Six weeks since she'd joined the agency.
Rank 87.
She'd climbed four spots in two weeks. Small jumps. Steady. The algorithm liked consistency. Liked showing up. Liked being where the work was.
She was where the work was.
Every day.
Sometimes twice a day.
Kamiko had started calling her a machine. Not unkindly. Just observationally. The way Kamiko said most things.
Hana had started leaving her coffee on her desk in the mornings without being asked.
The sidekicks she'd never spoken to on her first day now nodded when she passed them in the hallway.
Small things.
But things.
She was becoming part of the furniture.
Which was either good or bad depending on how she looked at it.
The morning briefing was at seven.
She was there at 6:50.
Bakugo arrived at exactly seven. Not a second before or after. Like he'd calibrated himself to the clock.
He ran the briefing. Standard. Patrol assignments. Two ongoing cases that needed follow-up. A joint operation next month that was still in planning stages.
She listened.
Took notes.
Didn't stare.
Mostly didn't stare.
Forty percent didn't stare.
It had been two weeks since the ramen.
He hadn't mentioned it.
She hadn't mentioned it.
It existed in this strange space between them. This thing that had happened that was objectively nothing—just two heroes on a night shift eating because they were hungry—but felt like something every time she thought about it.
Which was often.
Too often.
You're better than you think.
She'd replayed it approximately four hundred times.
She'd also replayed the lamppost incident approximately four hundred times. But for different reasons.
The briefing ended.
People started filing out.
"Tsukino. Stay."
She stayed.
The room emptied.
Just her and Bakugo and the projection map still glowing on the wall.
He leaned against the table. Arms crossed.
Looked at her.
She waited.
"Lemillion Agency," he said.
"What about it?"
"I need someone to go over there. We've got a joint case—missing persons thing. Low-level but Togata wants a face-to-face debrief rather than digital. Something about information security."
She nodded.
"Normally I'd send Kirishima. But he's tied up with the Hosu follow-up."
"Okay."
"So you're going."
She blinked.
"To Lemillion Agency."
"Yes."
"To debrief with the number one hero."
"He's not scary. He's just Togata." Something crossed Bakugo's face. Briefly. "Don't let him be weird at you. He's friendly in an annoying way. Just stay professional and get the information."
"Okay."
"You'll have company. Pinky's subbing in for Kirishima on the social side. She knows Togata from before. She'll handle the pleasantries."
Mina Ashido.
She knew of her. Obviously she knew of her. Everyone knew of her. Former Class 1-A. Acid quirk. Currently ranked 22. One of Bakugo's oldest friends by all accounts.
She'd seen her around the agency a few times. Never worked with her directly.
"When?" Amaya asked.
"Tomorrow. Ten AM." He pushed off the table. Grabbed his coffee mug. "Dress professional. Lemillion's agency is formal. Don't wear the hoodie."
"I don't wear the hoodie on—"
"Don't wear the hoodie."
"I wasn't going to—"
"Good." He walked toward the door. "Report back to me directly when you're done. Not Hana. Me."
He left.
She stood there.
In the empty conference room.
The projection map still glowing.
He'd assigned her to represent the agency.
Not a senior hero. Not Kamiko.
Her.
Rank 87.
At the number one hero's agency.
She sat down.
Breathed.
Okay.
Okay fine.
She could do this.
That afternoon Tanaka Yuki was in the building for three hours.
Amaya knew because she could track it.
Not deliberately.
Just. The way you noticed things in a building you spent twelve hours a day in.
Yuki arrived at two. Went straight to the top floor. Her heels on the marble were audible from the operations floor.
Click. Click. Click.
She had a very particular walk.
Confident. Rhythmic.
Amaya hated that she recognized the sound.
She focused on her incident report.
Typed the same sentence three times.
Deleted it three times.
At three PM she went to the break room for coffee.
Came back.
Walked past the elevator just as the doors opened.
Yuki stepped out.
Bakugo behind her.
They were talking.
He was listening.
She had one hand on his arm.
Showing him something on her phone with the other.
He looked at the screen. Said something. She laughed.
Amaya kept walking.
Eyes forward.
Incident report.
She sat down at her desk.
Opened her laptop.
Her hands were very still on the keyboard.
Very deliberate.
Completely calm.
She typed the incident report.
All the way through.
Submitted it.
Did not look at the elevator.
Did not look at wherever they'd gone.
Did not think about Yuki's hand on his arm.
Did not think about the laugh.
Nope.
She was professional.
Focused.
Rank 87.
Going to Lemillion Agency tomorrow.
That was what mattered.
She opened a new document.
Started preparing talking points for the debrief.
Her jaw was very slightly tight.
She relaxed it.
Typed.
That evening she went home.
Made real food.
Actual food with multiple ingredients.
