Being a Hero is dangerous out on the battlefield, but also, on safe concrete land as well.

Public image is no joke.

The famous like to keep their fame tidy. Hearing positive and encouraging comments keeps ones self esteem and ego going. Hearing the negative push people to face their own insecurties—often leading to backlash from evil comments alone.

Aizawa hates the press for that very reason. Even so, he loathes the Paparazzi. They flash invasive shots like they have a right to know about his personal life, like every other person believes is valid. The scowls they capture are never a regret when they go viral on the internet.

Tonight, the same flashes would light up your world. A hero event the faculty at U.A. would have to attend. The sun is setting, yet lines of cameras and interviewers stand prepared to gain popularity from hungry fans sitting behind screens.

You and Aizawa share a mutual dislike for these events just for this reason.

Your driver pulled up at the entrance where you'll have to make it through the sea of barricaded people and flashes. You can already feel the pit in your stomach, although there's nothing to be afraid of. You look stunning, dolled up for the event that's private for only top notch heroes.

You're only human though. Nerves are normal, especially when the whole entire world will have their eyes on you at some point. Online or in person, now or a hundred years later.

As soon as your chauffer opens the door for you, you plaster your best smile as one graceful foot steps out after the other. Smile and wave. Flashes blare. Voices yell your Hero name when they see you.

When will you get used to this?

The interviewers have already captured some Heroes to question, some by choice, some with no choice. Focus. It's simple, follow the carpet and head to the entrance.

Uh oh, there's one reaching over the barrier with a mic and loud questions.

Suddenly, a taller man in a black suit comes into your vision. Stubble shaved, hair tied back into a neat half-bun. Shouta stares down at you with a hand extended, his eyes holding that scowls you wish you could hold comfortably like him.

You slip into his hold like you always would, his arm snaking around your waist naturally as time has allowed it. He leads you past Papparazi, the two of you ignoring calls for photos swiftly.

Just once, you pose for a camera, and he faces the other way. He may not like seeing his face under the stamp of a company's camera, but he wouldn't dampen someone else's time to shine just because he doesn't want to. Your style always goes viral for each event anyway, it's almost satisfying for him to see.

Walking inside grand doors and avoiding small talk with other heroes, Eraser steers you both to an area that's quiet. Away from the hustle and bustle, close to a wall and a silent table.

He lets out a breath the same time you do. "Christ. I feel like those psychos will break those barricades one day." He murmurs, already tugging loose his collar, just a bit.

He rubs his eyes, a quiet groan following. "It's not even dark and their flashes are burning my eyes."

Shouta glanced over to you then, catching the way you fanned yourself from nerves that made you cheeks flush. His voice lowered in a softness used only for you. "You okay?" He asked, stepping close with a handkerchief he tugged out his blazer.