synopsis: when you were fifteen, you wrote love letters to a fake address. at twenty eight, you received a reply.
pairing: pro hero!eijirou kirishima x quirkless lawyer!reader
warnings: explicit sexual content eventually, mdni. fluff (with a little angst) mentions of workplace exploitation, quirk discrimination. this chapter is plot heavy
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you are on: she replied (2)
a/n: this one is a good bit of world building! more exchanging of letters will happen next chapter i think, but for now we get to learn more about reader and kiri’s lives now 🌀
you look down at your desk and realize that your coffee mug has been sitting on some case files for quite some time. you quickly try to pick it up, but the damage was already done. a brown ring of your chai latte was already air-drying on the paper much to your dismay.
"hey yuma, can you please reprint the hashima case files?" you call out loud, and instantly the pink haired woman was peeking around your door. "yes!" she replies with a prompt efficiency, but you can tell she was lingering. you take a deep sigh. "…yes, yuma?"
she has a kicked puppy dog look to her face, glossed lips pulled into a frown. "i want to keep apologizing for that asshole i put you on a date with," she wails. "i swear if i knew he was a quirkist weirdo i would've never even talked to him—let alone set you guys up!" her face looked a lot more frantic now. you give her a small smile. despite her overkill personality, you knew she was a sweet girl and didn't act in malice.
"i know you didn't know, yuma. don't worry, okay?" you wave her off, and she sulks away in retreat, fetching your request. she still seems upset by the whole ordeal, which you do feel bad about, but it wasn't the most pressing thing on your plate right now. it's been whole three weeks since you had not only had the worst date ever, but also received that… letter.
okay, it's possible you were avoiding dealing with it. in your defense, you got dropped with a larger case that was taking a lot of time to research. a hero and support technology company by the name of hashima ltd, to be specific. a rival to detnerat, they prided themselves in their 'new ventures' opportunity program that helped hire more quirkless individuals in every sector of their company. the program picked the most eligible graduates out of university and ultimately led to hashima having the most decorated young hires. it made national news. you remember how happy you were to see that some corporations did care and opted for diversity and inclusion despite the social pushback from quirk supremacists. so much for that, you thought.
you stare at the name at the top of your ruined papers, thinking about your initial meeting.
kami tsurugi was sat in front of you, teary-eyed. she was working for hashima for only eight months and in that short time she had poured everything into her first official hero tech: the "aegis frame". it was a modular exoskeleton designed for pro-heroes to have over their suits. the gear was supposed to be revolutionary with its invisible neo-material plating, real-time villain detection, and intelligent life-support systems that could keep a hero functioning even after taking catastrophic damage.
kami had been the lead mechanical engineer.
“they praised me in every meeting,” she told you with her voice cracking. “they said having a quirkless designer lead a project proved the new ventures program worked. no one had thought of the tech on aegis frame before me,” her hands twisted nervously in her lap. “but then field tests started failing and suddenly it was all my fault.”
you had listened as she described the slow sabotage she endured from budget cuts to key safety redundancies quietly removed from her designs. the credit for the idea of the aegis frame went to her seniors who had quirks while she was left holding the blame for every malfunction. two pro-heroes, fatgum and real steel, had already been badly injured upon usage. real steel was still in critical care because the aegis frame’s shielding glitched under high quirk output, melting the material onto his steel body and fusing them together. you remember when you heard the news of this happening, and little was known of who had caused this to happen at hashima.
with this, they started to quietly try to bury her. they had offered a pitiful severance and a glowing reference if she signed an nda and disappeared. when she hesitated, they threatened to leak that she was the reason famed hero fatgum's agency received the faulty tech.
"i did the math, miss. i'm telling you, someone changed my blueprints and sent out the wrong tech on purpose. but i have no way to prove it," a tear rolls down her face as she looks down. "my family relies on my income. i don't know who to go to." she looked up at you again, this time, her eyes filled with sadness. "i saw what you did for that quirkless elementary teacher. i beg of you, please help me." your heart clenches tightly. you reach over the coffee table, giving her hands a reassuring squeeze. "kami, we will make your voice heard. trust me."
you recall the way her shoulders trembled when she finally stood up to leave that day, the only thing left behind was her original work on a usb and some of her old notes.
kami tsurugi was barely twenty four. you could tell she was a sharp-minded and soft-spoken young girl, the kind of person who still believed hard work could outweigh her quirkless status just like you do. watching her walk out of your office with that fragile hope in her eyes had made your promise feel grave. it was unfortunate you saw a lot of yourself in her.
now that promise sat soaked in your coffee.
yuma finally returned with the fresh copy, placing them gently on the corner of your desk. her eyes flick to the old coffee-stained ones, then to you deep in thought.
