Chapter Text
“Midori,” a caramel haired assistant calls as she knocks on the already open door of her boss’s spotless office.
Her bright eyes flicker with nervous energy as she lingers in the doorway, clutching a crimson agency folder.
“Camie,” he greets, setting the papers he was reviewing on the cold white granite-top desk. “Please come in. Sit.”
“Thank you, sir,” Camie bows before straightening and taking a seat.
“Camie, are you okay?” Midori asks, noticing the way her nervous eyes flicker around the folder placed neatly on her lap.
“Oh yes,” Camie chimes looking up at her boss.
“What can I help you with?” Midori asks, leaning back in his chair, slightly creaking under the weight. Dark circles shadow his eyes, making the emerald green eyes look brighter.
Camie hesitates, it isn’t that her boss is rude or angry. Actually Izuku Midoriya is the exact opposite.
“Camie? You’ve been my assistant since I moved here…what over eight years ago?” Izuku laughs slightly. “You do this every time you have a new business opportunity for me. And looks.” Izuku gestures around the room. “It all turns out great. So what’s in the folder?”
“An upcoming launch for a line of workout clothes,” her eyes snap to Izuku’s, he’s slightly squinting at her, not sure where she’s going with this. “It’s a Japan based brand too,” she continues softly.
“Camie…I don’t know,” Izuku drags the words out with uncertainty.
“Midori. Hear me out,” She begins to pull sketches and watches out of the folder. “The fabric and designs are still marketed toward high profiles and luxury buyers.”
Izuku picks up one of the designer’s sketches. Green ink, unusual for a designer, Izuku runs his finger along the link work. It’s beautifully done.
He looks over the paper at his assistant, “And where in Japan is this?”
“Musutafu,” Camie winces, knowing that the location might be the hardest part of the whole idea.
With a deep breath Izuku agrees, “Okay. Let’s do it.”
He hands the paper back to his assistant whose eyebrows have shot up in shock.
“It honestly could be a good boost to the press but you have to run it by Aizawa before reaching out to the company.”
Camie quickly stands from her chair, “Yes sir.”
Just before she walks out the door, Izuku stops her. “Camie.”
The assistant stops quickly, panic rushes through her. “Yes?”
Izuku stands up, smiling brightly at his eyes disappearing in it. “You did a really great job presenting this time.”
Camie’s face turns bright red and slightly rises on the tips of her toes, “Thank you sir!” she bows and hurries away the sound of her heels clicking quickly across the tile.
Izuku flops down in his chair, leaning his head back. The smell of leather from the new chair mixes with the smell of caramel from the candle burning on his desk reminded him of home, but not his home. A home that he found in someone’s arms over 20 years ago and he regrets ever leaving.
The last time he was in Musutafu was for his mother’s funeral just shortly after he left for New York. What made it worse was the one person in the world that he hoped would be there to support him, couldn’t even be bothered to show his face.
Izuku groans and runs his hand through his green hair before pushing up out of the seat. The office was now too quiet. Izuku could hear the car speeding outside, the buzz from his computer. And most of all he could hear his own thoughts too loudly right now. He needed to get some sleep or maybe a beer. Probably a beer.
On the other side of the world in a back office of his parent’s building, Katsuki Bakugo is working tirelessly on his upcoming launch for a luxury men’s workout line, one he’s calling Dynamight Fashion. It’s a subsidiary company of his parents. He plans to take over the Bakugo Fashion Industry but he wants to prove to himself that he can do something other than build off of what his parents have already established. Katsuki was fine with designing men’s suits but it wasn’t all that he wanted to do.
Katsuki hears the door to his office slightly creak open behind him. He knows it’s his new assistant, one that he’s yet to learn the name of. He keeps his attention on his laptop, confirming the measurements he’s making this shirt to.
“Mr. Bakugo,” a sharp featured blonde assistant says, his dress shoes click softly against the dark hickory floor.
“What?” Katsuki asks, as annoyance from his assistant's lack of knocking seeps in.
“We just got an email from a very well known modeling agency. They have a model that’s interested in the line.”
Katsuki rolls over to his mannequin, still not looking at the assistant.
