𝐃𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘|| 𝙠. 𝙗𝙖𝙠𝙪𝙜𝙤

𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐠𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐬

𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐠𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐬

The Hero Ranking Gala was always a spectacle, a night where Japan's finest heroes came together to celebrate their accomplishments. Paparazzi lights flickered like a wildfire outside the grand venue, snapping shots of the elite stepping out of flashy cars and onto the red carpet.

The red carpet stretched ahead, annoyingly lined with flashing cameras and the eager chatter of reporters. Bakugo stood still, his arms crossed over his chest, eyes narrowed beneath the weight of the crowd's expectations. His jaw was tight, actively avoiding the cameras.

He hated this.

The need to pose and smile for cameras, the endless questions about his hero work. Public events like this made his skin crawl.

Still, he couldn't back out of this event–having skipped all the rest for extra hours at work. Not now, not after everything. Not when he was so damn close to finally getting what he'd worked for: Number One.

The thought of winning was a constant undercurrent. He wanted this. Badly. Always had. Now he was so close. 

As much as he hated the pomp and circumstance of events like this, the ranking mattered. Every second spent here, every stupid interview, was worth it for that one moment of validation. He wanted to prove to himself—no, to everyone—that he deserved it after everything.

But she wasn't here yet.

He tugged on the collar of his tux that felt more suffocating by the second, sharp crimson eyes scanned the carpet in annoyance as another hero he unfortunately recognized stepped out onto the carpet with a need for attention. A flashed the cameras a charismatic smile, being far too over the top.

Moron.

A sleek black car rolled to a stop, its polished exterior gleaming in the flashing lights. It had snapped him out of spiraling thoughts.

"We have another arrival! Which hero is–"

He tuned the announcer of the carpet out.

The door opened slowly, and then—there she was, and for a moment he forgot to breathe.

His hand fell away from his collar, annoyance bleeding away as she stepped out, looking like she belonged to the spotlight, even if she wasn't exactly a fan of it either.

Without thinking, he moved toward her with a polite hand extended out.

Her leg peeked through the slit of her dress as she took his hand and stepped out.

Her dress was a perfect fit, a black color and full of subtle sparkle shimmering under the flashing lights like a starry sky. It was easy to miss the faint orange around the bottom of the dress where the black faded, creating the most subtle ombre effect from her upper calves to her feet that had been strapped in heels. Her indigo hair cascaded loosely over her shoulder, having grown it out in her early twenties. There was a slight disarray to her—her hair tousled as if she had just taken it out of a bun that at least gave it a slight bounce, and the faintest smear of blood on her shoulder—nothing obvious, but enough for him to know.

Unlike many heroes who paid big money for the best makeup artists to look their best for this event, she had gotten ready in the back of the car.

The thought made him chuckle.

"And on the red carpet now is Dreamcatcher, met by Dynamig–"

She too ignored the presenter, her face softening into a familiar apologetic smile as she looked up at him.