Chapter Text
“Do you like being number fifteen?” Chikara questions placing his glasses on the glossy oak desk that resided in his office. He was an older man, nearing Masaru’s age, and at times held that same unfortunate air of authority that Katsuki answered to out of habit. Like his father, Chikara hardly made a huge fuss about things but did well to make his discontent known. He kept his voice level and his words precise. Chikara knew how to communicate and had no problem doing it without the blanket of formality most people spend their lives carefully weaving together.
It’s one of the reasons why Katsuki had hired the guy. Amongst others, such as the fact nobody else would have the guts to ask him such a question without fear of being fired. No good could come of a publicist afraid to do their job because their boss may yell. He wasn’t paid to give a shit about Katsuki’s feelings, he was paid to make him look good by any means necessary; which sometimes meant telling him to shut his trap.
“Tch.” The blond huffs slumping into his chair. It was that kind of talk then. Katsuki’s aware that since birth he tended to have an affinity for putting his foot in his mouth— it was never an issue since he could beat the brakes off of anyone that had something to say about it. But now, at 25, he finds it to be rather difficult to apply that same method to his hero career. Everyone knew spotlight hero work involved questionable levels of pageantry.
When the League had gone and torn up half of Japan nobody wanted to see them prance around with their practiced smiles and rehearsed speeches anymore. He was grateful since he planned to do none of that.
The uproar must have been a passing irritation of sorts. He’d graduated U.A and went straight to work at Jeanist agency only to find the game was back on. Dynamight was the number four hero in Japan and had a press tour to tend to rather than patrol. Katsuki was only just getting started, planning to jump up to one in a single quarter and live the rest of his career peering down comfortably from the summit. So, he shook off the press tour, ignored Edgeshot's thinly veiled warnings about what his disdain for maintaining an image would bring. The tumble down to eight stung like a bucket of ice water, leaving the top ten after four years was a proper burial. Then Jeanist and all his fuckin’ insightful bullshit managed to light a fire under his ass one Wednesday afternoon.
“You’ve grown into a nice hero, Dynamight.”
“Shut up, I don't wanna hear a damn word about rankings.”
“Alright. Just want you to know it’s hardly a reflection of how you’re performing where it matters.” The man hums, running an iron over his jacket once more. It’s a routine Katsuki knows him to do before every patrol no matter how pristine he’d already looked prior. The only wrinkles Jeanist was known to have were the small lines beginning to set in on his forehead from a decade of dealing with him.
“Yeah well it fucking should be,” the sidekick sneers, rubbing harder at a particular spot of soot on his gauntlet.
“I don’t disagree, however the world isn’t ready yet. The people we protect ask this of us too. Spotlight Hero work is a greedy affair on both ends Dynamight… So if this is what you truly want, if this is what you need to feel you’ve accomplished what you wanted— then take it from a top five hero that never falters. Not caring whether you’re liked or not is no longer an option for you.”
He’d caved and added a PR department to his agency plans that very day.
They were miracle workers with Chikara at the head of their operation ready to slay all the dragons Katsuki planted in front of them like clockwork.
“Well?” Chikara questions with a flare of his nostrils.
“No.” Katsuki answers through gritted teeth digging his nails into both of his biceps as if to lock his folded arms in place. “Look, save the lecture, okay? I know I fucked up. But I was drunk and at an izakaya with my friends alright, I don’t know what asshole was so damn bored they decided to record me. Are you seriously gonna chew me out for being a regular ass twenty five year old for one goddamn night.”
“Yes. Because you’re not a regular twenty five year old Dynamight, you’re a brand and it’s my job to help that brand look appealing. That’s extremely hard to do when said brand goes drinking and feels the need to exclaim they hate denim the week of their campaign launch for a damn denim company.”
Chikara holds a finger up rendering Katsuki silent before he can even think to respond to that. Shuffling through his desk the man finds a bottle of aspirin and pops two of them dry, Katsuki was really tap dancing on his nerves today it seems.
