They made it to the hotel without much fuss. It was pretty quiet on the way there, Airi was looking out the window and Bakugou was on his phone, scrolling away at different news articles.
One caught his eye. A woman stood front and center of the headlining picture, a sign held high above her head. In bold letters on the white paper were the words, "No more heroes!" Another protest from the anti-quirk movement, he guessed.
A few years ago, a movement like this was waved off without thought. But now, after everything that happened in his first year of high school, their support numbers were rising.
Many claimed that, even though the heroes managed to defeat the Paranormal Liberation Front and in turn All For One and his lackeys, the heroes have not redeemed themselves. In fact, some even say that all of this was the heroes' fault in the first place.
Bakugou thought it was all fucking ridiculous. It was obviously the villains who were in the wrong. The protestors weren't there on the front lines when Gigantomachia decimated everything in sight, or when Shigaraki's quirk evolved out of control. They weren't the ones who took spikes through the gut, or died on the battlefield, barely being able to be revived.
He swallowed hard at the flashbacks and subconsciously rubbed at his side, right over where one of the scars still resided. He thought he had already worked past all this shit.
He silently thanked the driver when the car pulled into porte cochere, pulling him out of his thoughts with the shift in direction.
When the car finally made a complete stop, he was quick to exit and open the trunk.
The hero-in-training stood there for a moment, blinking a few times and taking a deep breath, swallowing the memories like a thick pill.
Airi slowly came into view, her eyes glancing over him flittingly in concern, but she made no movement to ask him. Thank fuck, he wasn't going to answer anyways.
Bakugou cleared his throat, "Deku already checked you in, we'll be going straight to the 17th floor."
Pumping her fist like a child, Airi grinned, "Yissss, penthouse level baby!" She tugged her luggage out of the trunk of the car and began wheeling it through the sliding glass doors of the hotel lobby.
He couldn't get the earlier scene out of his head. It surprised him somehow when she'd lashed back at him. He wasn't sure why, but he didn't think some prissy princess popstar like her was capable of that.
"Hey, hero!" Airi called and once again, Bakugou was caught blinking out of his thoughts. His crimson gaze met the black shield of her sunglasses. "Let's get going! You were the one who wanted to rush to the hotel as soon as possible."
Bakugou followed after her.
They arrived to the room and Bakugou knocked on the door. The pair didn't wait long before the door opened for them, a hero clad in red stood in front of them.
"Hello!" Airi waved.
The hero in red smiled and returned the gesture, "Hi! Oh my gosh, it's really you!" He stepped to the side to allow Airi and Bakugou through.
The singer chuckled, "Yes, it's really me. And you are?"
"That's Red Riot, one of the guys from the restaurant. Shitty Hair is too much of a fucking fangirl to remember how to function."
"Bakubro, why do you have to be so mean all the time?" Kirishima whined.
"It's Dynamight when we're on a mission!"
"Then don't call me Shitty Hair! And my hair's not shitty!"
The two boys began arguing with each other, their arms moving animatedly around. Airi was too distracted trying to keep up with what they were even fighting about to notice another figure come to stand next to them.
YOU ARE READING
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Fanfiction"You have a new mission." Aizawa addressed the class, "You are to act as security for the famous singer Airi's upcoming concert." - Those eyes captivated him, "Who are you?" - "You see me as me." - As Bakugou navigates his third year of Highschool...