“I don’t know how many fucking times I have to tell you this,” Katsuki spins to face the assistant. “You have a list of attributes that I want in models?”
The assistant swallows hard and nods aggressively. Katsuki Bakugo has gone through four assistants in the last six months. He’s demanding and straight forward, not many of them can handle it but Katsuki needs someone who can.
“So, does this model fit what I am looking for?”
“Yes sir,” the now terrified assistant says, clutching the clip board to their chest so tightly knuckles begin to blanch.
“Then book them,” Katsuki says leaning forward with a face of annoyance.
“Yes sir,” they say before spinning on their heels running out of the office.
“AND NEXT TIME FUCKING KNOCK!” Katsuki booms after the assistant who is sure to already be in tears.
Katsuki pulls the pins he was holding in his mouth out, sitting them on the table next to him. His gaze snags at the clutter, sending a wave of anxiety through his system. Fabric swatches, sketches, crumbled paper, pencils and pens litter the black table top.
“God what’s the point of hiring assistance if they can’t fucking do anything,” Katsuki mutters to himself running his fingers through his greasy ash-blonde hair. It’s 7 a.m and Katsuki hasn’t gone home yet. He slept on one of the leather sofas in the ‘sitting area’ of his office. It was originally created for a space for Katsuki to meet with clients but recently it has been his bedroom.
The launch was still 4 months out but it was definitely coming up faster than Katsuki had expected. Hell, he was just now booking his final model for this line. With a huff of frustration he turns back to the piece he was working on before, gently folding the hem of the shirt up so that it would sit just at the model’s hip bone.
An hour later, there is a soft knock at the door.
“Come in,” Katsuki mummers through the pins that had found their way back to his mouth.
In walks his assistant with a hot cup of black coffee and the measurements of the new model. Without saying a word the assistant sit the cup on a coaster and he carefully organizes Katsuki’s work bench making sure all of the models’ information is organized and put together.
“Is there anything else I can help you with Mr. Bakugo?”
Katsuki looks over his shoulder, “No, thank you.”
As the assistant exits the office, Katsuki stands and looks at how the table has been organized — model’s measurement papers are at the top of the table, all lined up against each other. Below that he placed the sketches and final silhouette plans, finally he laid out each fabric swatches of the material Katsuki plans to use for each piece of clothing. The assistant even labeled the fabric with the color and lot number so Katsuki could quickly ask for the bundle when he needed it.
He gingerly picks up the measurement paper for the most recently signed model. Holy shit. This guy is built. The model is 6’2”, with long legs thick legs. His shoulders are broad, with arms to match. Katsuki sits the perfectly laminated paper down and hopes that it’s all muscle. That would be the exactly the type of body he wanted to show off an athletic wear line.
At the same time, Katsuki was reviewing the new model. Izuku was getting an email notifying him of the dates that he would be needed in Musutafu. Not only for the photo shoot but for a launch party. They were 3 months apart. He could either fly there for the photo shoot, leave, and then come back. Or he could get a short term lease and work for a few other Japan brands that have been after him.
Staying in Musutafu wasn’t on Izuku’s list of fun ideas. Especially not for months. He left that part of his life behind years ago. He still had a few friends there, maybe he should reach out and see if they wanted to meet up. Or if any of them were still in the city.
Izuku pulls out his phone and opens an old group chat from high school. Last message sent 7 years ago. Yeah…that feels about right. Izuku types out the message and just stares at it on the screen. Is it okay to reach out to them? He lets out the breath that he doesn’t realize he’s been holding and presses send.
Izuku: Hey guys! Long time no talk.
Denks: Holy shit.
Kiri: Dude.
Ochaco: Oh my God.
Mina: GIRL!!!
Shoto: Who is this?
Denks: LMAO!!!
Izuku laughs to himself. Honestly it was better than he had expected.
Izuku: I’m gonna be in the city in a few weeks for a shoot. Wanted to see if any of you were still there and want to meet up.
Kiri: Hell yeah! Mina and I live a few blocks over from your old place.
Ochaco: Yes!! I live just outside the city now but I will make it work.
Denks: I’m there homie.
Shoto: No seriously guys. Who is this? I got a new phone and lost all of my contacts.
Izuku: Izuku Midoriya.
