we're not done [shinkami]

grape juice

word count: 2992
smut warning for this chapter! its not detailed whatsoever and you can skip past it if you want!

The three of us walked back to the van, Sero and I getting in. Jiro leaned against the passenger door, smiling up at me.

"It was nice to see you Denks, you really need to keep in touch again," she told me. Her voice was suddenly overtaken by Sero turning the blaring radio on. Static filled our ears before he quickly tried to change the station.

He flipped through a few news channels before landing on one that finally played music. I watched Kyoka make a face before she leaned in through the window and reached over me to the radio. She changed the station back to a news outlet and turned the volume up a couple notches.

Both me and the black haired man were confused, staring at her, before suddenly we made eye contact in shock.

     "This afternoon, we're hearing news that our Tenth pro hero, Ingenium has reportedly been discovered missing. His last sighting was on Tuesday at around 9:06pm, seen leaving the Mocrinelli's buffet with his Sixth hero, Creati. Family and friends state they haven't seen him since and Creati has reported that after their dinner at Mocrinelli's, they went opposite directions home. If anyone has information on the whereabouts of Tenya Iida, please contact our station or a hero agency."

     The back door slid open as Jiro jumped inside. "Alright, I'm coming with you guys. This story is getting too juicy," she exclaimed, leaning forward over the center console.

     The three of us each exchanged a silent glance as Sero threw his foot on the gas. The drive wasn't long but it sure felt like it. I was hit with a realization of where we were going and my heart started to pound, anxiety building. There was a pit in my stomach as I began to regret this entire decision. That paired with what Bakugo had said gave me a feeling of dread.

     Sero parked in the lot of a familiar apartment building and the horrible feeling I was having only grew. I felt my friends' eyes on me as I stared up at it, fidgeting with my hands.

     "If you want, Hanta and I can go talk to him alone. You can wait out here," Kyoka spoke softly.

     I shook my head. "I think I need to go talk to him alone," I spoke and she nodded in agreement.

     I got out of the car, stepping onto the pavement. I made a beeline for the apartment number that I had memorized yet shoved in the back of my mind, knocking on the door with my fist. The door swung open and Hitoshi Shinso stared down at me with a raised brow.

     What Katsuki said played in my mind once again as I quickly blurted out words. "Hey- Um I'm sorry for just showing up, especially since we haven't really talked for so long and uh I know that this is probably super awkward and weird but we could really use your help."

     Shinso crossed his arms, a smile creeping on his face. "A 'how are you' would have been nice," he said in his usual monotone voice.

     I felt a twinge in my chest. "Uh- How are you?" I asked nervously.

     Shinso blinked before letting out a laugh, stepping away from the door. "You can come in. I have food in the oven if you want to stay for some early dinner," he said as he moved into his living room. "I've been great, Kaminari. What about you?" he asked me.

     I followed him inside, gently closing the door behind me. "Um, alright I guess. I could stay if you're alright with that," I responded, though I probably wouldn't be able to eat through the nerves.

     "Don't be weird and stay by the door. Sit down. You've been here before," he told me as he walked to his kitchen. "You need a drink?"

     I gingerly took a seat on the couch, sinking into the cushion. "No I'm alright, thank you though," I responded. I couldn't help but look around, noticing nothing had changed. I was sitting on the same couch where we used to cuddle, staring at the same TV we had stayed up countless nights watching movies on. To the left was the bedroom we once shared, the bed still made with sheets I had bought. On the carpet was a faint stain that I had made from tripping over my own feet, spilling a glass of grape juice. The walls were covered in nails that once held pictures of our memories. And in the corner, atop a cat tree, was the little calico cat we had gotten together as a so called "commitment animal". She was all grown up now, having been a kitten when I left. It was bittersweet taking everything in.