Red Ink

Part 30 - Contracts and Agreements

"How do they make sure the boxers don't have strength enhancing quirks?"

"See that red blinking light above the ring?" The Prince leaned close and pointed her eyes to the little flashing box hanging above the fighters. "It's a quirk limiter. Every match is fair that way. They're all over the Event Sector, actually– even in here."

The two of them fell into conversation easily. It confused Red; how did she feel so comfortable around a one night stand from years ago? Even when she wasn't viewing him romantically, talking with her old suitor was as easy as riding a bike. His charm was oddly similar to Kirishima's. Apparently she did have a type.

Kirishima was confused as well. Red was typically reserved and quiet; why was she this comfortable with him when they'd only ever spoken in the Golden Lounge? It had taken Red Riot much longer to break down her walls. Why were the walls already broken with the Prince?

They fell into old patterns without knowing. After years of dancing around each other, an odd connection had formed that even Mei's CC masks couldn't hide. Without either of them understanding it, the invisible string of fate seemed to draw them into each other's company, regardless of whatever identities they were hiding behind. When they were together, it was them, even if they didn't know it.

Thirty minutes had already passed seamlessly, just of them talking. It was easier than it should have been-- for both of them.

"I guess the Event Sector is rich enough to afford them," Red muttered.

Kirishima eyed her quietly, trying to decipher the bitterness laced in her words. "Is that why you don't like the Event Sector? The exorbitant wealth?"

Y/N shook her head. "No, not that. It's just... a lot of people would kill for a quirk limiter. Not necessarily a giant one like that," she clarified, pointing to the one above the ring, "but even the smaller ones."

"Why?"

Red looked back at him this time. She chuckled at him. "For the Prince of the Underground, you make it pretty obvious that you're not from down here."

"Really? Shit," Eijirou muttered, sitting up in his chair. "I don't usually get clocked that fast." If she could figure that out so quickly, then the mask he was wearing felt significantly less powerful. Y/N was much too perceptive.

"Why do you come down here? Not many on the surface like to risk it." Her eyes narrowed. "But I guess you do keep your identity pretty well hidden. Better than most."

Kirishima was beginning to feel a bit antsy. The mask definitely didn't feel as private as it usually did; it was like Y/N already knew it was him. Did she?

"I wanted to feel wanted." The words tumbled out before he even realized the thought himself. "I'm greedy. I like to feel needed, and I..." he looked out the window with her. "I dunno. I didn't feel like I was, on the surface."

"Lots of people come to the Underground because of a bad home life."

"That's the thing though. I don't have a bad home life," he muttered. "I have friends, money, recognition. There was no reason for me to come down here. I shouldn't have."

That surprised Y/N, enough to make her sit back in her chair to face him. "You sound like you regret it."

"I think I do." The Prince looked down at his red, calloused knuckles in disdain. "The contract, it–" A white light flashed on the side of the Prince's mask and for a moment the voice modulator made him sound garbled. He didn't seem surprised by it– in fact, he flicked a button on the side of his face covering and sighed heavily. "Not allowed to talk about that, I guess."