“You again?” you muttered, crossing your arms as Keigo Takami—Pro Hero Hawks himself—landed way too close in your personal space with a gust of wind and the cockiest smile you’d seen all week.

“Aw, c’mon, sidekick,” he grinned, already walking past you. “Try not to look so excited.”

“I’m not your sidekick.”

“Technically, you’re assigned to shadow me today, so… yeah, you kinda are.”

You bit back a retort. Barely.

⸻

Keigo was chaos wrapped in confidence. A flirt. A talker. The kind of hero who looked like he was goofing off but had already sized up every threat in the room before your boots even hit the ground.

You hated that he was good at this.

You hated more that he knew it.

⸻

“Alright, rookie,” he said as you both scoped out a suspect’s hideout. “You distract ‘em, I’ll swoop in with the whole ‘justice and feathers’ thing.”

“That’s your plan?”

“You got a better one?”

“…I go in and you don’t talk.”

“Oof. Harsh. You always this fun at parties?”

⸻

You rolled your eyes, but part of you couldn’t help watching him when he wasn’t looking. The way his eyes constantly scanned for exits. How his jokes always landed a half-second before a tense moment—like he could feel the tension and tried to beat it to the punchline.

You didn’t trust him.

But you were curious.

⸻

Later that day, after a sloppy takedown that ended in both of you cuffed together by a villain’s trap quirk, you sat side-by-side in a back alley, breathing hard.

“This your idea of teamwork?” you huffed, glaring.

“Technically,” he said, leaning his head back against the brick wall, “you tackled me.”

“You dodged!”

“You jumped at me.”

“You smiled!”

“…it was a pretty good smile.”

You stared at him. “You’re insufferable.”

He just grinned.

⸻

You didn’t like him. Not really.

But maybe… you didn’t not like him either.

Yet.