Izuocha's Love Stories

45 - THAT ONE GUY

By SevenRenny

He'd started off as a fan, just like most Pro Heroes. When he'd studied at UA, he'd still a fan; the biggest one, there, still writing in notebooks obsessively like it was as important as air. He reached Sidekick status, and still, he was a fan. It was public knowledge, especially after how he'd acted during interviews: a rigid, stuttering mess when asked to speak about himself, then turning into a vocal encyclopedia when it came to other Heroes and Quirks.

A Pro Hero, and yet again, still a fan, collecting his friends' merchandise, attending Hero conventions and forgetting he was an invited guest and not an attendee, asking for autographs and pictures from Heroes. He just never thought he'd be the one giving out autographs one day. He should've known. It never, however, sunk in. He never saw himself important enough to be liked or loved enough to gather fans of his own. It was uncanny. The younger kids saw him the same way he'd looked up to All Might. Older kids thought he was the coolest. And, after Charge Bolt pointing it out, some women had developed celebrity crushes on him. They were especially vocal after he'd finished capturing a Villain publicly.

"Deku, I love you!"

"You're so strong."

"Can I touch your arm?"

"He's so cute!"

He swore he heard someone say something about a 'cute butt'. He was thankful for the circle of law enforcement that protected him from the not-so-harmless fangirls.

"Deku, do you have a girlfriend?"

"Did you see when his clothes ripped? His freckles are so cute!"

Some woman whistled at him, which made him pull up his hoodie and hide his face in embarrassment, accidentally making the cheers louder.

Part of him wanted to get away as soon as possible. The other part told him that was rude, and he should, at least, say something nice.

"Thanks for supporting me, everyone! Take care of yourselves and each other. I'll do my best to keep everyone safe," he said innocently, giving them a sweet smile.

They exploded, screaming like a sea of admirers at a concert. Bless the officers keeping them at bay. He loved his fans – appreciated them with all his heart, but after a few unwelcomed touches, chest strokes, and at some point, tugs at his clothes, he learned to keep his distance. He'd already been groped enough during his high school days.

...

Heroes were, well, heroes, as well as celebrities. The latter had changed the way she lived. Everyone knew her. Every mistake she made was broadcasted and reported on by the media. The internet liked to spread stories; some trues, some half-truths, and many false ones. And, according to online rumors, Uravity either had a secret boyfriend, or was dating another Hero. They came up with new stories every time. It turned out, she wasn't the only one dealing with this, though most Heroes seemed to not mind this sort of attention as it boosted them higher up the popularity poll.

She wasn't sure how she felt about it.

In a beige suit (an attempt at being both professional and casual) she sat stiffly in the overstuffed couches, very aware of the eyes and cameras and show host behind the desk. The man had his usual mug on the desk, on the same spot every time; it probably left a ring on the desk that would last centuries. The clapping from the audience onstage took a full minute to slowly wither away. The music band stopped plying after she'd mechanically sat down.

"We're so glad to have you here," the host said, pushing his glasses up.

"Thanks! I'm so happy to be here. I'm really excited." Nervous was a better term.