"Hey, Jirou!" The girl raises a brow, looking up from tuning her guitar before lighting up at a familiar face. "Oh. Hey! What are you doing here?"

"I was walking by so I thought I'd say hi," the blonde giggles, waving at many familiar faces as the musician smiles. "Well, I'm glad that you're getting out of your office every once in a while," She eventually packs away her instrument, swinging it over her shoulder, "I was just about to leave. You wanna go spend it somewhere? This freedom of yours is pretty rare."

Melissa laughs, pushing up her glasses with a nod. "Sure, sure. Got anything in mind?"

Jirou shrugs her shoulders as they leave the building, waving goodbye to her band mates and walking out into the harsh daylight with the young inventor by her side. "Been in the mood for fries lately. And I'm sure Y/N feels the same way, that girl eats anything I give her," The two share a heartfelt laugh, crossing the street promptly. "Oh yes! How is Y/N, has she been resting enough? She better not be overworking herself, Millie told me she's been working a lot more than usual."

"You're one to talk," Jirou scoffs, before shaking her head. "But she's been well. Found her sneaking a guy out of our apartment last. . . Thursday? I think?" She snickers, the two turning a corner, "Yeah. About time, right?"

"Oh my goodness," Melissa once again laughs in amusement, apparently having the energy to do it repeatedly with no fail, placing both her hands on her hips. "How scandalous! What's his name?" Jirou sighs, the parking lot with both her truck and a food stall coming into view. "She refuses to tell me, I'm starting to think she's dating a criminal."

"Let's hope not," The blonde giggles as they stop in front of the colorful vehicle. It was a standard hotdog and french fry stand, some tables and chairs situated right beside it with umbrellas. One was free, so they took the liberty of using it, Jirou offering to order for both of them.

She does so, asking for one of the hotdogs and serving of fries to be packed for take out. Because as annoying it is to admit she cares, she didn't exactly want you to starve.

Eventually she goes to the table with their food in hand, bringing two milkshakes they hadn't discussed about. "What's this?" Melissa laughs, gratefully taking one as Jirou shrugs with a small smirk. "Eh I don't know, I feel quite generous today." She snorts with a tease, "Why? You don't want it?"

"Yes I do. . !" The blonde catches herself, clearing her throat, "I mean yes, yes one would be nice." The musician chuckles as she takes her seat, the two conversing about the very different lives they lead and mostly just catching up from the last time they saw each other.

"Oh yeah I've been meaning to ask— are you going to that fancy rich-people ball too? Because I'm sure Momo-chan invited you already," The inventor nods, "Yup! My dad's been wanting to form some sort of partnership with another foreign company for some time now, so I have no choice but to go. I will be seeing all three of you there, right?"

"Of course! Plus, I doubt we'd have much of a choice," She jokes, picking on her jacket with a small pout, "Though I am still kinda sad that Uraraka-san won't be here. She deserves to enjoy these things every once in a while." Melissa sighs, "Sadly. But!" Clasping her hands together, she puts on the biggest smile she could muster, "Let's not feel too bad for her, she wouldn't want that at all."

The two share a giggle, before nodding and continuing on with their conversation. "You're right. So, got anything top secret to report?" The blonde snickers at that, rolling her eyes, "Ever the gossiper. Hmm," She furrows her brows in thought, before her mouth opens at a realization, "Oh yes! Have you heard of the shooting last night? It happened pretty near the office actually."

"Shooting?!" Jirou chokes, quickly wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her jacket as the other girl nods. "Yes! The police don't know who's being targeted yet. I mean there is a theory, but seeing as it hasn't been confirmed we might as well take it with a grain of salt. Anyway yes, for now they just closed down the building." The purple head nods as to try and absorb that information, questioning as to how this hasn't reached the mainstream news yet. "Well, I'm glad you're safe. Did anyone. . . y'know, get shot? Or. . . commit die?"

"No, thankfully. No one knows who's being targeted, seeing as the bullet completely missed everyone." She looks off, trying to recall, "I mean, it did land somewhat near Mr. Centrabridge, so we can assume that it's him?" Jirou raises her head, as though trying to recognize that name but ultimately failing. "Right, right, I'm gonna assume that's a rich dude worthy of an assassination attempt, so he should probably double up on security."

"Sadly, I do hope he stays safe, even if I don't know that much about him." She shakes her head, eventually moving on, "Now enough about that! How are you and Momo?"

She gets met with Jirou slamming her head with her hands, almost screaming in worry as the girl's face turns red from both embarrassment and the mark slowly forming in the shape of a palm on her forehead and nose. "Jirou-san!-"

• • •

The musician hums as she exits her truck, plastic bag in hand and locking it up. She adjusts her guitar on her shoulder, walking towards the building while trying to finalize a melody. She planned on rehashing some of her drafts, and a Sunday afternoon spent in her new room that didn't smell like shit doing it was the way to go.

She reaches the entrance eventually, about to enter but stop as a man in a suspiciously familiar coat blocks her way. They awkwardly shuffle while mumbling apologies as to try and walk past one another, but they eventually settle with Jirou going through the left. They bump shoulders—one can say, she can't exactly reach his shoulders with her own—and thought that was the end of it, but she couldn't help but do a double take as she smells something familiar.

