Ari!! 🤍

e liked autumn best because summer was a busy time for him as a pro hero and winter felt too lonely after all the holidays passed, so it was the "good in-betweener". his words. also— he was a sucker for halloween. he told you that his mother sent him home with enough containers of homemade curry to feed him and all the people he knew, which made you giggle at the mental image. he has two sisters, one younger and one older. he says he's never felt like the middle child a day in his life because they all have such a close bond. his family must be really sweet based on the way he detailed endearing memories of them, you think.

letters made you both say whatever was on your minds and then forget about it for a few days. it was mildly inconvenient, at worst. honestly, it was a little stupid given that you both lived in the same city with perfectly functioning phones. which was exactly why you ruined it by asking for his number. it was the end of letter eighteen (or twenty, you weren't sure). the ache in your wrist from annotating case law made the idea of texting feel nearly seductive.

his response arrived three days later like clockwork. you sat at your desk, unfolded the letter, and immediately got to reading.

you reread his letter a couple times, giggling at his doodles. 

"cute." you said to yourself, trying not to smile.

there was something so boyish about the way he wrote to you that you couldn't help it. he was a pro hero, which should have made him intimidating in theory. he was trained to fight villains, handle disasters, and probably lift cars or something equally horrifying. yet here he was passionately defending the beauty of sending letters back and forth. truly acting like the top ambassador of snail mail.

the worst part was that he was right. you had expected to feel a little disappointed by the refusal, but it was more like being reminded that the strange rhythm you had with him existed because it was this way. texting would make everything too akin to a casual talking stage. oh god. you already were getting ahead of yourself. the smile that was on your lips falters a little. 

neither of you had even defined this relationship you had. you trace the part of the letter with your finger… lawyer pen pal. 

as swoon-worthy as the entire situation was to you, you weren't too keen on getting ahead of yourself and misreading his intentions. lots of rejection and over-romanticization has taught you well and good over the years. despite that, it was hard to ignore the feeling in the pit of your stomach. you had told him things you hadn't told people you've known for forever. you shake the thoughts away.

you set the letter among the others in the old stationary box on your desk. the stack of cream envelopes inside was getting thick enough that you had to press the lid down a little harder to close it.

instead of responding, you forced yourself to shower and review more documents before bed because kami's case was unfortunately not going to be solved by you contemplating e's purely-platonic messages. 

when you finally crawled under your covers and stared up at your ceiling, tired as can be, your mind betrays you by drifting back to the anonymous pro hero. you were curious about what he looked like. you could deduce as an employed and self-proclaimed busy bee at his work, he's probably rather built. maybe tall, but you didn't care neither here nor there. mostly, you simply wondered what color his eyes were. back in your school days, a ton of your crushes had pretty eyes; your kryptonite.

but why would it matter—you didn't have a crush on him, so why were you thinking about it? you brushed off the daydream train as soon as it came. stop fawning over your pen pal's potentially mesmerizing eyes! you turned over in your bed with a small embarrassed huff to no one in particular.

you hesitated to sign it as you usually did after your mental spiral about his intentions with writing you. mystery girl made no sense anyways; you doubt many quirkless women with your name were lawyers in musutafu. 

his friends had ended up at kirishima's apartment after patrol, occupying nearly every available seat. bakugou had made the dinner that was slowly disappearing across kirishima's dining table. "someone's in love central."

he looked up. denki was pointing at him with his chopsticks.

"what? no."

"you're thinking about miss lawyer. i can feel it." sero snorts. "where, in your balls?" denki shoots a withered look towards him. "you're so weird, man."

kirishima rolled his eyes, reaching for another piece of grilled meat. "i was thinking about work, not her."

"liar," denki said immediately. "you've got the face."

"... what face?"

without looking up from her plate, mina chimed in. "it's the letter face."

bakugou clicked his tongue. "you idiots gave it a name?" 

mina nodded matter-of-fact-ly. kirishima's face pulled into a deadpan. "the what?"

"the letter face!" she finally looked at him. "you get all spacey and woo-woo, it's obvious you're thinking about your loooove letters." 

"i do not get all woo-woo!"

"you do," sero agreed.

kirishima gave up trying to defend himself. there was no point once they collectively decided on something. he reached for his drink instead, opting for silence.

"so," denki said. "what was her last letter about?" mina slaps him upside the head. "you can't ask him about his private stuff like that!" slowly, mina gives kirishima a curious grin. "but really… what did she write?"

kirishima rolled his eyes. "it was a lot of stuff about her private life, but she did ask me to trade numbers."

every conversation around the table stopped.

