we're not done [shinkami]

unlikely reunion

word count: 3045

I never really payed much attention to the news. But for the next week after the incident, I didn't have a choice. Talk of the death of the second pro hero was all over town and coverage of the story had taken over every channel on television.

It hit me harder than I thought it would. At first, I was just in shock. But the topic made me feel solemn and upset. I didn't grieve for the pro hero but instead, the 16 year old boy that once sat in the corner of a classroom, dreaming of becoming somebody. Now, 5 years later, he'd been ripped from the position his father once stood. And Sero was a mess over it.

After high school, Hanta Sero, like the majority of us, had begun his career as a professional hero. He had a useful quirk, but one that was easily overlooked. After a year or so, he had fallen out of familiarity. Nobody knew the name Cellophane.

So, he did what any average 19 year old would do. Drop out of the job and get hooked on drugs. Of course. He soon lost the apartment he'd bought with his government paychecks, resorting to living in a van he bought off a sketchy guy just outside the city. It was quite a comfortable smoking spot but the activities were limited.

Now, the man I watched fall from such a huge height was slumped on my couch, his snores filling the living room. I stared at him for a bit, watching the way his fingers twitched while he dreamt about who knows what. Throwing a glance at the time, I contemplated waking him. It was past noon and I knew if I didn't get him up now, I'd lose privileges to my couch until evening.

Earlier that morning, before the sun had even rose, I'd woken up to the sound of him barging into my apartment. He was blazed out of his mind, stumbling over both his own words and feet. His cheeks were tear stained, though I never actually saw him cry. I ended up having to throw him on the couch. He was asleep within a few minutes.

I walked over, pushing his feet off the couch. He groaned and shifted, but didn't wake up. I took a seat on the cushion, squishing myself up against the arm rest. I began scrolling through my phone, though there was no point. I had basically heard all the stories already.

Nobody knows exactly what happened. The news was sharing their accounts of what could be recorded through the smoke. Conspiracies littered my social media feeds, questions of who or what they were even fighting. Nobody seemed to know. There was never a sign of anything fighting back. Todoroki's cause of death was a mystery.

I couldn't lie and say I wasn't intrigued. The only issue was, the remaining heroes at the scene had yet to share the details. There was radio silence from Kirishima and Shinsou and Bakugou's only appearances in the latest news was announcements of replacing the former number two.

I frowned as I turned my phone off, looking over at Hanta. My mind raced with thoughts for quite a while. Eventually, however, one popped in my mind that instantly stopped all the others. I grabbed my friend's arm, shaking him awake.

He huffed and pushed me away. "What? What the hell do you want?" he whined, glaring at me with half closed eyelids.

"Can you take me somewhere? I just had this idea. It's kinda stupid but-"

"Dude, it's like 8 in the morning," he cut me off, sitting up. "Unless we're getting breakfast, no."

"It's actually 3 in the afternoon. Get up, you're on my couch anyways. This is important," I insisted, getting to my feet.

He hesitated for a bit, presumably adjusting to his new perception of what time it was. "Um- I guess. Whatever. Can I shower and smoke first?"

"Yea whatever," I agreed reluctantly, knowing he would refuse otherwise.