Did he. . . no. No way he could have that perfume.

I mean, he probably just had the same one, but. . .

She looks over her shoulder with a small frown, watching as the man turns a corner and out of sight. Maybe she was just overthinking it, but a part of her had a sinking feeling that he had somehow managed to put your particular perfume all over himself. He came from the building you and Jirou lived in too, so the red flags going off in her head was enough for her to curse under her breath and promptly follow after.

She hastily places all her belongings inside her truck and locking it once again, clutching onto her phone and keys tightly as she goes after the stranger.

"This is a bad idea, this a bad idea, this is a really, shitty idea," She huffs to herself, looking both ways before slipping into an alley. Christ, why were there so many alleys to hide in around here? Thought that only happened in movies.

She shakes her head as she tries and walk as quietly as possible, almost gasping as he sees him in the distance. She hides behind a wall, eyes narrowed as the man scans the area quickly before disappearing behind a path that seemed to be well hidden behind a green dumpster. She hisses, walking after with shaking legs as her knuckles whitened around her weapon of choice. She had pepper spray and a switch blade she kept around for other reasons, but self defense could definitely be one of them.

She arrives by the dumpster, narrowly avoiding the man's gaze who looked behind him without warning. She sucks in her breath as quietly as she could, before slipping past the dumpster and inside the dark narrowing to follow after. As she was about to emerge from the other side, she promptly stops with the regrettable sounds of the skidding from her sneakers, inhaling as to try and see if anyone had heard her.

"Where the hell have you been?" She quietly swallows a lump in her throat, glad that they somehow hadn't. There was a pause, and then the sounds of quiet sniffing. "What the fuck is that?"

"Perfume." A slightly breathy voice retorts matter-of-factly, only now realizing that they were speaking in Japanese. What a coincidence, boy was Jirou glad she hadn't completely forgotten how to speak it. Understanding wasn't much of a problem, but it does beg the question of who these people were and how suspicious they looked lurking around in corners as dark as where they were, hidden from society as a whole.

"Whatever. Don't let Shigaraki—"

"The fuck did he do this time?" A low, almost scratchy voice comes out of nowhere, the musician hearing the annoyed click of a tongue as she takes out her phone to start recording. Maybe, no, they were definitely doing something illegal, and having evidence would never go wrong in any way.

She does so, listening more on the conversation with pursed lips. Because if she got caught now she'd be really fucking screwed.

"He got involved in a chase, saved the designer woman from some kidnappers and just came back from visiting her penthouse." The small sound of a punch landing made the musician cringe, feet itching to run away but not wanting to miss out on whatever was happening here.

. . .

Designer woman. . . penthouse. . . Christ almighty she was right! It was your perfume!

But soon her brows furrowed in both deep though and confusion. What chase? Kidnapping? You almost got kidnapped? Again? What the hell, did you know these people? Why did you know these people?? Did you know they were having a shady meeting in an alleyway out of all places? Why haven't you called the police yet?? What else were you hiding behind her back?!-

"You really never learn, don't you?" There was a few moments of silence, the purple haired not stupid enough to probably guess that they were standing head to head glaring at each other. The dread and tension in the air was heavy, before the voice of a much younger girl sounded out from behind them and, either it worsened or lessened the effect of it, Jirou wasn't sure yet. "Now kiss. . !"

The sounds of a thwack and an audible 'ow!' made Jirou bite her lip to stop herself from reacting, thumb forming the discoloration on the black screen of her phone from the pressure as the scratchy voice hisses.

"And you can't seem to hit a target properly," The other bites back, the lines between regular and sexual tension blurring to the point where the musician felt sympathy towards the girl who had the guts to point it out. "You didn't even graze him. And yet you think of yourself so high and mighty?" There was a scoff, "How pathetic."

Before she could hear anything else, the same girl from earlier intervened, everyone settling in silence. "Shiggy, someone's here," She spoke in a low whisper, and it made Jirou's heart drop.

Not giving them a chance, she stops the recording and dashes the fuck out of there as the words 'get them' made her run even faster.

She jumps the dumpster from the sounds of quick footsteps behind her, taking sharp turns and trying to keep a level head as she tries to remember where the main road was. Jirou had the shittiest sense of direction, and this whole situation of a literal maze didn't make it any better.

"Hey there, pretty!" The sounds of maniacal laughter from behind made her cry out as she once again turns a corner, narrowly avoiding a literal knife that came flying past her. Who was she gonna call for this!? The police, or the NYC Asylum to report a bitch who got out!?

Before she could once again out maneuver her, she was met with the ground as the crazy, probably-an-escapee's body crashes onto her, yelping in pain as her phone flies out of her hands and slides across the pavement. "You naughty girl~!" She sang as the musician squirms underneath her, trying to claw her way out. "Let me go!"

"I don't think so," She giggles a pitch too high, digging her knee harder onto Jirou's back as she cries out weakly. "You wanna tell me why you were spying on us?"