"everything okay?” she asks, concerned.
you nod tiredly. "yeah, it's okay. i just know this case is gonna be a long one. thank you." she lingers for a second longer, but when you don’t say anything else, she offers a small smile and quietly closes the door behind her.
eijirou kirishima was not by nature someone who acted "childish".
it was oftentimes that he simply couldn't be, given his friends were usually the ones to act immaturely while he just shook his head and moved on. denki kaminari and sero hanta had a tendency to assume the roles of thing one and thing two, dumb and dumber, whatever other comedic dynamic duo you could think of. mina ashido was mostly an instigator, she loved riling up anyone and everyone contradictory to her cutesy girl demeanor. and finally his best friend katsuki bakugou, better known as dynamight. his hotheaded temper was enough to last him an eon.
he was okay being somewhat of the negotiator of the friend group. the one whos "got it together".
so admittedly, when he and his friends were at dinner and he complained for the billionth time about how his mystery girl hadn't sent him a reply back, katsuki lost it.
"can you shut the fuck up! oh my god, that's all you talk about these days," he barks out. mina swats the cranky hero upside the head, scolding him.
"i will pour my drink all over your hair if you hit me again."
"do you have a death wish?" she snarks out.
she chooses to ignore the seething pomerian and turns to face him. "kiri, listen. you did say she had the choice to not respond," she reasons with him sweetly, a sad smile on her face.
he sighs with a whine. "i knoooow. i'm just so bummed out," he plays with a soggy fry, drowning it in ketchup. "i feel like she's probably such a cool girl," he sighs.
"or she could be a greasy old scammer fishing for emotional blackmail money."
mina throws denki a glare as him and sero snicker amongst themselves. "you guys are being so mean! let kiri be a yearner," she yells at all of them, making the table hush. "okay but like, if she was real, wouldn't she want to reply back already?" sero points out.
the red head falls into his thought train again. well, yeah. if she was interested, she would have sent a letter. ideally he wouldn't have been so hung up about missing a shot with a girl, but he had a gut feeling about this for some reason.
"maybe she's just busy." everyone turns to bakugou, who was the last person any of them expected to weigh in on this rationally. "she said she was a lawyer. employed people aren't exactly playing fuckin' pen pals."
mina bursts into a wide grin. "yeah! see?" she says triumphantly, waving a hand in his direction. "she’s probably swamped with work. a big girlboss lawyer that doesn’t check her mail every day."
kirishima’s face lights up a little at the support. “yeah, she alluded that she works with quirk discrimination cases and deals with heavy shit on the daily. i probably shouldn’t be whining about her not replying yet," he says, scratching the back of his neck.
denki slurps his drink loudly. “i'm still stuck on the fact she ghosted you over snail mail. after you poured your manly, manly heart out,” he throws a hand on his forehead like a damsel in distress, sighing exaggeratedly.
“it wasn’t that dramatic,” kirishima blanches, cheeks tinting slightly red.
before anyone can tease him further, sero leans forward, suddenly more serious. “not to kill the vibe or anything, but how’s the agency been holding up, man? with fat gum and tetsutetsu both still out, you guys must be drowning.”
kirishima’s expression fades a bit. “it's been rough,” he admits. “fat gum’s doing way better, but he’s still on leave for at least another month. tetsutetsu's in way worse shape though. they’re still trying to safely remove the fused pieces of that damn aegis frame from his arms and torso. the doctors said the material bonded weird with his quirk. he might be out for three or four months minimum.”
mina’s expression softens. “that’s so awful, kiri. i saw the news clips, it looked painful.”