"...and?" mina asked. "i said i'd rather keep writing." sero and denki groan in unison.

bakugou nodded once. "good. no need for some random fangirl to leak your phone number to the internet." kirishima frowned. "she is most definitely not a fangirl."

"whatever dude. fangirl or not, you could've been texting a hot chick," denki whines.

mina snickers quietly to herself, shaking her head as she picked up her phone. the conversation drifted after that. denki started arguing that kirishima was intentionally making his own life more difficult, while bakugou insisted people survived perfectly fine before smartphones existed. sero contributed absolutely nothing useful beyond occasionally saying "that's crazy," regardless of which side he was pretending to support.

mina wasn't listening anymore. she had absentmindedly opened a browser while everyone argued, your first name still lingering in the back of her mind after seeing it on the envelope earlier. quirk discrimination lawyer, right? it couldn't hurt to see what kind of firm you worked at. her thumb hovered over the screen for a second before she typed. multiple results populated the screen. 

"hmm." nobody heard her, but she went on to the first link. the firm's homepage loaded almost immediately.

"hey, guys."

the conversation continued. she cleared her throat.

"AHEM, guys!"

denki stopped mid-sentence. everyone looked over. mina stared at her phone for another second before lifting her eyes mischievously toward kirishima.

"i think i found her," she says, sing-song like.

kirishima's brain short-circuited for a second. “found who, ‘her’?”

“miss lawyer! it's her, i'm ninety percent sure." mina held the sparkly pink phone up triumphantly. “mina, no.” he didn't move to take it. "you can't just look people up like that."

"she’s super gorgeous, by the way,” mina gushes, delighted at how easy it was. "totally could be a model." kirishima's frown deepened.

"oh my god—no way you're actually mad, are you?”

"i'm not mad, i just think it's weird to go looking for her before she wants me to see her!”

“you’re making it hard for the rest of us dudes, being so chivalrous,” sero said, "and also you’re lame if you aren’t a little curious.”

"i'm being a good person, sero. it's manly."

"you're being annoying," denki corrected, already leaning over mina's shoulder without asking anyone's permission. “c’mon mina, lemme see!”

"denki, move—"

"oh my GOD," denki said, way too loud for the room. “dude. she's so fucking pretty! i'm pissed. how the fuck does a random letter lead to this?!”

"it doesn't matter. she’ll show me when she’s ready.”

"you're the only man in this apartment who's ever turned down a glance at a pretty girl on principle. idiot," bakugou said, still not glancing up from his plate. kirishima's jaw drops at him. bakugo shrugs.

"kiri, even bakugou agrees," mina points.

"tch, i didn't agree with you! i said he's an idiot."

sero, who had clearly decided the debate portion of the evening was over, reached across the table and turned kirishima's whole head toward the phone by the jaw like he was adjusting a mannequin. "there. you've technically already seen it. might as well look properly now."

"you guys are so stubborn.”

“says you. look at the girl.”

his eyes flick to the screen.

it was just a staff photo. stiff, overlit, a photo every firm made its people take. ideally, it should make everyone look a little uglier than they were in person, but there you were: smiling, your eyes crinkling mid-moment, like someone off camera had said something funny right before the shutter clicked.

"yeah," kirishima said. "she's pretty." the table lost it immediately.

"THAT'S IT?" denki looked incredulous. "all you got is 'she's pretty'?"

"what do you want from me!"

"passion. feeling. use more words!"

"i have plenty of words, denki, i'm choosing not to use them right now!"

"veryyyy suspicious," mina said, already smug again.

bakugou ended it the only way he knows how. by chucking a fork at denki's head, enlisting a yelp from the poor blonde. "shut up! fuckin' irritating, the whole bunch of you. i'm eating."

denki rubs his head and sulks. "every single one of you is violent. violent i tell you."

mina slid her phone back into her pocket, entirely unbothered by having been yelled at. "i'm probs gonna find her insta later,"

"mina."

"keyword probably!"

kirishima went back to his food, ears warm, doing a very bad job of looking unbothered. it was going to be really hard to remove the image of you from his mind every time he's writing. he was already too smitten over you without knowing your face.

adjusting your pencil skirt exiting your car, you walk towards the entrance of the bright orange building. yuma told you this morning that fatgum's assistant emailed her back, and that he was ready to have a talk with you. 

you knew he was one of the best pro-heroes of your time. genuinely kind hearted, always involved in charity events and uplifting his fellow heroes. you were glad he was finally in good enough shape to come in to the office, at least. 

heroes and support staff were moving through the lobby like a whirlwind as you entered the complex. you were used to that atmosphere at hero-affiliated businesses. a couple minutes early, you decided to start reading over your notes while you waited at the front desk. suddenly, someone rounds the corner too fast and fully collides into you, knocking the documents out of your hands.