Looking back he wishes he’d just joined Sero and his revolving cups of sprite with fruit juices mixed in. Being approached by Kapital wasn’t something that happened to everyone. In fact, he’d be the first public figure they chose to collaborate with after being obtained by one of the biggest fashion houses in the world. He was a very expensive notch on their belt for the company's debut under new management. If by some miracle he could fix this, he would— though groveling was on his “absolutely not” list of things anyone could make him do. He might learn if this left his parents in hot water within the industry they both so desperately loved. Mistuki would bury him herself if she found out he went and burned any bridges she may be building and his father would watch.
Fuck. This really isn’t just a him thing is it?
“I didn’t even mean it like that. It’s not my favorite but I was just sick of seeing it after having to live in it for the last three months.”
His stylist had found just about every item of Kapital clothing that fit her vision for him, he hadn’t been allowed to so much as pick a jacket to wear for an errand by himself. His world was a sea of denim in all shades, familiar in a way he hadn’t expected but equally as suffocating. It needed to be, it’s how his team worked their magic planting their carefully placed seeds of success. Chikara sighs, opening his laptop and typing away at something for a few moments, “I know kid.” He spares Katsuki a glance of understanding before grabbing a post it note and jotting something down. “The good news is nobody from Kapital has reached out about it. The bad news is we don’t know how long it will be until they do. We just need to get ahead of this.”
Katsuki lets out a humorless laugh unfolding his arms. Years of hero work, years of his blood sweat and tears, threatened by bad publicity for some fucking clothes. Nothing could ever be just one thing on the internet, this wouldn’t just make him a hilarious fuck up in the eyes of Japan. It always had to mean something more; He’d be a hypocrite, a money hungry hero that used his likeness to sell things he didn’t even like just for the payout. And from there on it would spiral outwards from all its little intersections. He’d be booed for not appreciating fashion fully and fall victim to the worst dressed list despite his stylist nor his style really changing. Bad Publicity makes anyone awful if the memes are good enough.
They’d hang him and leave him to dry with his legacy rewritten; Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight: the bratty capitalist that peaked in high school.
He hated the pageantry. It sent one on stupid spirals like this often even though he knows being seen grabbing lunch with Shoto or giving Red Riot an assist would have him back in their good graces within the month. Didn’t mean it was any less hell to go through. Weeks like those left him restless and itching to prove himself. It’s something he should’ve grown out of, he knows, but who knew PR work would bring about a whole new competitive side of him.
“Alright. What do I need to do?”
“Well. Lie, obviously. We both know you’re horrible at it unless it’s something confidential so I suggest we make a simple social media post.”
“Saying what? That video kinda screwed us. Can’t say it’s fake. All my friends are in it. And there’s at least five pictures of me there that night.”
“Yes but the best lies are hidden in the truth,” Chikara begins. He closes his laptop and reaches for the cup of coffee he’d let sit for some time now; it had to be cold but the man didn’t even flinch. The old bastard would never shut it when any of them dared to show their face with a cup of coffee that had ice. He’d go on about what a backwards generation they were and some more unimportant shit Katsuki drowned out with the shaking of his cup to stir his latte. Chikara stops for a second and holds the cup up a bit higher until its level with his bushy rectangular brows.
“You’re going to say that you were talking about Denny’s,” he declares slamming the cup down and turning the logo towards the blond. Katsuki only blinks at the man before him wondering if crazy had finally caught him in his old age. This was the master plan to save a five million yen deal? “But I do eat there. Hell, I pick up our coffee every second Tuesday from there,” Katsuki reminds the other in disbelief.
“And I better not see you with a Denny’s anything for the rest of your natural life. I don’t care if it’s a random water cup you need to wash out someone’s eyes during rescue. find a different cup.” Chikara makes a point of dropping his half finished coffee in the trash as demonstration.
“Fine. Fuck Denny’s.”
“Yes. But not in those words. I’ll have the team draft a few tweets for you. Check your inbox at lunch.”