She was celebrating. Internally. Being assigned something real. Something that mattered.
Pasta. With sauce from a jar, but still. Multiple steps involved.
She ate at the table instead of the couch.
Like an adult.
Her phone was face-up.
Fan club chat was active.
Someone had posted a new photo. Bakugo leaving the agency at eight PM. Same coffee-stained shirt from last week. Different jacket.
He was still wearing the stained shirt.
She stared at the photo.
Her pasta cooled.
He was still wearing the shirt she'd ruined.
That meant—
Nothing.
It meant nothing.
It was just a shirt.
Maybe he hadn't washed it yet.
Maybe he didn't care about clothing.
Maybe it just hadn't occurred to him to change it.
She ate her pasta.
Looked at the photo again.
Put her phone down.
Picked it back up.
Zoomed in on the stain.
Yep.
Still there.
She put her phone face-down.
Finished eating.
Washed her dish.
Stood at the sink.
Stared out the small window at the building opposite.
She was reading too much into a shirt.
She was absolutely reading too much into a shirt.
She went to bed early.
Lay in the dark.
Thought about tomorrow.
Lemillion Agency.
Mirio Togata.
Mina Ashido.
Something about getting out of the building felt good. Getting a wider perspective. Seeing how other agencies operated. How the number one hero ran things.
She was looking forward to it.
She was also thinking about Yuki's hand on his arm.
The laugh.
The click of heels on marble.
Her chest was doing the tight thing again.
The angry tight.
Not the other one.
The jealous one.
She hated it.
She picked up the plushie.
Looked at it.
"Do you think she's pretty?" she asked it.
The plushie was silent.
"She's pretty," Amaya confirmed. "She's very pretty and she's good at her job and she makes you laugh and I hate her."
She didn't hate her.
She didn't even know her.
But she hated the proximity. The access. The way she existed in his world so naturally. Like she'd always been there. Like she belonged.
"She probably doesn't have grenade underwear," Amaya told the plushie.
Silence.
"She definitely doesn't have a plushie of you."
Silence.
"She's probably very mature and professional and her apartment is probably clean and she probably doesn't eat pasta alone at nine PM."
Silence.
"I hate this."
She put the plushie down.
Stared at the ceiling.
Rank 87.
Tomorrow she was representing Bakugo's agency at the number one hero's office.
He'd chosen her.
Not Yuki.
Not Kamiko.
Her.
Maybe that meant something.
Probably it just meant Kirishima was busy.
But maybe.
...
She closed her eyes.
Tried to sleep.
Spent forty minutes thinking about a coffee-stained shirt instead.
Eventually she slept.
Dreamed about ramen and lamposts and the color of the sky at four AM.
Woke up.
Got dressed.
No hoodie.
She arrived at the agency at 9:30.
Mina Ashido was already in the lobby.
Amaya had seen her from a distance before. In person she was—
A lot.
In the best way.
Pink skin. Black sclera. Yellow eyes. She was in civilian clothes—bright orange jacket, jeans, boots with heels she somehow made look effortless. Her hair was loose. She was on her phone, laughing at something.
She looked up when Amaya walked in.
Her face went from laughing to openly delighted in about half a second.
"Amethyst!" She said it like they were old friends. "Oh good, you're early. I'm early too which literally never happens but Kiri told me to be on time and I figured early was safer."
"Kirishima told you?"
"He texts me like a worried parent when I'm covering for him. It's adorable." She slipped her phone into her pocket. Looked Amaya up and down. "Oh I like your outfit. Very professional. Bakugo told you to dress up didn't he."
"He mentioned it."
"He texted me three times last night about it." She lowered her voice conspiratorially. "He cares way more about impressions than he admits. Don't tell him I said that."
Amaya filed that away.
"Ready?" Mina asked.
"Yeah."
"Great. Let's go see the world's most aggressively cheerful man." She headed for the door. "Fair warning. Mirio is a lot. Like. A lot a lot. But he's genuinely wonderful so just go with it."
They walked out together.
Into the morning.
Amaya glanced back at the building.
Somewhere up there Bakugo was probably already deep in paperwork or training or yelling at someone.
She turned forward.
Kept walking.
"So," Mina said conversationally. "How are you finding the agency?"
"Good. Really good."
"Bakugo's a good boss?"
She considered the question carefully.
"He's a good director," she said.
Mina grinned.
Something knowing in it.
"Yeah," she said. "He is."
They walked toward the train station.
The morning was crisp. Clear. The kind of autumn day that almost made you forget winter was coming.
Amaya breathed it in.
Rank 87.
Representing the agency.
Walking next to one of the most accomplished heroes of the post-war generation.
Going to meet the number one hero.
She was building something.
Slowly. Imperfectly. With too much yearning and not enough sleep.
But building.
...
That was enough.
For now.