“it sucked to be there and witness it,” kirishima says quietly. “the rest of us are picking up the slack. fat gum's having me lead all of his patrols and sitting in on agency meetings i used to never touch. don’t get me wrong , i’m happy to do it. but dude… it’s a lot. we were already short-staffed as it is, and the commission keeps pushing for more visible presence since the accident made headlines.”
bakugou grunts, arms crossed. “one shitty piece of gear and suddenly the whole agency’s crumbling.”
“yeah,” kirishima sighs. “we’ve been told to be extra cautious with any new support equipment for now. a lot of heroes are side-eyeing anything that came out of hashima recently, since aegis frame was their gear." mina perks up. "oh yeah, my agency sent out a message about gear too!"
denki whistles. “mystery girl's the least of your problems right now, pal.”
kirishima lets out a snort, running a hand through his hair. “tell me about it.”
the conversation gradually lightens again as the group finishes their meals, the usual banter returning. after they pay the bill and file out of the restaurant into the cool evening air, mina gives him a big hug.
“try not to overwork yourself, okay? and if mystery girl writes back, you better text me asap!” she says with a wink.
“will do,” kirishima promises, smiling.
denki and sero say their goodbyes and head off together toward the train station. mina waves and disappears into her own car with a cheerful “night guys!”
that leaves him and bakugou, walking toward the parking lot where bakugou’s sleek black camaro is parked. since they both lived in kyomei building, they often carpooled after group hangouts.
the drive starts off quiet, the city lights flashing past as bakugou navigates the streets with one hand on the wheel. kirishima stares out the passenger window, watching the blur of buildings.
after a few minutes, bakugou breaks the silence, voice gruff as usual.
“you really fuck with this lawyer chick?”
kirishima glances over, a little surprised. bakugou rarely brought up conversations like this, and it was evident he was annoyed with all mentions of her from the beginning.
“i don't know,” he admits. “i guess it was interesting to hear about someone who sees the hard parts of the world.”
bakugou huffs. “don’t get your hopes too high. people are usually disappointing.”
kirishima chuckles softly. “yeah, maybe. but i’ve got a feeling about her.”
the car falls quiet again, the low vrring of the engine filling the space. kirishima leans his head back against the seat, exhaustion from the extra shifts finally settling into his bones. between the increased workload at the agency and the hope that mystery girl would write back, his mind felt unusually full these days.
bakugou didn’t say anything else for the rest of the short drive, but that was fine. for kirishima, his best friend’s silent presence was comforting enough.
when you returned back to your apartment and set down your bag on the kitchen nook, your eye catches on the opened cream letter that had been there since you got it. you wanted to walk past like you have been doing, but today the envelope seemed to glow under the warm light of your pendant lamp.
you kicked off your black work heels, pouring yourself a glass of cold green tea instead of wine this time and finally sat down with it in hand at your desk. you knew the words by heart at this point.
your thumb brushed over the peculiar handwriting. you wanted to giggle at the little faces at the end of his sentences. they reminded you of your doodles you used to do on your old letters in high school. it was disarming to say the least, the way you were equally curious about him.
you pulled out a blank sheet of stationery from your old collection and stared at the empty page for a long time, pen in hand.
what the hell do you even say to the man you accidentally trauma-dumped to?
with a sharp inhale, your fingers moved before your brain could talk you out of it.
kirishima nearly dropped his protein shake when he checked his mailbox that friday evening post-gym run. he knew the way your stationery looked given he's read your letter exactly forty-two times since he received it. his heart did a stupid flip as he took the elevator to his apartment. once he was inside, he tore the envelope open with way more enthusiasm (and care!) than a grown pro hero should have, and sat on his couch.
his grin was so wide it actually hurt his cheeks. he read the letter twice on the couch, then once more while standing in his kitchen cooking dinner, and then a fourth time while sprawled across his bed like a teenage girl. the stationery smelled faintly like daisies and something aromatic, maybe her perfume or just the scent of her apartment? he didn’t care. it was perfect.
“manly,” he muttered to himself after pumping a fist once and catching how ridiculous he looked. “real manly. okay, chill, eiji.”
he stood up, stretched his arms overhead until his shoulders popped and then sat down at the small desk in the corner of his living room. he uncapped a pen and started writing nearly immediately.
did anyone feel the krbk moment there...
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