✷
GEMGD 🧨 @Dynamight . 10m
“I said Denny’s you assholes. We all know where I started, I’ll always have an appreciation for denim, I like it enough to let @Kaptital_ofc shove a camera in my face.”
*insert amazing art of his campaign I can’t share because my iPad is broken.*
✷
PR Hag : Try not to do anything that makes me want a smoke before noon tomorrow Dynamight.
22:03
Katsuki snorts, tossing his phone on the charging pad before rolling over.
✷
In his defense it’s just a little after noon when Chikara finally caves and lights a mevius.
“How.”
“I don’t know.” Katsuki replies staring at the ceiling, maybe if it came tumbling down on him and ruptured a lung everyone would take up that story for the week instead. Injuries and arrests, ideally would be what all of his media coverage consisted of.
“I don’t understand your generation at all,” Chikara huffs, extending his pacing route by a few extra steps. Each pass of his laptop earns another drag of his cigarette. Eventually Katsuki’s daydreams of being crushed to death so he can take a day off work are interrupted by the unwelcome smell of tobacco threatening to make home on the carpet. He sits up, crawling over to the wall, before standing and opening one of Chikara's office windows. How the taste of nicotine and dirt could soothe anyone is beyond him but he really couldn’t judge anyone; everytime Katsuki got stressed and wanted it to stop immediately he started sniffing his homemade chilli oil to remember the good kind of sting behind his eyes and not the very annoying one threatening to derail his sanity.
“This stuff doesn’t even matter. We cleared up the bigger issue. I don't really care about any of this” the hero sighs gesturing towards the trending topics on Chikara's laptop.
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#TheAmericanOrange
#RIPPop&CoDay
#Yukikaze
#DynamightHatesPancakes
#Dynabite
“I do not fucking hate Pancakes.”
The blond stares at the screen with disbelief strewn across his features. The tag was a new one since the frenzy of dynabite talk he woke up to that morning. Apparently everyone without a job spent the night discussing his dislike of Denny’s. Who knew some underwhelming western diner was so beloved by the masses? They lowball you on syrup and the hash browns are never crispy.
“You do hate pancakes, the internet says you hate Denny’s Pancakes and by proxy Americans.”
“Well—” Katsuki begins stifling a snort when the older man shoots him a glare from such a disheveled state in the middle of the room. “I'm gonna retire, I'm too old for this shit,” the man snaps ashing his cigarette. He said this every month when Katsuki had finally outdone himself somehow, got red in the face and started mumbling what the hero can only assume is colorful unprofessional threats at him until he calmed down enough to say real words. His computer chimes once more, it’s a special sound reserved only for mutuals on his official account and verified celebrities and corporations.
“Katsuki.”
“Will you relax, it's probably one of my idiot friends” he assures pulling out his phone to check for himself.
Replying to “ GEMGD 🧨 @Dynamight”
↳ Denny’s 🍳🥞 @Dennys_Jpn
Unfortunate! But that’s okay, as the Number One American Diner chain we only want the best hero’s in our booths, Top 5 Heroes eat free !
The hero reads the tweet a few more times before clicking on the profile hoping to find it’s some stupid parody account, instead he’s met with the glaring “official” in the bio and the blue check mark to confirm it. Katsuki smacks his tongue for the tenth time before realizing the metallic taste in his mouth is from actual blood and not the imagined prescience of it that usually arrived moments after his anger skyrockets.
“What is it? Dynamight?" The man approaches his laptop like a ticking time bomb unsure of what would render Dynamight of all people silent. It was usually nothing good. In one swift move Katsuki closes Chikara’s laptop and tucks it under his arm before storming out of the room “Screw all this media training bullshit I’m going to kill whatever lame ass intern they have behind that account” Katsuki yells stomping through his agency hallway. His employees are unphased by the steam coming out of his ears, they step out of his way and continue about their day like usual.
Don’t check it
He turns his phone on again to be met with a horrifying nine thousand likes on a five minute old post. Calmly Katsuki sets the laptop on his own desk and drags his hands down his face before checking again a couple minutes later. Twenty thousand likes.
