Chapter 24: BONUS CHAPTER: Beginning of a New Rivalry?
The last of his homework was finally done. Izuku stretched, pushing back from his desk and leaving his room for a glass of water. He was halfway to the kitchen when he stopped.
Nemuri was in the living room, digging through her purse for something.
He padded silently to the fridge, pulled out a cold water bottle, and leaned against the counter, just watching her. She was dressed up. Really dressed up. A sleek black dress hugged her frame, ending high on her thighs to meet a pair of sheer black stockings. She wore open-toed stilettos that clicked softly on the hardwood floor.
He had only ever seen her dressed so fancy for one of the Annual Hero Galas. He was sure those events happened only in the winter. That meant there was only one other reason to dress like that. It looked like she was going on a date.
He took a long sip from the bottle and decided to break the silence.
"So," he drawled into the quiet apartment.
The sound made her jump. She spun around with a startled gasp, her hand flying to her chest. "Zuku?" she breathed, the tension draining from her face in a rush of relief.
Izuku just smirked, taking another slow sip of water. "Going on a date or something?"
It wasn't that he had a problem with it. Far from it. He genuinely wanted her to find someone, someone who deserved her. It was just… in the five years he'd lived with her, he'd never once seen her get this dressed up for anything but a hero gala. If this was a date, then good for her. It was about damn time.
"Uh…" Nemuri's composure seemed to crack. She couldn't quite meet his eyes. "A-Actually, it's… it's nothing like that."
"Uh-huh," Izuku hummed, unconvinced. "Then why are you dressed so fancy?"
She licked her lips, her gaze darting toward the window. "Um… I have a meeting about a brand affiliate. W-With another Pro. They're… thinking of having us do an ad together."
The hope that had sparked in his chest fizzled out. "Oh."
Just work, then. Disappointment settled in his gut, heavy and cold. He really wished she would stop putting her own life on hold for his sake. The woman was a total romance fanatic; someone like her would definitely want to find love, right?
He pushed the feeling down and forced a bright smile. "Well, have a nice evening," he said, his tone deliberately cheerful. He'd support her no matter what. She'd saved him in more ways than one, and he owed her everything.
It worked. The tension in her shoulders eased, and a genuine smile finally reached her eyes. "Thank you," she said, sounding grateful. "I made dinner. It's in the fridge. Just make sure to warm it up in the microwave."
"Sure will, mommy," Izuku shot back with a sarcastic little salute.
He turned and headed back to his room, the sound of her soft giggle following him as he shut the door.
Nemuri ran a hand down the front of her dress, smoothing the material over her stomach as she checked her reflection in a dark glass pane. It was one of her favorites for a reason.
The sleek black fabric was a second skin, clinging to her mature figure. It pushed her breasts up, framing the valley of her cleavage, while a sheer panel plunged down her abdomen, offering a teasing glimpse of the skin beneath. The dress stopped high on her thighs, brushing against her with every movement. Below the hem, sheer black stockings hugged her legs, and open-toed stilettos accentuated their long, powerful lines. A soft, faux fur collar draped around her neck, lending her an air of both elegance and raw sensuality.
"Damn. You look sexy for an old lady."
Nemuri turned, not surprised to find Yu Takeyama standing there with a saucy smirk. The younger hero had a hand planted on one hip, which was cocked to the side in a practiced pose. She wore a glittering red dress with a neckline that dove past her navel, putting her inner cleavage and flat stomach on full display. It rode high on her thighs, and unlike Nemuri, she'd left her legs bare.
"And you look like you're for sale," Nemuri drawled without any real heat.
"Some of us know how to make that profitable, darling," Takeyama purred. She fluffed her blonde hair. "You, of all people, should know that."
Nemuri rolled her eyes. "I'm a changed woman."
Takeyama's smirk widened. She closed the distance between them, her own impressive chest just inches from Nemuri's. Tilting her head, she brought her lips dangerously close to Nemuri's. "You can play pretend all you want," she whispered, "but you can't change what you crave."
Nemuri's eyes narrowed. "Don't test my patience, slut."
"Don't pretend you aren't one, Kayama," Takeyama shot back, pulling away to glance at her phone. "Come on. We shouldn't keep our agents waiting."
She brushed past Nemuri, her shoulder deliberately bumping against the older woman's. Nemuri huffed but couldn't suppress the amused twitch of her lips. She loved feisty girls who thought they were tough. They were always the most fun to break. A brief image of Shosaki, soft and pliant in her arms, flashed through her mind. A shame she never came back for a second round.
"You coming, old lady?" Takeyama called from the hotel entrance.
Nemuri turned, her hips swaying with a deliberate, predatory rhythm as her heels clicked against the pavement. She would never let a rookie show her up in the game of seduction, a game she'd mastered long before this girl was even a hero.
"Let's go, hotshot," Nemuri said, gliding past her into the hotel lobby.
Takeyama let out an irritated little sound but followed without another word. They were met instantly by the restaurant's maitre d', a sharp middle-aged woman in a tailored black suit and pencil skirt, her dark hair pulled into a severe bun.
