Two weeks later.
The agency was packed.
Not with villains. Not with an emergency.
With heroes.
And not just any heroes.
The reception area had at least fifteen people in it when Amaya arrived for her shift. Sidekicks from other agencies. A few pros she recognized from TV. Someone from the commission. A news crew trying to get inside before security kicked them out.
The noise was immediate. Overwhelming.
She pushed through to the elevator. Pressed the button. Waited.
Someone behind her was talking.
"—heard he's consulting on the new support tech—"
"—makes sense, he's been testing it for months—"
"—can't believe Bakugo actually agreed to collaborate—"
The elevator opened.
She got in.
Pressed the button for the operations floor.
The doors closed.
Silence.
She leaned against the wall.
Her right hand was still in the brace. Two weeks of wearing it. The pain was mostly gone. Just a dull ache when she overused it. The doctor said she could stop wearing it next week.
She was going to keep wearing it anyway.
Just to be sure.
The elevator dinged.
Operations floor.
The doors opened.
More people.
The floor was never this full. Even during shift change. There were at least thirty heroes here. Some in costume. Some in street clothes. All of them clustered in groups. Talking. Laughing.
The energy was different.
Excited.
She scanned the room.
Looking for—
There.
Near the windows.
Bakugo.
And next to him—
Izuku Midoriya.
Deku.
The number two hero.
The quirkless teacher who came back. Who climbed the rankings in four months. Who fought All For One and Shigaraki and lived.
He looked... normal.
Shorter than she expected. Maybe 5'6". Messy green hair. Freckles. That suit everyone had been talking about—the support armor that let him fight without One For All. It looked less bulky in person. Sleeker. Form-fitting.
He was smiling.
Talking to Bakugo about something.
Bakugo wasn't scowling.
Not smiling. But not scowling either.
Just listening.
Actually listening.
Amaya stood there.
Watching.
She'd seen Deku before. On TV. In news footage. In the recordings of the war. But seeing him in person was—
Different.
He had this energy. This presence. Not overwhelming like Bakugo's. Not intimidating.
Just... warm.
Like standing near him made you feel safer.
She understood why people loved him.
Why he'd been number one for so long before he retired. Why everyone had cried when he came back.
He turned slightly.
Their eyes met.
He paused mid-sentence.
Looked at her.
Then his face lit up.
"Oh!"
He said it loud enough that several people turned.
He walked over.
Bakugo followed. Looking annoyed. But he followed.
Deku stopped in front of her.
Extended his hand.
"You're from U.A., right? Class 1-A freshman year when I was graduating?"
She blinked.
He remembered her?
"Uh. Yeah."
"Tsukino Amaya. Crystal manipulation quirk. Emitter-class with heteromorphic properties in the formation structure."
What.
"You sat three rows behind me at the graduation ceremony. You had purple accents in your hair. I remember because I was cataloging quirks and yours was really interesting—the way you can alter the molecular density of the crystals mid-formation is super rare for emitter types. Most crystal quirks are either transformation-based or they're fixed-density emitters but yours has variable control which suggests a really high level of conscious quirk factor modulation—"
He was talking fast.
Really fast.
Like he couldn't help himself.
"Deku." Bakugo's voice. Flat. "You're doing the thing."
"What thing?"
"The quirk nerd thing."
"I'm not—" Deku paused. Looked at Amaya. "Sorry. I do that sometimes. Get excited about quirks. It's a bad habit."
"It's not—it's fine."
"Are you working here now?" He looked genuinely interested. "I saw your name on the last operation report Bakugo sent over. The trafficking raid. You were on Alpha team."
"Yeah."
"How was it? Working with Kacchan?"
Kacchan.
He'd just called Bakugo Kacchan.
Out loud.
In public.
And Bakugo didn't explode.
Just rolled his eyes.
"It was good," Amaya said. "He's... good."
Helpful. Very helpful.
Deku grinned. "He's the best. Don't let him tell you otherwise. He pretends he doesn't care but he's actually really invested in his team."
"Shut up, Deku."
"See? Defensive. That means I'm right."
Bakugo looked at Amaya. "Don't listen to him. He's been annoying for fifteen years. It doesn't stop."
"Rude," Deku said. But he was still smiling.
