#* blake: thread.

That automatically makes it better, the villain repeats to himself in his thoughts, lips quirking up at the corners until there’s a big, warm smile lighting up his face. It doesn’t matter that Blake can’t see it; he doesn’t have to, Izuku is sure of it. They can long understand each other without words.

They truly do, and that’s why he doesn’t feel bad when he seems to ignore the other’s comment about local cuisine. It’s not like it’s untrue, and Blake did say that Izuku already knows that, after all. “Yeah,” he hums after a moment, feeling that small pang of guilt still forcing him to say something in the end. “You don’t seem like you hate it, though, or you would be relying on different foods much more.

The corners of his lips turn down slightly in confusion. “Why... would I hate seasoned food?” he asks, the question more of a statement than anything. “I grew up with food that the smell alone from the spices would kill a small victorian child.” Of course, he was talking about his grandparent’s recipes they had brought from India, and his own mother’s cooking from her travels. A thought passes through his head, causing him to chuckle quietly. That thought was for a different time. 

Of course the yakuza would choose a warehouse to do their business. It was both incospicuous and right in front of everyone. The goons that hung out around the building were guards- or at least they were supposed to be. In his mind, they were nothing more than petty ants that followed orders. They allegedly had a bite as bad as their bark. That was a threat that he blatantly ignored.

There was no attempt to be sneaky as he walked up to the guards, gloved hands slowly pulling out a staff. The threats for him to leave “or else” rolled off his back as quick as he attacked. Small bursts of light to blind them, followed by the steel rod hitting hard enough to break bones. There was no real need to crush their skulls, but he wanted to have a bit of fun. It was when he walked into the building that he realized the fun was really about to begin. He used the same blinding technique as before, but mingled together the use of his staff and physical assults.

As the last goon fell, he decided it would be nice to bring the leader of the yakuza a little gift. He truly didn’t mind the drag marks of blood as heavy feet walked towards distant talking. It was when he saw the green haired villain that he cleared his throat. He made sure he had Usagi’s attention before he effortlessly tossed the bloodied body over, brown eyes never leaving the leader. The voice that came through his mask was mechanical, yet somehow showed a sick happiness.

The holidays were always celebrated in his family, so Blake cherished any alone time he could spend with Izuku.

He offered a neatly wrapped package, a small smile on his face. He knew inside there were dainty, sun shaped earrings along with a ring lined with small yellow stones.

It really felt like the same muggers were after him every week. They didn’t even know what they were after, only that he had some metal in his bag that they wanted. Despite him giving them the regular warning, they ignored it. There was a heavy sigh as he braced himself for the fight, a bored look on his face. 

He had just ended the fight when he heard movement behind him, turning to look at the stranger. Blake runs a bloodied hand through his hair as he examines the man, an eyebrow raising. The green haired man didn’t seem like a threat. If he was, he would’ve attacked already. After making his decision on the lack of threat, Blake leaned over to pick up his bag, tossing it over his shoulder effortlessly.

     “If you saw any of that... you didn’t.”

He pauses for a second to look at the unconscious men laid around in the dirt. This definitely could ruin his “good-guy” reputation. He looks back to the stranger, his free hand being propped up on his hip.

Yeah, Blake had gotten his ass handed to him. He was just a little bloody and hurt. Was he proud? No, not at all. A part of him was glad their fights weren’t one sided, though. Shit still hurts.

He was perfectly fine laying splayed out on the ground, his eyes closed. As he heard Izuku come closer, he pried a blue eye open to look at him. He wanted to give the other the silent treatment, but it only turned into a wheeze of a laugh. A bruised hand patted the ground next to him, his eye closing.

Blake had heard that he now went to school with his childhood friend. He hadn’t let Todoroki know that he moved to Japan, wanting to surprise him. It had been months before he saw a boy with red-white hair. He was quiet as he sneaked up behind him before tapping his shoulder. Blake hoped his friend would still recognize him despite the newly acquired scars. It would be embarassing if he didn’t.

To say he had nearly bust down the door was an understatement, if anything, he might’ve left a dent. His eyes were wide and he panted as if he had been running. He could replace the door, but he couldn’t replace the fact that he was dumb.

It was an easy day, though he was a bit tired. He already held his staff in his hand in when he entered the building. The way he held it showed that he didn't feel like swinging. They always ended up fighting, but there was no reason for him to be combative right off the get go. Then again, he also didn't know where the villain was.