of his best friend wrapping his arm around someone's shoulders or waist, or the potential for it to escalate further into a show of affection to appease the contest winner makes his stomach twist uncomfortably.
Except, he doesn't have any sort of claim on Hizashi. They're just friends.
Ultimately, he settles on a more reasonable complaint. "You shouldn't date fans. Nothing good ever happens when—"
Hizashi cuts him off with a sharp laugh.
"Is that what this is all about? Chill, man. Nothing's gonna come out of it. It's supposed to be a fun, light-hearted thing, and I'm sure whoever wins will understand that," Hizashi says, patting him on his back. As an afterthought, he throws in, "Besides, there's no need to worry. I'm not, uh, looking."
Shouta waits expectantly for him to offer more, but he doesn't elaborate. It's odd — normally, Hizashi would talk his ear off, dive into explanations that he doesn't really need or care about, yet he doesn't offer one this time. He just keeps looking at Shouta with this out-of-place, melancholy expression that he can't quite figure out.
"Ah," is all Shouta is able to manage.
He thinks he's missing something, but it's hard to dig into that train of thought as Hizashi's hand slides to rest on his shoulder. His hand lingers in a way that's become all too familiar; he offers a sincere smile as his thumb massages a soothing circle along his shoulder blade, and his touch eases the tension in Shouta's muscles and forces his shoulders to slump.
"I do appreciate you caring about me, though. Good to know you're always looking out for me," he says softly.
And– well, that makes him feel better. Hizashi is right. The date won't mean anything. It'll be fun, light-hearted. Nothing to worry about. Despite how obvious that is, despite Hizashi's attempt at placating him, Shouta's mind still takes one more jab, spinning into a series of what-if's. What if Hizashi finds someone he has chemistry with through this, what if whoever is selected wins not only wins the contest, but Hizashi's heart?
What if he has to face the realization that he's lost his chance a long time ago?
He shoves down the dread and focuses on the more likely reality: Present Mic will have a starstruck fan swooning over him for a night, they'll take some pictures which will be all over the news, Shouta will make it a point to avoid all tabloid-esque media like the plague for several weeks, but then life will go back to normal.
Normal, a word that seems to encapsulate so much. Spending most of their free time together even if that boils down to enjoying their own separate hobbies in parallel, as well as smaller things like how they can talk about anything, or make it a priority to eat most of their meals in each other's company. Normal, where they're just best friends, nothing more.
"Right," Shouta says quietly. "Just keeping an eye out for my friend."
Hizashi smiles, and that's all it takes to make his rough exterior flake away and his insides melt into something gooey and soft.
"Anyway, don't be such a buzzkill, Eraser," Hizashi chides.
He playfully locks his arm around Shouta's neck, yanking him down. Hizashi takes the opening it provides to ruffle his messy hair. The tension dissolves and Shouta huffs, instinctively wrestling the arm off and gently shoving Hizashi away.
"I'm not a buzzkill." It lacks any real bite, coming out kind of soft and pouty. Hizashi coos fondly at him and he tilts his head into his scarf to hide the inevitable blush that summons itself on his cheeks.
"If you say so. Anyway, you better get to your class. Can't leave your little gaggle alone for too long or they'll get rowdy, and the only thing worse than an antsy audience is a riled-up mob."
Hizashi playfully flicks Shouta's forehead, and before he can grumble out any more protests, he sidesteps Shouta and slides past him. Shouta keeps his gaze glued to his friend and watches him whistle cheerfully as he strides down the hallway. Before he turns around the corner, Hizashi looks back and meets his gaze one more time.
"Anyway, I'll see you at lunch, Eraser," he says. Hizashi shoots up a finger gun, winks, and disappears around the corner.
Whoever gets that date with Hizashi — with Present Mic— is the luckiest person alive, Shouta thinks.
Shouta stops by a convenience store after his patrol to pick up some soju. The store is denser packed than typical for the time of day, but maybe it's the location he's picked. He tucks the drink in his arms and takes his place in line, where he realizes pretty quickly that the bottleneck is the checkout. He taps his foot impatiently, and after moving up only a step after two minutes, he succumbs to temptation and grabs a pack of licorice.
Twelve minutes later, when it's finally his turn, he understands what the hold-up is. He somehow ended up in one of the participating locations for the Safety Commission's gala.
A garish, vibrant display sits atop the checkout counter, hosting rows of postcards which feature a specific hero bachelor or bachelorette. It's as tasteless as the contest it represents, he thinks as he wearily eyes it.
The Safety Commission made sure to arrange everything in an almost scientific manner; they focused the top-ranked heroes in eye-catching spots along the center rows. All Might, of course, is dead center. Surrounded by action lines and vibrant red and blue half-tones, they know the crowd he'll inevitably pull, going as far as to dedicate an entire two rows and eight stacks of postcards. Each pile of cards showcases a photograph of him, ranging from the height of his career as well as a more recent candid picture of him post-retirement.
