BNHA || white lie

21

LA is large. You remember when you had first moved here—you barely went anywhere further than a block away from your apartment (with the exception being your school). Even when you had begun to feel more adventurous, you kept your eyes glued to your phone screen as you walked, diligently following your maps app to make sure you wouldn't get lost. Now, you know your way around. You easily navigate through the tall buildings and winding streets where obnoxious drivers ran red lights and even more obnoxious pedestrians crossed recklessly. You're a part of the latter. You would probably also be part of the former if you had a license, but driving in LA is a nightmare and you'd like to stay in your dreams just a little bit longer.

You snake your way through the cars that might as well be parked on the street, seeing as they weren't moving at all. It is a late Friday afternoon, almost evening, and so the streets are packed with people trying to go somewhere to finally relax after the week. You are no different.

You had forgotten how taxing heroics were, after not doing them at all for so long. With a pang of regret, you wish you hadn't taken your break for granted. It is fleeting guilt, though. You shake it off easily.

Bored, you wander the city, head tilted up as you gaze at the sky. It turns from blue to a strange mix of green-orange. There are no clouds today. The sun is covered by the looming skyscrapers, its rays still peeking out with a harsh glare, so you choose instead to look away. It is too bright.

You're so bored. Your fingers itch to do something.

It isn't a new feeling, though. Often—too often, in your opinion—you find yourself in this situation. Walking the streets without a destination yet with a desire. It always leads you nowhere. After hours of just roaming around, you would give up on whatever it is you were looking for and just return home. You don't know why you keep doing it. How could you find it if you don't even know what it is?

Your feet start to hurt after a while, so you buy a lemonade from a random vendor before settling at a small table. Somehow you ended up in a rather crowded street. People mill about, most carrying large paper shopping bags, and after looking around you realize you've ended up in a shopping center rather close to your home. Which is convenient. But you don't want to go home just yet.

"[L/Name]?"

You blink back into focus, startled. Had you been recognized again? Granted, you weren't wearing anything to cover your face, but you'd always thought you blended rather easily in the crowd—especially in LA. Also, no one really stopped to say hello to celebrities, especially in the more crowded areas. They just admired from afar.

Putting on a clipped, professional smile, you turn to the voice. "Can I help—ah."

A pair of golden eyes and a large smile beams brightly at you. Kaminari perks up when he sees your face. "Oh, it really is you! I was worried for a second that I might have gotten the wrong person."

You sigh, and let the smile slide off your face. You swirl the half-finished lemonade in its plastic cup, the ice loudly crunching together as you do. "Kaminari. What a coincidence. What are you doing here?"

"Oh! We decided to go exploring around the city today. It's really cool! And, uh, really big. I was with some of the other guys but we got separated..."

You grunt, unamused. "Sounds like you."

He chuckles and rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yeah... So, uh, could you maybe help me get back to CIHA? Please? I'm really, really lost..."

You make a face, before slowly getting up out of your seat and stretching. "...Fine."

He smiles brightly. "Thanks! I owe you one!"