Shoto: You’re alive? I still live in the city. Do you need a place to stay?
Izuku can’t help but laugh because even though only a few messages have been shared he can tell that none of them have really changed. How will that feel about him though? He’s changed so much.
~
“Kid,” Aizawa says, his tired eyes showing over the edge of his designer glasses. A leather jacket casually thrown over his shoulder. “You ready?”
Izuku groans and pushes himself up off of the large uncomfortable airport lounge chair, “Yeah let’s get this flight done with.”
The nonstop flight from the U.S. to Musutafu is close to 15 hours. They are arriving 3 days early for the shoot, so Izuku can get back to looking like a human after a long day of travel. Also, he can look for a short term rental, because the more he thought about it the less you wanted to do multiple flights to and from the U.S.
However, before he could talk to anyone he needed to take a shower. As soon as he makes it through the doors of the hotel room he collapses on the bed. He’s been up for well over 24 hours now and could honestly sleep for the entire day but if he wants to get on a good sleep schedule he needs to power through.
“Ugh….this is awful,” Izuku complains.
Izuku’s goal was to sleep on the flight but that was quickly ruined but Aizawa and Camie who seem to never take a break from work. He appreciates all of their hard work, but it was exhausting keeping up with them.
There were contracts that needed to be read through, proof that needed approved, and even expenses that needed to be categorized from his last business trip. All important aspects of the business yet Izuku hates doing them.
“Maybe a shower will make me feel better,” he contemplates to himself, shoving himself up and off the bed. If he wants any chance of adjusting to the time change he needs to stay awake.
Steam from the shower quickly fills the bathroom as Izuku stands staring at himself. His hands tightly gripping the edge of the cool counter as if he was trying to hold himself together. Looking in the mirror he sees himself, not just his reflection but the way his green eyes have darkened and sunk deep into his face. His jaw line is tighter than normal.
“Fuck,” Izuku mutters and pushes himself off the the counter and climbs into the shower.
He lets the hot water rinse away the day of travel. The anxiety that’s filling him.
Izuku is first supposed to meet with the realtor Camie lined up for and then he’s meeting up with all of his old friends for a drink.
It’s now 6 pm, and they have toured four apartments, and all of them have been trash. Izuku knows that he’s asking for a miracle. A short term rental, with in unit washer and dryer, and a full size kitchen. Or at least a full sized kitchen for Musutafu . However, money isn’t an issue, which he thought would make this process easier.
The first apartment they toured had roaches. The second one had carpet that smelled like cat piss. The third was a studio that was so small, a full sized bed couldn’t even fit it. And the one that they were currently in, the kitchen didn’t have a stove top.
Izuku runs his hands through his hair, while trying to remind himself that the realtor is only showing him what’s available. Yet he is so tired and putting on a happy fake facade is getting exhausting. Taking a deep breath he walked back into the hallway where the realtor waited.
“Oh,” She jumps, sliding her phone into the oversized purse she was carrying. “So, what did you think?”
“This one will work if there’s nothing else but I’d really prefer to have a stove,” Izuku tries to keep his voice light but the frustration seeps through.
The realtor purses her lips together and nods as she pulls out the folder of listing.
“It looks like I have one more apartment to show you. It’s a five minute walk from here if you’ve got it in you,” She questions.
“That’s fine,” Izuku tells her as he follows her to the elevator and out the front of the building.
Izuku pulls his ballcap farther down and groans at the unapologetic flashes of sunlight that reflect off the building around them. Everything is a blur to him, until they turn down a familiar street. One he would run down on his way home from school. One him and…
“So Mr. Midori,” the realtor starts. “This place is a little more expensive, but there is a short term rental available…”
Izuku tried to listen but memories of his childhood flash forward. The laughter that he shared in the lobby, the games of hide-n-seek that he somehow always lost, and the music that still seems to be playing in the elevator.
“I don’t need to see the space,” Izuku cuts her off. “I’ll take it.”
“Oh?!” The realtor is shocked. “Did you hear that the short term lease is for six months…not three?”
Izuku didn’t but he doesn’t care, “Yeah. That’s fine. Send everything to my email.” Izuku puts on his sunglasses before walking back out into the blinding street.