"geez, i'm so sorry!"

you stumbled backward, one heel slipping against the polished floor. you brace for the contact, but a large hand caught your upper arm before you could do so. the man had quick reflexes, whoever he was. "are you okay? i didn't hurt you, did i?" 

"i'm fine," you said automatically, looking down to regain your footing. then you looked up.

pro hero red riot was stood in front of you. arguably one of your favorite heroes but you weren't alone. children loved him. the elderly loved him. based on yuma's opinions, a terrifying number of women online loved him too. he was much larger in person than he appeared on television, which felt unfair considering he already looked particularly massive in interviews. his red hair was pulled away from his face in its usual sharp style, and he was dressed in black agency athletic-wear instead of his costume.

more notably, he looked horrified.

"i really didn't see you there," he continued. "not that you're hard to notice! you're obviously noticeable. i just meant i wasn't looking, which why would i be looking? wait, no—" the man was tripping over his words unlike anything you'd seen from him. wasn't he known to be a really charismatic guy..? oh well, pro-hero pr agents do work harder than the devil.

you blinked. "right."

"your papers!" 

he released your arm as if he had only just realized he was holding you and immediately crouched down. 

you knelt to help him gather the scattered documents, although he was moving with such frantic efficiency that there was barely anything left for you to pick up.

"you don't have to do all that," you told him. 

"no, it was my fault, i got it!"

he reached for one page at the same time you did, and your fingers brushed. red riot jerked his hand back hard enough to hit his elbow against the front desk, an audible thunk. the receptionist looked down at the commotion, mildly amused.

"ow, fuck!" you look at him with a concerned expression. count that the first time you heard red riot curse. "are you okay?" you asked.

"never better!" his voice cracked slightly.

you frowned, staring at him again. he seemed nice enough, if not a little strange. perhaps he was simply terrible around lawyers. then his gaze dropped to the front page of your files. your name and firm were printed clearly beneath the case heading, confirming his beliefs.

"thanks for helping. i wanted to know if you could show me to fatgum's office?"

something almost like understanding passed over his expression, although you couldn't imagine why. before you could question it, the elevator opened across the lobby and a sidekick called his hero name. red riot glanced over his shoulder.

“shoot, i’m sorry. i have to go lead patrol briefing," he said. “but hina will show you where it is.” he took two backward steps, towards the elevators doors. "and sorry again about nearly taking you out!”

you giggle. "i'll recover, big guy."

he smiled then, wide and warm enough that you finally understood some of yuma's ramblings. he does have some nice eyes. you watched him jog toward the elevator, narrowly avoid walking into a potted plant, and disappear behind the closing doors. what a strange man. 

you turned back toward the front desk. hina, the receptionist, was trying very hard not to burst out giggling.

“mr. fatgum is ready for you upstairs. just up and to the left." she said, pointing at the corridor.

you nod. "thank you."

fatgum's office was located on the highest floor of the agency, decorated with photographs, gifts from children, and framed newspaper clippings from his career. the man himself sat behind a wide desk, dressed casually with one arm still supported in a sling. he was in his normal form, a sharp contrast to the usual size of him you saw during villain fights. he looked a little thinner, probably due to the injury rest time.

"thanks for comin' all the way over," he greeted. "sorry i couldn't meet with ya sooner."

you give him a concerned smile. "please don't apologize. i'm glad you're recovering."

he chuckles. "slowly but surely, kid."

you took the seat across from him and opened your case folder. "your assistant mentioned the police returned the equipment."

fatgum's expression sobered. "yeah. they finished collectin' the forensics they needed from it. the thing's pretty torn up, but i figured you'd wanna see it anyways."

he pressed the intercom and asked someone to bring the evidence container in. "before we look at it, i'd like to go over the delivery," you said. "the report says the aegis frame arrived here two days before the accident." 

"that's right."

"who accepted it?"

"one of our support coordinators signed for the shipment, but i picked it up personally later."

you looked down at the report. "from hashima's courier?"

"not exactly." your pen paused.

fatgum leaned back carefully in his chair. "that's the strange part. i was supposed to get it straight from that young engineer that designed it. kami, i think her name was."

you looked up sharply. "but she didn't come."