Even Hawks and Ryukyu are dwarfed in comparison to All Might, with each of them having a single row dedicated to them, totalling four unique postcards per, yet it fairs worse for the other participating heroes. It seems the Safety Commission deemed the rest of the heroes only worthy of one spot for their postcards.
He scans the rest of the lineup and finally spots Present Mic in the middle of the bottom row. He picks up the card and tries to ignore the warmth that creeps in his cheeks.
Maybe he is biased, but Shouta has always thought Hizashi deserves more recognition than he gets. Sure, he is loud and a little over the top, but he is also driven, hardworking, and pushes himself more than some of the other higher-ranked heroes. He finds worth in more ways than his hero work – on top of his patrols and mission work, he's helping teach the next generation of heroes and finding joy for himself and others with his radio talk show. It's criminal he only gets a single spot.
Shouta absentmindedly scratches his thumb along the corner of the postcard.
Hizashi is actually doing this, isn't he? He's going to go on a date with someone who will have essentially bought his attention.
The reality sets in as Shouta stares at the eye-catching picture of Present Mic, and he hates that it's such a good picture, too. Hizashi's in his hero costume, but there's no trace of hair gel, instead opting to let his hair drape loosely along his shoulder in a fluffy braid. His sunglasses are set lower on his nose, and his emerald green eyes seem to stare right at Shouta. His smile is toned down into more of a playful smirk, and Shouta matches it with a quaint smile of his own.
He settles on buying one. Just to have a nice photo of his friend, he tells himself.
"How much is it?" he asks the cashier.
She sighs in a way that hints she's heard and answered this question at least a dozen times today and taps her finger at the display's top corner where ¥500 is printed in red, bold lettering.
That's it?
Granted, they can buy as many as they want, but five hundred yen allows anyone to think they have a chance, no matter how minuscule that chance is. And the prize, all things considered, is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for most people. It's rare for heroes to go out with civilians; most heroes — especially the higher renowned ones — prefer to date other heroes or the occasional celebrity.
He wonders if he can be lumped into that category. Maybe he's in his own category; he's fond of the Present Mic persona, but ultimately his interest lies in dating Hizashi. But asking out his best friend now, after fifteen years of helplessly pining, seems out of the question.
Would winning a date with Present Mic be more pitiful?
He's pretty sure the likelihood of winning with a single entry is slim.
So Shouta grabs a handful. Actually, it's more than a handful. Maybe too many. If someone bought this many entries for a chance to date him, he would be livid, and would probably assume they were some erratic, disturbed fan. He swallows his pride and hesitates for a moment before throwing the stack on the counter.
Self-loathing be damned, it's for a chance at something more with Hizashi.
And if he wins — which is extremely unlikely — and Hizashi freaks out, he can just say that he bought a card to support his friend and that he was very, very lucky.
"Is he your favorite hero?" she asks as she rings up his drink and candy and starts to count out the postcards.
"Uh. You could say that."
"Mine is Mirko. Shame she's not an option," she laments. Her eyes flick up and down, noting his hero costume, before (very deliberately, Shouta notes) thinking out loud, "Wonder how they decide on the heroes for this."
"They asked for volunteers," he snorts, and looks back at the gala display and thinks maybe he needs a few more, for better odds. He impulsively reaches for more Present Mic postcards. "Mirko wouldn't do this promotional bullshit unless you told her she could fight her date."
"God, I'd let her fight me, if that's what it took. I mean, her thighs alone—" the cashier trails off, and her abrasive attitude towards him is forgotten as she regards Shouta with a newfound interest. "Wait, do you know her?"
Shouta offers her no answer and instead stays quiet as he fiddles with the display's stack. He runs his thumb along their edges, continuing his series of impulsive purchases for tonight, he caves in. He grabs the entire Present Mic stack from the display and piles it neatly on the counter.
"Wow, don't think I've seen anyone buy this many," the cashier says after a beat, gawking at him.
He ignores the annoyed grumbling from a customer behind him.
"Well, it's all going to a good cause, right?" Shouta mutters, gritting his teeth.
"Yeah, I guess..." She yawns and starts counting the cards. "But like, I don't think I've even seen anyone this desperate for a chance at Hawks, and trust me, I've seen a lot. You must really like Present Mic."
Shouta glances at the display one more time. While each of Hawks' stacks have been picked from, none of them are empty.
Maybe he's bought too many entries, but it seems too late to back out now. Shouta pulls his capture scarf a little higher. He's pretty sure his face is beet red by the time she tells him his total. He drops the yen on the counter, gathers his bounty, and shuffles out the store before anyone else can offer him their opinion.