There was something about watching them.
The way they talked to each other. Like brothers. Like people who'd been through hell together and came out the other side still standing.
Still friends.
It made her chest feel... something.
Warm. And tight. At the same time.
"Anyway," Deku said. "It's good to see you again. I'm glad you ended up somewhere solid. Bakugo runs a good agency."
"Best agency," Bakugo corrected.
"Right. Best agency. My mistake."
Someone called Deku's name from across the room.
He turned. Waved. Looked back at Amaya.
"I should—sorry. I'm supposed to be reviewing the new support specs with the engineering team. But it was really nice seeing you."
"You too."
He walked away.
Bakugo stayed.
Looked at her.
"You good?"
"Yeah. Just... surprised."
"That he remembered you?"
"Yeah."
"He remembers everyone." Bakugo's voice was matter-of-fact. "It's annoying. He's got notebooks full of people he's met once. Their quirks. Their fighting styles. Everything."
"That's... actually kind of impressive."
"It's creepy."
But he said it without heat.
Almost... fond.
Amaya had never heard him sound fond.
"You're on patrol today," Bakugo said. "Zone 5. With Kamiko. Standard route."
"Got it."
He started to walk away.
Stopped.
Turned back.
"Your hand. How is it?"
She lifted her right hand. The brace was still on.
"Better. Almost healed."
"Good."
He left.
Amaya stood there.
Trying to process what had just happened.
Deku had recognized her.
From one graduation ceremony.
Three years ago.
Had cataloged her quirk.
Remembered her hair.
Remembered where she'd been sitting.
It was... weird.
But also kind of nice?
To be remembered.
To be seen.
Even if it was just because he was obsessive about quirks.
She walked to the locker room.
Changed into her costume.
The noise from the operations floor was still audible through the walls.
She wondered how long Deku was staying.
Wondered if he and Bakugo worked together often.
Wondered what it was like.
Being friends with someone for fifteen years.
Going through what they'd gone through.
And still standing next to each other.
Still choosing each other.
There was something about that.
Something she wanted.
Not the romance.
Just... the certainty.
The knowing that someone would show up.
Would be there.
No matter what.
Patrol was quiet.
Kamiko didn't talk much. Just walked. Watched.
They stopped for coffee halfway through.
Sat on a bench.
"Deku's visiting," Kamiko said.
"Yeah."
"He does that sometimes. Comes by to consult. He and Bakugo are working on some new support tech project. Something about integrating quirk-assist systems with combat armor."
"Makes sense."
"They're close," Kamiko added. "Known each other since they were kids. Went to U.A. together. Fought in the war together."
Amaya nodded.
She knew all that.
Everyone knew that.
"It's good," Kamiko said. "Having people like that. People who've been through it with you."
"Yeah."
They finished their coffee.
Continued the patrol.
Nothing happened.
No incidents. No emergencies.
Just walking.
Watching.
Being present.
When they got back to the agency, Deku was leaving.
He waved at them. Called out a goodbye to Bakugo.
Bakugo just grunted.
But he watched Deku leave.
Stayed watching until he was out of sight.
Amaya saw it.
The way his expression softened.
Just for a second.
Before going back to the usual scowl.
She'd never seen him look at anyone like that.
Like he cared.
Like it mattered that they were leaving.
She wondered what that felt like.
To be cared about by someone like Bakugo.
Someone who didn't show it.
Didn't say it.
But felt it anyway.
...
She wondered if she'd ever know.
That night she lay in bed.
Staring at the ceiling.
Thinking about Deku.
About the way he'd remembered her.
Cataloged her quirk.
Smiled at her like she mattered.
Even though she was nobody.
Just a rank 91 hero who'd sat behind him once three years ago.
It was nice.
Being remembered.
But it wasn't what she wanted.
What she wanted was—
She looked at the plushie.
Still on the pillow.
Still ridiculous.
Still hers.
She picked it up.
Held it.
Thought about the way Bakugo had asked about her hand.
The way he'd noticed.
The way he kept noticing.
It probably didn't mean anything.
Just him being a good boss.
Caring about his team.
Making sure they were operational.
But still.
He noticed.
And maybe that was enough.
For now.
...
Maybe.