"Good evening, Ms. Kayama," the maitre d' greeted, her hands clasped politely in front of her. "Your agent is waiting at Table 25, your usual. Shall I show you the way?"
"No need to trouble yourself, Mrs. Kikuchi," Nemuri said, her tone pleasant but final. "I know the way."
The maitre d' bowed as Nemuri swept past, Takeyama trailing a few steps behind. The low hum of conversation in the high-end restaurant seemed to part for Nemuri. Heads turned to follow her progress, while Takeyama felt completely invisible. It was how Nemuri blended elegance with sensuality, an art Takeyama hadn't yet mastered. And it definitely made the younger woman a bit jealous. But then again, this was Nemuri Kayama, the heart of every Hero Gala, the woman who could supposedly seduce any man in the world.
As a waiter passed, Nemuri's hand shot out, plucking two wine glasses from his tray so smoothly the boy never broke his stride. She stopped, waiting for Takeyama to catch up before handing her one of the glasses. She hooked her arm through the younger woman's, pulling her close.
"My agent mentioned you," Nemuri said, taking a delicate sip of wine. "Transferred from the countryside to make it big in the city. I take it this is your first time somewhere this nice."
"Yeah," Takeyama said, her tone gaining a defensive edge. "What about it?"
Nemuri took another sip. "A little advice, since you're new here." She glanced at Takeyama from the corner of her eye. "In a place like this, showing that much skin just makes you look cheap. Like someone's paid entertainment for the evening."
Takeyama's gaze flickered down to Nemuri's own impressive cleavage. "Uh-huh. And what about you?"
"There's a fine line between sensuality and desperation, hotshot," Nemuri said. Her tone was low and instructive like a teacher giving advice to a student. "Show too much, and you're just flesh for sale on the street. Show too little, and you're invisible. But you show just enough… you become art. Something everyone wants but no one can touch. Add the right attitude," she smirked, "and you become priceless."
"Sounds weird coming from the woman who used to fight in pasties and a fishnet bodysuit," Takeyama grumbled into her wine.
"There's a time and a place for everything," Nemuri replied smoothly. "And just like you, I do love the attention."
They found Table 25 tucked away in a quiet corner where their agents were already waiting. The two men sat in sharp suits, their expressions so tight they looked painful. Rivalry between agents was always fierce.
"Hey there, boys," Nemuri greeted, her cheerful tone cutting through the tension.
Both men stood immediately. "Ms. Kayama," Nemuri's agent said, extending a hand. She took it. "Ms. Takeyama." After the stiff greetings were exchanged, they all sat.
When the waiter came, Takeyama hesitated over the menu, clearly out of her depth. Nemuri leaned over and tapped a finger on one of the listings. "Get the duck confit," she murmured. "You won't regret it." Takeyama nodded gratefully and placed her order. Once the waiter was gone, the focus snapped back to business.
"So," Nemuri began, pulling her chair closer and leaning her elbows on the table, "what's this brilliant new idea you dragged us out here for?"
"Allow me," Takeyama's agent said, clearing his throat. "As you know, Ms. Takeyama here is an up-and-coming heroine of considerable note."
Nemuri leaned back, glancing at the blonde. "Good for you, girl," she said, before her gaze returned to the agents. "And?"
Nemuri's agent took over. "We were thinking… a rivalry."
The word landed on the table like a dead fish. Both women frowned. "A rivalry?" Takeyama repeated, confused.
"Exactly," her agent nodded, leaning forward eagerly. "You, Ms. Takeyama, are skyrocketing. Your popularity is growing at a rate that mirrors Ms. Kayama's own rise back in the day. A rivalry between the two of you could be a massive turning point for both of your careers."
Nemuri looked at her own agent, waiting for the punchline. He just nodded in agreement. "He's right, Ms. Kayama. You've never had a proper rival in your specific field. Even All Might has Endeavor, no matter how forced that rivalry is. If we cultivate an organic rivalry between you two, it could boost your popularity into the stratosphere."
Nemuri rubbed the corner of her right eye. "Let me get this straight," Nemuri said, dangerously calmly. "You called me here to discuss a brand advertisement, and now you're telling me you want me to get into a manufactured catfight with a rookie?"
"Well, it is an advertisement," her agent tried to salvage the situation. "For your brand, Ms. Kayama."
"Uh-huh. And the catfight part?"
"We're not asking you to start it," Takeyama's agent pitched in. "The rivalry will be initiated by Ms. Takeyama."
"Me?" Takeyama recoiled. "I'm not getting into a rivalry with some old hag."
"Who the hell are you calling an old hag, you shameless brat?" Nemuri shot back with a dangerous dangerous hiss.
"You heard me, you dirty old hag!" Takeyama retorted in a venomous whisper.
"See?" Nemuri's agent chimed in, a smug smile on his face. "You two already have a natural chemistry."
Both women's heads snapped toward him.
"If you agree," Takeyama's agent began carefully, "we can have Ms. Takeyama start it in an interview. A challenge. Then you respond, Ms. Kayama. From there, it develops on its own. It's a classic story. The young upstart challenging the seasoned veteran. It could be the biggest hero rivalry of this generation."