He knows every nook and cranny of that apartment building. He knows what the one bedroom looked like and the two. He knew how the penthouse is laid out. He didn’t need anything else.
Izuku blankly walks into the restaurant he’s meeting everyone at. The restaurant is quiet, there is the hum of light conversation but nothing like the U.S. There the restaurants are loud, as music is played in an attempt to cover up the even louder conversations. Izuku forgot about the chaos that American restaurants could hold.
“Yo! Izuku over here,” Denki calls waving his hands across the restaurant as Kiri yanks him back down.
Izuku takes off his sunglasses and ballcap as he collapses next to the electric blonde before shrugging off his leather jacket.
“Fuck man…you look rough,” Kiri says pushing his beer over to Izuku.
Izuku nods and takes a long drink of the draft pour, God he missed Japanese beer, if he would of remembered that public drinking was legal in Japan he would have stopped by a 7/11 and got one on the walk over here.
“I feel rough. I am going on what,” Izuku shakes his sleeve to get a better look at his watch. “Almost 32 hours without sleep. I also looked at every shit-hole apartment in this city.”
Denki’s eyes went wide at the sight of the designer watch, it had to have cost well over 1 million yen. He knew Izuku was successful but maybe he didn’t know just how successful he was.
Izuku notices the gawking look on Denki’s face, he uncomfortably pulls his sleeve back down. Izuku has never been one to slow off his money, he doesn’t even buy his own clothes. Most of the items that he owns are from brand deals, or items Camie picks out for him after he mentions what he needs.
“Did you end up finding a place?” Shoto asks as he fills Izuku’s glass from the pitcher of beer at the table. “I know that market is shit right now and you had an unreasonable list of expectations.”
Izuku chuckles, giving a small nod of thanks for the refill before taking a long drink.
“I found a place,” Izuku quietly admits. “It’s the same place that I lived at when I was a kid.”
The table falls silent for a moment, not one really sure how to react. Izuku has always been a hard person to read, at least for the people here, but now that they have spent 8 years apart it’s even more difficult for them to figure out.
Izuku sensed the uneasiness, “It’s all good guys! They are great apartments, at least they were 8 years ago so I’ll be fine,” smiles in hope to get the mood back up.
Denki, being the dunce that he is, is the first one of the group to break the silence. “So…how much was that watch?”
Mina and Ochaco both throw their napkins at Denki scolding him for being rude, while Shoto and Kiri just laugh.
The rest of the night feels easier. The loud laughter of catching up with friends quickly fills the air around them. Drinks come and go as stories of the years and shared, some stories from their high school days are told as people tip toe around the elephant in the room.
“Do you remember when Izuku,” Ochaco snorts, not being able to get the full story about. “Do you remember when Izuku lost that bet and had to run across the football field naked?”
Izuku throws his head back in embarrassment. “It was one time,” he defends as if it makes it any better.
“Didn’t Kat do it with you?” Mina asks as if she didn’t just drop a bombshell on the entire night.
Kiri’s eyes widden with a tighten jaw, giving his girlfriend a ‘What the fuck is wrong with you’ look.
Mina just narrows her eyes at him, confirming that she knows damn well what she is doing.
Izuku doesn’t answer right away, his fingers laced around his beer glass as condensation runs down in, causing small pools of water to rest on his fingers. The memory of that night pushes its way forward, Izuku can’t help but to smile.
Him and Katsuki were only 15, they had just officially started dating but they were together long before that. It was a cold November night, Izuku had lost a bet over something stupid, he couldn’t even remember what it was about now. However, the punishment was stripping down naked and running across the football field. What a stupid punishment, it wasn’t like anyone but them were even on the field.
Izuku was just about to take off running when Kat ran up next to him, hands covering the same bits Izuku was, with a menacing ‘let’s do this shit’ grin on his face.
“You thought I was going to let you do this alone, Deku?”
Izuku laughs, “Yeah he did it with me. There was no way he could ever let me do something like that alone.”
“Does he know your back?” Kiri asks. It’s too late to pivot the conversation away from this, he might as well just ask what everyone wants to know.
“No and if everything works out right, he won’t know until I’m already gone,” Izuku informs the small group of friends that look mildly heartbroken at his words.