He’s seeing white and tasting red.
Arashi steps before him, the assistant wears tailored black pleated trousers and a dark grey knitted mock neck sweater with both sleeves pulled up to the elbows. The only hint of real color being the thin magenta belt peeking out beneath the pool of fabric tucked in at the waist. “Evening Sir,” Arashi begins with a rehearsed smile, Katsuki has half a mind to just blow the bastard up and continue stomping around until he’s tired himself out. “Jeanist has been calling, should I–“
“Tell him to go to hell!” Katsuki snaps at the mention of his mentor. Of course his babysitter was calling, at every embarrassing turn Jeanist was waiting for him like a parent in your first few days of walking. His ego had taken a bigger hit than expected and the last thing he needed was Jeanist patting him on the shoulder encouraging him.
“He’s still licking his wounds, Best Jeanist, I’ll have him give you a call later take care !” Arashi assures the older pro before ending the call. Katsuki doesn’t even get a chance to blow his shitty annoying good for nothing assistants arms off before a paper cup holding his Inderal and small pudding cup are being dangled in front of his face.
“No.” He says immediately.
“I was given explicit instructions.”
“No.”
“Take the pill Dynamight.”
Arashi’s hospitable smile only grows as if they weren’t dealing with a gigantic toddler instead of doing something other normal thirty year old salarymen got to do. File paperwork, return calls, delegate everything the hero didn’t want to do himself until his evenings were free enough to bother some unfortunate soul from his high school. Anything but make sure their boss took his medication before stewing himself into a medical crisis. Katsuki still has an ICD, one that makes it all too apparent that his mood swings are cause for concern when it comes to the physical health he was so fixated on. It was an uncomfortable truth he’s forced to deal with via shock to his heart when his nerves got the best of him and he was working his way towards a panic attack.
That shit was the second most uncomfortable thing he’d felt since the sludge villain, usually, he was eager to avoid it— but no part of him was willing to be reasonable today. Not on the first try anyways. After a long minute or two of standing in that same spot he snatches the pudding cup accepting the crushed toasted nuts Arashi sprinkles on top immediately after.
The pudding nulls the bitter taste of humiliation on his tongue after a few bites. He had a pudding cup, and soon he would have revenge and that would be just as sweet. “Should I see if one of the interns can compile a list of Denny's shortcomings for you?” Arashi questions with a finger hovering over the buttons on the office phone waiting for a command.
“No, but ask legal what I can get away with saying before it’s considered defamation and not just my right opinion.”
✷
Replying to “ Denny’s 🍳🥞@Dennys_Jpn”
↳ GEMGD 🧨 @Dynamight . 1hr
That’s a self proclaimed title, I appreciate the enthusiasm though, I do the same thing. The difference between us is I don’t lose to a literal clown that sells burgers and does my job better than me as a side hustle.
15k Replies • 24k Retweets • ♡ 180k
___________
Kapital reaches out as planned and the world keeps turning for the next few days. Chikara decides to work from home the rest of the week and Katsuki doesn’t complain, it was nearing the six month mark anyways. His PR department was split into two teams, ones that loved the thrill of his more disastrous times of the year, and the other that really knew how to get him looking great for his spotlight rankings. Sachie, a woman younger than Chikara by ten years with a much more opposing demeanor, would soon be back with her grand list of ideas. Chikara would take a deep breath like always and leave them with a warning about not breaking what he fixed. The man was a workaholic though so it usually took an extra month before he fully stopped gracing them with his presence.
The hero actually shares his wish for peace this week because the anxiety of messing up the only brand deal he’d managed to land since the incident kept him on edge.
“Dynamight ! Very nice save today Sir, we’d love to get a few questions,” a mousy reporter with an unfortunate combination of patterns on his shirt says. Usually the hero would ignore them completely and fly out of there before the camera could focus properly. But his right gauntlet clasp was loose from what he could feel and the last thing he needed was it slipping off and accidentally clearing half a city block upon landing.