"Or the most pathetic," Nemuri grumbled. She pinched the bridge of her nose, letting out a slow, tired breath. "You know I'm done with that life. I'm a teacher now. I'm trying to build a different image, and you want me to dive right back into the same old bullshit? What part of that sounds like a good idea to you?"
"Ms. Kayama," her agent said, looking genuinely distraught. "Please understand. This is crucial for your career. You used to be in the Top 10. Since you shifted focus, your ranking has plummeted. You're not even in the Top 20 anymore. Someone of your stature shouldn't be ranked so low."
Nemuri just rolled her eyes. "I don't give a shit about the rankings anymore," she said, her tone absolute. "They used to mean something. Now? They're just numbers. I have a good job. A stable life. I have no desire to go back to being that person."
"But your brand deals are suffering," her agent argued weakly.
"Couldn't care less," Nemuri replied with a shrug. She rose from her seat, pushing the chair back. The food hadn't even arrived, but she was done. "Next time you have an idea, make sure it's one I'd actually consider. Have a nice evening. The tab's on me."
She pivoted and walked away without a second glance.
Nemuri had just reached her car when she heard hurried footsteps behind her. "Ms. Kayama! Wait!"
She stopped and turned. Takeyama was standing there, looking genuinely worried. "Yes?"
"I just want to be clear," Takeyama said, a little out of breath. "That wasn't my idea. I had no clue what he was planning. If I'd known…"
Nemuri held up a hand, cutting her off with a soft sigh. "It's alright," she said, giving her fellow hero a surprisingly kind smile. "I know how agents are. Necessary evils, the lot of them. Especially when it comes to dealing with the big corporations."
"I just…" Takeyama looked away, flustered. "I was shocked they'd suggest that. I hope it didn't… ruin my first impression."
A real smirk finally formed on Nemuri's lips. "Don't worry, darling. You made quite the first impression long before they opened their mouths."
Takeyama fiddled with a strand of her blonde hair. "Uh… it was nice meeting you."
Nemuri watched her for a moment with a curious glint in her eye. The girl was so much like she used to be, it was almost like looking in a time-warped mirror. "It was nice meeting you, too." Nemuri paused, glancing from her car back to Takeyama. "Need a ride home?"
"Thanks for the offer."
The click of the front door opening pulled Izuku from his book. He'd finished dinner about fifteen minutes ago and had settled onto the living room couch. He lowered the book just enough to see Nemuri stumble in, looking completely drained.
"You're back early," he said, glancing at the clock. It had only been two hours. He figured brand meetings would take much longer than that.
She didn't answer, just trudged over and collapsed onto the couch next to him, sinking into the cushions with a heavy sigh. She swung her legs up, and Izuku shifted to give her space as she rested her head in his lap.
"It didn't go as planned," she mumbled. "God, I hate PR agents. They have the absolute worst ideas."
"Oh?" Izuku set his book on the coffee table and started running a hand through her hair, gently untangling the knots. "Bad idea, huh? I thought this was about a brand affiliate thing."
"That was bullshit," she snapped. "They lied."
Izuku didn't press, just kept massaging her scalp. "What was it really about?" he asked after a moment.
She let out another sigh. "They want me to start a rivalry with another heroine."
"A rivalry?" Izuku mused. It made sense. Rivalries sold really well, especially among heroes. All Might and Endeavor, Hawks and Best Jeanist, even Mirko and Ryukyu had their thing. It was a classic marketing play. "What kind of rivalry?"
A faint blush rose on her cheeks. "You know… the kind I used to be famous for."
Oh. Izuku's hand stilled for a second. He got it. Ever since he'd moved in, she'd worked so hard to move past her old persona. It was an almost impossible task to reshape a public image that famous, but she was doing it. Her popularity had taken a hit, sure, but she seemed happier.
"Well," he started, resuming the gentle motion, "it doesn't have to be that kind of rivalry. You could just… talk shit about each other, you know."
Nemuri lowered the arm covering her eyes to look up at him. "What?"
"Yeah, like trash talk. Sports fans do it all the time. Tenya and I do it over Real Madrid and Barcelona. You just find things to argue about on camera. It's harmless, and people love it."
"So you want us to just quarrel on live television?"
"Just a thought," Izuku said with a shrug. "Two beautiful, powerful women arguing seems like something that would get a lot of attention. Just don't go too far, you know? Keep it fun."
"I guess I'll have to think about it," she murmured.
"Who's the other heroine they want you to have this rivalry with?"
"Mount Lady."
Izuku couldn't help it; he barked out a laugh. "Oh, damn. That's either going to be a massive success or a spectacular train wreck. There's no in-between."
She rolled her eyes, but he could see the corner of her mouth twitch. "Win or lose. Such wise insight, kid."
"Hey, it was a good idea. Give me some credit."
"I'd expect a better plan from you."
"Whatever. You just don't appreciate my genius."
"Because it's usually just you being a brat."
"And your humor is so much better?"
"Obviously."
Izuku smirked, feeling the tension finally break. "See? You're already a natural at this."
Nemuri just shrugged, a small, genuine smile finally breaking through. "Maybe. It does seem kind of fun."