"right. another email from hashima came the morning of the delivery sayin' the arrangement changed. told me to pick it up from another hashima employee at one of their satellite offices. i've never had to go out to get new equipment before."

a faint uneasiness crawled up your spine.

kami had never mentioned that she was expected to personally deliver the frame. according to her, the equipment had left her department after the final internal inspection. she believed it had gone directly to the agency through the usual shipping process.

"do you still have that email?"

he slid a printed copy across the desk. "my assistant pulled the whole thread for ya."

you scanned the first message. it appeared legitimate, right down to kami's professional signature and employee identification number. it matched the information that kami originally emailed you with her plea as well. so someone was using her credentials.

the second email, however, had been sent from a different internal hashima address. no name, just a jumble of letters and numbers. there was something oddly familiar about it. not the name itself. the department, perhaps. corporate relations and product reinforcement. you made a note beside it.

"did you speak with this employee?"

"briefly. he was a tall fella, dressed real sharp." he leaned towards you. "listen… off the record? the guy seemed like an asshole. he was actin' like he was in a hurry," fatgum recalled. "he said kami had been pulled into an emergency meeting and the team asked him to handle it."

"did he explain why the location changed?"

"nothing of the sort. was really in and out with giving me the gear. do you mind me asking why you're asking me questions if the police are investigating it already?" 

you give him a firm stare. "because i'm a quirk discrimination lawyer, i usually don't trust the initial investigation. i like to collect my own information, if that's okay."

fatgum raises his hands with a simple glance. "hey, i respect it. i'm willing to comply wherever possible."

the office door opened, and an agency member wheeled in a reinforced evidence case. fatgum nodded toward it.

"that's what's left of the frame."

once the latches were released, you stepped closer. the equipment inside hardly resembled the sleek silver structure from kami's blueprints and pictures. several sections had warped inward. the invisible plating had burned into a dark, glass-like substance around the joints, and internal wiring spilled out from the back of the structure. you pulled on the gloves provided by the police.

"which part failed first?"

"the left shoulder mechanism," fatgum explained. "it locked up when i used my quirk. then the chest plating started constricting instead of adjusting with it. the emergency releases didn't respond, and the rest is what everyone saw on the news." you crouched beside the container. something you noted while looking at the documents at home was that kami's original blueprints included three separate release systems. all of them were designed to function independently. even if someone had removed one during manufacturing, the other two should have activated. you examined the damaged control unit more closely. a part of the hardware control panel was blown open.

"was this panel open before the police recovered it?"

"as far as i know."

a row of screws along the edge caught your attention. most were damaged from the accident, the metal scratched and deformed. one was nearly untouched. newer than the others. you leaned closer. it was obvious someone had opened the control panel after the unit left kami assembled it.

"fatgum," you said carefully, "i'm going to need the original email files, not only printouts. the metadata is what i need. i also need security footage time stamps when you left the agency, the name of every employee who knew about the change, and the plate number of the car you used that day."

his face hardened.

"you think the handoff matters?"

"i'm telling you this because i trust you. but i know for a fact that kami didn't send either of these emails." you looked back at the second unfamiliar email. you shut the evidence case.

"and i think whoever gave this to you wanted everyone to believe she did."

fatgum's jaw tightened. "kid, i like you, and i want whoever did this to answer for it. but if what you’re saying is true..."

he reached into one of the folders on his desk and pulled out a business card, scribbling something before sliding it across to you.

"anything you need from my agency, you ask me directly. i don't care how inconvenient it is."

you looked down at the card before slipping it into your folder.

"thank you so much, fatgum."

"please, don't thank me yet." he shook his head. "i have a feeling you're going to need all the help you can get."

the man nods firmly after viewing the entirety of the footage clip. "thank you, hina. please send this to her as soon as you can." the little receptionist had a flash of mischief glimmer in her eyes. "mr. fatgum, can i show you something kinda funny?" 

he looks at her quizzically, but nods anyway. her fingers move rapidly and the time stamp from earlier this afternoon pulls up, where a certain red haired hero runs into you in the agency lobby. fatgum's eyes light up in recognition as he sees the awkward interaction of his second in charge bumbling about, trying to pick up the papers he spilled. 

hina's beside herself in a fit of giggles. "i don't know about you mr. fatgum, but i think kiri has a crush."

"huh. seems so."

guys i want fatgum

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a/n: his ass done got blocked again. he needs to start acting right, bruh🙏 exams whooped my ass, but we ball nonetheless. the next chapter will most likely be a turning point in their relationship. they did seem to be getting somewhere, but i wanted to add a little more angst/fighting before making them like each other, since i felt like it might be too rushed to suddenly make them like each other, yk? taglist is closed, btw!