“One.” He says through gritted teeth
“Oh alright, that's great !”
The hero lets himself be positioned in front of a camera with a bright ass light clipped to it. He zones out almost immediately knowing it always took a minute or two before these people were actually ready to start.
“Dynamight ?” The reporter's voice echoes in his brain for a moment before the blond is able to come out of his daze.
“What.” He snaps more out of embarrassment than actual irritation.
“Always focused on work huh,” the reporter plays it off with a chuckle. Katsuki is almost grateful before the man opens his mouth again to ask, “you’ve sparked quite the debate on social media this week, many found your dislike for the diner brand to be quite offensive as well as the tone you took towards fast food workers. Do you care to clarify any of your statements?”
A blink.
“You went to school for six years to get on live television and ask me about a tweet I made while taking a shit?” The blond glares at the reporter before him that tries to maintain his polite smile throughout their interaction. The man has to mentally will himself not to go off on the idiot in front of him while a camera documented the entire thing. His team didn’t need to wake up to any more surprises. More importantly, Dynamight was supposed to be bigger than daily gossip stories posted in the back of some low tier tabloid.
“Uhhh,” the reporter glances at the camera nervously.
“Is this the groundbreaking journalism your lazy ass wants to waste my time with, all this over Denny’s,” the blonde continues on while adjusting his gauntlet on his sore wrist. For whatever reason the camera man slowly starts backing away from him. It’s not like he was gonna blow them up, he had to pay fines for shit like that now. His days of assault and battery with no consequences are far behind him.
“Denny's is a lovely place, Dynamight, It’s a family place accessible to all. I even proposed there!”
The blond looks down to the man’s hand clasped around the microphone with his station logo on it, and then back up to him with a raised brow at the lack of wedding band.
“How’s that working out for ya?” The hero smirks
“How's fift—”
The mic goes first, and the light from his focused detonation renders the camera lens useless by the time he actually gets his hands on it.
✷
GEMGD 🧨 @Dynamight . 30m
I refuse to believe you all wake up in the morning and think to yourselves “I should eat raw potatoes and powdered eggs with a side of mystery meat in three different forms.”
20k Replies • 70k Retweets • ♡ 249k
Replying to “ GEMGD 🧨 @Dynamight” 12m
↳
lol apparently you don’t since nobody likes the western food at the western diner, just the Japanese fusion foods. might as well stick to Sukiya. Personally, if I wanted to actually eat American food I’m going to Aloha table.
10.3k Replies • 6k Retweets • ♡ 90k
✷
From: @ayami.aloha.table.inc
To: Chikara.Dynamight.co
Hello, Dynamight !
I’m reaching out on behalf of my client Aloha Table .co, our headquarters in Japan are big fans of your work and very grateful to know a champion such as yourself recognizes and enjoys the quality of our food. In light of recent events we’d like to talk with you about a possible collaboration between our Tokyo and Musutafu Locations. We are looking to do a small promotion, a Dynamight breakfast consisting of an order catered to you based on our existing menu. If interested there is also an opportunity for future collaboration in honor of your birthday in April. Feel free to email us back when time allows it, you can reach me directly at…
✷
He should give them a bonus. Or throw them a party, maybe after he meets with the reps from Aloha table in a few days. Hell, they could have it at the damn restaurant. Katsuki weighs his options as he ends his patrol with more pep in his step than usual after an uneventful shift. The blond tells himself it’s a sign of a job well done, no one wanted to stir up any trouble when he was on patrol. Makes for a boring week but he’s been told to appreciate that sort of thing, the mundane days that don’t leave him in a hospitable bed.
The hero washes the day away in the private shower connected to his office before taking the envelope Arashi left on his desk with memos. He leaves his agency with a few goodbyes and a singular eye roll at his sidekick limping across the parking lot
.
“Pick up the pace or I’m hitting you with my car on the way out,” he calls after the teen who jumps at the sound of his voice before spotting her boss nearing his Porsche. “You weren’t this mean before you declared war on breakfast!” the girl yells back before using her quirk to cross the threshold of the agency once Katsuki’s engine revs.
