Lemillion Agency was in Musutafu's commercial district.
Twelve floors. Glass and steel. A massive mural on the side of the building—painted by local artists apparently. Mirio Togata mid-leap. His costume. That enormous grin.
It was very... him.
Even though she'd never met him.
The lobby was bright. Open. Nothing like Bakugo's agency. Where Dynamight Agency was all brushed steel and controlled energy and the constant low-level tension of being somewhere that took itself seriously, this place felt—
Warm.
Plants everywhere. Actual plants. Not decorative fake ones. Real ones. Someone watered them.
The receptionist smiled when they walked in. Genuinely smiled. Not the professional smile that said welcome please sign in and don't touch anything.
"Ashido-san! It's good to see you again."
"Yuki!" Mina leaned against the desk. "You cut your hair. It looks amazing."
The receptionist—different Yuki, thankfully, Amaya's brain noted with petty relief—touched her hair. Pleased. "Thank you. Is this your colleague?"
"Tsukino Amaya. Amethyst. She's with Dynamight Agency."
"Of course. Togata-san is expecting you both. He's on the eighth floor. I'll let him know you're here."
They took the elevator.
Mina was humming something.
"You've been here before?" Amaya asked.
"Tons of times. Mirio and Tamaki and I go way back. Well. I go way back with them through the boys. You know how it is. You spend enough time in the same circles and suddenly you just know everyone."
Amaya didn't know how it was.
She didn't have that. The circles. The history. The shorthand of people who'd been through things together.
She had Emi, who fangirled Shoto. Kenji, who had date nights. Her mother, who texted about food.
She had the fan club chat.
The elevator opened.
Eighth floor.
The hallway was lined with photos. Agency operations. Rescue missions. Group shots. Awards ceremonies.
She slowed slightly. Looking.
Mirio in the field. Younger in some. Older in recent ones. That grin always the same.
A photo of him and Tamaki. Side by side at some formal event. Tamaki looking like he wanted to disappear. Mirio looking like he'd engineered the entire situation to make Tamaki uncomfortable.
A photo of the Big Three. Mirio. Tamaki. Nejire.
And then—
A photo she recognized.
The war era. After. A group shot outside what had been U.A. before the floating fortress thing. Ragged. Tired. But alive.
She found Bakugo immediately.
Of course she did.
Arms crossed. Scowling. Blood on his costume. His hair was a mess.
But he was there.
Standing.
Next to Kirishima. Next to Deku. Next to Todoroki.
All of them alive.
She stared at it for a second too long.
"He always looks like that in photos," Mina said from beside her.
Amaya startled.
Mina was looking at the photo too. Her expression had shifted. Still warm but quieter.
"Even when everything went to shit," Mina continued. "Even at the worst moments. He always looked like he was going to win. Like losing wasn't something he'd allowed as an option."
She said it simply.
Without fanfare.
Like it was just true.
"It must have been—" Amaya stopped.
"Terrifying?" Mina smiled. But not the bright social smile. Something smaller. Realer. "Yeah. It really was."
A door opened at the end of the hallway.
And Mirio Togata walked out.
He was—
The photos didn't capture it.
He was tall. Broad. That specific kind of physical presence that made you understand immediately why he was number one. But it wasn't intimidating the way Bakugo's presence was intimidating.
It was like standing in sunlight.
That was the only way she could describe it.
His grin was enormous.
"Mina!" He crossed the hallway in four strides. Grabbed her in a hug that lifted her slightly off the ground.
"Mirio!" She hugged him back. Laughing.
He set her down. Looked at Amaya.
Extended his hand.
"Tsukino-san. Lemillion. It's good to meet you."
She shook it.
"Amethyst. Thank you for having us."
"Of course! Come in. I've got coffee going and someone brought pastries from that place on the corner—the one with the almond ones, do you like almond? We've got other options if not."
He was already walking back toward the door.
Mina caught Amaya's eye.
Mouthed: told you.
The office was large.
Casual. Organized but not rigid. A conference table that was clearly also used for informal things—someone had left a jacket over one chair. A plant in the corner that had been there long enough to become structural.
Tamaki Amajiki was already there.
Sitting at the far end of the table. He looked up when they came in. Gave a small nod.
"Amajiki-san," Mina said warmly.
"Ashido-san." His voice was quiet. "It's... good to see you."
He looked at Amaya. Brief. "Tsukino-san."
"Amajiki-san."
He went back to his folder.
Mirio poured coffee. Set out the pastries. Sat down across from them with the energy of someone who had genuinely been looking forward to this meeting.
The briefing started.
Professional. Focused. Mirio was different in work mode. Still warm but sharper underneath. He laid out the missing persons case clearly. Overlapping with the trafficking ring from the raid. A secondary network they hadn't dismantled. Smaller. Operational in three different zones.
Tamaki handled the data. Quietly. Efficiently. He was clearly the one who'd done the analytical work.
Amaya took notes. Asked questions when she needed to.
Mirio answered everything directly.
Forty minutes in he looked at her notes.
"You're thorough," he said. Approving. "Bakugo said you were good."
She looked up.
"He said that?"
Mirio grinned. "In Bakugo terms. Which meant he told me your rank had jumped significantly in a short time and your quirk application in the raid was above average. That's basically a sonnet from him."
Mina snorted.
Amaya felt warm.
Unreasonably warm.
She wrote it down in the margins of her notes.
above average.
Then scribbled over it so nobody could see.
The formal part ended around noon.