“You haven’t seen a war yet, you’re working tomorrow.” He decides before driving off and ignoring the show she makes of choking herself out of frustration. The hero might’ve laughed if he didn’t share the sentiment for what awaited him at home, all his idiots probably at least two drinks deep waiting for his arrival. It’s Sparkplug's idea [like all bad ones usually are] to have dinner at his place tonight. Before Katsuki even makes it to his front door he can hear the low hum of a lively scene inside his apartment. A small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he takes a deep breath to ready himself for whatever scene was about to wipe the almost affectionate smile off his face.
“Yayyyy you’re home!” Denki squeals from his spot on Katsuki’s couch. Definitely more than two shots in.
Jirou tips a beer can his way in a salute with a knowing smirk “Hang in there Blondie,” she smirks seeing his eyes go wide at the abomination being mixed in his kitchen.
“What the fuck.”
“You said we couldn’t cook in your kitchen.” Sero reminds him taking a precautionary step back when the blond approaches after kicking his sneakers off.
“Then why the fuck are you in my kitchen doing–” Katsuki wildly gestures to the clutter across his counter and table.
“not cooking, we’re prepping. See you get to do all the work like you wanted to buddy. No harm done,” Sero pats his shoulder, taking up his can of sprite on the table and offering Katsuki the other. With a defeated sigh he takes it, lets the bubbles burn the back of his throat in a good way before he lets Eijirou know he’s about to have the densest waffle known to man if he mixes the batter any more than he already has.
At least they had the decency to buy their own groceries to fuck up in his kitchen.
“Oo hi Katsuki!” Mina throws her arms around him in a quick hug once she re-enters the kitchen. “Did they tell you yet?” The woman beams plopping down on the chair before him.
“Tell him what?” The rest of their friends echo, turning to stare at them.
He scoffs to keep from laughing and focuses on the ridiculous omelette Denki has him making. “yeah. I’m signing contracts at the end of the week so it's pretty much done,” he tells her not offering much of an explanation to the nosy fucks on the couch. It’s Eijirou’s too big smile and thumbs up that does him in, the fucker would be happy for anyone about anything even if he didn’t have a clue what the secret was. He could be mean to that, but the annoying shriveled up part of him that says be nice revives itself every now and then when the redhead wants something.
“All that shit talking with Denny’s made a couple restaurants reach out to me. It’s just easy publicity but I was feeling petty so I said why not. They’re gonna have a Dynamight inspired menu or something during April for my birthday. But first we’re doing a breakfast thing. What I usually order, it’s nothing crazy. Actually kinda stupid why would anyone care to buy what the hell I ate for breakfast?” He rolls his eyes, plating Denki's omelette next to the stack of waffles he’s arranged for himself.
“Yeah, I wonder why Bakugou,” Sero feigns confusion, shaking the box of All Might cereal [not provided from their grocery haul but Katsuki’s own pantry] extra loud as he pours another serving into the bowl before him. So he still liked buying things pertaining to one of his six interests at the big age of twenty five. Sue him. Mina snorts, refusing to look up from her plate and Denki does the same, though his shoulders give him away.
“You seriously got a brand deal out of this mess? Leave it to a man to fail upwards,” Jirou chimes in, saving the two idiots from leaving with ringing ears. To that Katsuki smirks remembering how he’d gotten into this mess in the first place. It really was a ridiculously lucky outcome.
“They called me a top ten drop out on All-Mights internet, I deserved compensation.”
“I’m sure it’ll cover half the therapy your ego is gonna need from that” Eijirou states, patting his shoulder with a wide grin on his face.
“We should grab breakfast together once you announce it,” Sero suggests whilst typing away on his phone before meeting his gaze.
“Do you give yourself an extra pancake— sorry, waffle, when you go up a rank? What’s number fifteen's breakfast versus number four’s breakfast?”
“I’m killing you on your way home tonight.”