Mirio called for a break.
Someone produced more coffee. Better coffee.
The atmosphere loosened.
Mina and Mirio fell into easy conversation. The kind built from years. References Amaya didn't fully follow. People she knew by name but not personally.
She sat back slightly.
Listened.
Tamaki moved down the table. Sat closer to her.
She glanced at him.
He was looking at his coffee.
"Your quirk," he said. Quiet. "Crystal manipulation."
"Yeah."
"Variable density?"
"Yeah. I can adjust it mid-formation."
He nodded. Something thoughtful in his expression.
"That's unusual. The conscious modulation. Most emitter types with solid projection are fixed once the formation is set."
"I had a good teacher at U.A. She helped me understand the molecular aspect."
"It shows." He looked at her properly now. Still uncomfortable-seeming but genuinely interested. "Do you find it exhausting? The constant modulation?"
"It was. I have tendonitis in my right hand from it. Getting better now."
"Support gloves?"
"Yeah."
"I had something similar. With Manifest. Overextension." He paused. "It gets better."
Coming from him it meant something.
Coming from one of the most powerful heroes of the previous generation who'd been through more than she could imagine.
It gets better.
"Thanks," she said.
He nodded. Went back to his coffee.
Mina caught her eye across the table.
Raised her eyebrows.
Tamaki talked to you? her expression said.
Amaya shrugged.
Mina mouthed something.
She couldn't read it.
It might have been impressive.
They left at two PM.
Mirio walked them to the elevator.
"Tell Bakugo we should do this in person next time," he said. "He keeps delegating the meetings and I miss his face."
"He'll hate that," Mina said.
"I know. Tell him anyway."
He grinned at Amaya. "It was genuinely good to meet you Tsukino-san. You're going to go far."
She didn't know what to say to that.
"Thank you."
"I mean it. And not just because the quirk is impressive." He said it simply. Honestly. "You ask the right questions. That's rarer than people think."
The elevator opened.
They got in.
Mirio waved.
Grinning.
Always grinning.
The doors closed.
Silence.
Mina exhaled.
"He's exhausting," she said fondly. "In the best possible way."
Amaya leaned against the elevator wall.
Her mind was full.
The case information. The notes. Tamaki's quiet observations. Mirio's grin.
Above average.
You're going to go far.
You ask the right questions.
She looked at the elevator doors.
Her reflection.
Rank 87.
But climbing.
Genuinely climbing.
"Hey," Mina said.
Amaya looked at her.
Mina was watching her with that expression again. The knowing one.
"You're not just here to climb the rankings," Mina said.
It wasn't a question.
Amaya held her gaze.
"What do you mean?"
Mina smiled.
Small. Private.
"Nothing. Just an observation."
The elevator dinged.
Ground floor.
They walked out into the afternoon.
Amaya thought about what she meant.
Didn't ask.
Some things were better left as questions.
Unanswered.
Hanging in the air.
They took the train back.
Mina talked most of the way.
Stories about the agency. About Kirishima. About the early days when they were all just kids who didn't know what they were doing.
Amaya listened.
Genuinely listened.
Not performing attention. Actually present.
This was what she'd wanted.
The circles. The history. The feeling of being somewhere she belonged.
Maybe she was building it.
Slowly. The way she built her crystals. Layer by layer. Adjusting the density as she went.
They got off at their stop.
Walked back toward the agency.
Three blocks away Mina's phone rang.
She answered it.
Her face changed.
"Yeah. Yeah I'm almost there." A pause. "I know. Tell him I'm two minutes away." Another pause. She sighed. "Kiri I'm literally around the corner."
She hung up.
Looked at Amaya.
"Kirishima emergency. Which means not an actual emergency but something he's categorized as an emergency. I have to—"
"Go," Amaya said.
"Are you sure? I can—"
"I'm reporting back to Bakugo anyway. Go."
Mina grabbed her arm briefly. Squeezed.
"It was really good to work with you today."
She meant it.
Amaya could tell.
"You too."
Mina left. Fast. Her boots clicking on the pavement.
Amaya watched her go.
Then walked the remaining three blocks alone.
Into the agency.
Up the elevator.
To the top floor.
She knocked.
"Yeah."
She opened the door.
He was at his desk. Reading glasses on. Three folders open. Coffee going cold next to the keyboard.
He looked up.
Took her in.
"How'd it go?"
She sat down in the chair across from him.
Opened her notes.
And told him everything.
He listened.
All the way through.
Didn't interrupt.
When she finished he was quiet for a moment.
"Good," he said.
"Mirio said you should come in person next time."
Something moved across his face.
"Of course he did."
"He said he misses your face."
Bakugo stared at her.
"He's unbearable," he said.
But something in his eyes was—
Not quite soft.
But not hard either.
Something in between.
He took off his glasses.
Set them on the desk.
Looked at her.
"Rank check."
She blinked.
"What?"
"Your ranking. What is it."
"Eighty seven."
He nodded slowly.
Like he was calculating something.
"It'll break eighty by end of month," he said.
Not a question.
A statement.
Like it was already decided.
She looked at him.
"You think so?"
"I know so."
He picked up his pen.
Went back to his folder.
Glasses back on.
Dismissed.
She stood.
Walked to the door.
Her hand on the handle.
"Tsukino."
She stopped.
"Good work today."
She didn't turn around.
Just smiled.
At the door.
At herself in the metal of the handle.
Small. Private.
"Thanks," she said.
And left.