She could tell from the way she spat the word that she was quite serious about this, the knife dangerously glinting next to her face that had a tear slowly sliding down. "I swear I didn't know-"

"Bullshit!" The girl once again laughs, her other hand grabbing the back of her probably-next-victim's neck and pushing it down onto the concrete, as though she wasn't already down enough. "I don't like. . . liars. . ." Her voice drops slowly down to a whisper the closer she got to her ear, baring her fangs with the look of a vampire that hadn't eaten in forever.

And she kind of was.

Her lips barely grazed the musician's neck before she feels a foot connect with the side of her stomach, hissing as she lands just beside Jirou. "What the hell, Shiggy!"

The purple haired girl takes this opportunity to scramble away, grabbing her phone and getting up to her feet. Wasting no time, she runs off to exit the alley.

But waiting at the end was the man she saw earlier, slowly slipping off his gloves as she skids to a stop and curses. "Hey, hey, don't kill her, you prick," A man in a mask calls out, slipping past the two from behind and standing in front of the clearly frightened girl. He tilts his head, the musician slowly raising a shaking hand that clutched tightly onto her switchblade. "Stay back!" She huffs, head going back and forth in a panic between all of her perpetrators.

"Cute," The girl that had chased her earlier snorted, back on her feet as she slowly approaches her. She backed up to the wall pretty easily, her legs wanting to run more than ever.

"Toga." The scratchy voice from earlier scolded, the blonde only rolling her eyes with an 'ugh' and stopping in her tracks. "I wasn't actually going to kill her."

"You really think we'd believe that?" The masked man retorts, before looking back at the out of place civilian in their little group of ragtag bastards, twirling his gun with a hum. "Why are you here?"

She stayed silent, brows more furrowed than ever as she tries her best to hide whatever feeling of fear she had bubbling inside her chest. "She isn't gonna talk, fuckwad." The man called 'Shiggy' groans, walking towards the other man and grabbing him. He pulls him towards Jirou, a sneer on his face.

"She doesn't know me." He simply states, before walking away again but getting held back by the same individual. He still held a look of annoyance, before glaring at the masked man who only sighed. "Jirou Kyoka, twenty three, a freelancer. She's a guitarist and a lead singer in the band called Deep Dope, single, and lives with the designer girl Dabi is flirting with."

Shiggy, Toga, Dabi? Christ, they all had names fitting those of villains. And what's all this about flirting? When she joked that you were seeing a criminal, she meant it as just that; a joke! But hearing them talk so. . . casually and almost disapprovingly of it made the girl's stomach do back flips at the thought of you being involved with these, these. . . deviants!

She didn't even think twice about how they knew so much about her. Anyone could search about people, and even if she wasn't at your level of recognition, she still had a name among certain groups of interest.

"Jirou, huh?" Their supposed leader turns to her, the girl gladly glaring back with an unreadable expression on her face. He hums quietly, walking over as she only lifts the knife even higher.

Dabi rolls his eyes, not exactly finding this a great way to spend his remaining free time before he has to go back to work for tomorrow once again. He grabs his phone, the noticeable cracks on his screen making him sigh quietly as he reads a new message from you.

Hey
I'm bored lmao
Can you talk?

He stares at it, not being able to think of a great way to tell you that your roommate was with him and that she's in deep shit.

i dont think this is a great time, dollface

GASP are you cheating on me?

He could only imagine the shit eating grin that was on your face, thinking that no one would notice if he also put one on. But, it seems that they did.

"Hey!—" Toga skips away with his phone in hand, quickly scanning over the messages with a dramatic gasp of her own. "I'm gonna call her!"

"Don't you fucking dare," But by the time he got ahold of his phone again, you had already picked up. "Not a great time, you say?" Your teasing voice rings out, Dabi groaning inwardly and glaring at the crazy blonde bitch as he lowers the volume. "Yeah not really."

"HELP!" Jirou finally calls out, surprise that not one of them made an attempt to shut her up. "HELP!— These guys are fucking crazy!"

"You're the one crazy enough to follow a complete stranger," The masked one scoffs, before your muffled voice once again made all attention turn towards Dabi on the phone call. "Was. . . was that Jirou? Oh my God is Jirou there— Jirou!"

The girl scoffs as she dares take her eyes off the ones nearest to her, the fact that this random fucker had your number making her maternal instincts kick into high gear. "Dabi why the fuck is my roommate with you and why is she screaming for help? What are you doing to her?!"

"Alright that's enough," 'Shiggy' clicks his tongue, grabbing the phone and promptly ending the call before you could voice out another worried complaint. "What are we going to do with her, tho?" Toga pouts, the musician now glaring at her.

"Can we kill her?"

"No." Their leader glares at the girl, before turning back to the musician. "Phone."

She remains silent once again, clutching onto her device tighter as the man stalks dangerously close. "I said, phone."

. . .

Sensing that she still refused to cooperate, he takes it for himself despite her iron grip on it, easily opening it with her fingerprint. He opens the gallery, looking for any video or pictures that she might've been able to get of them. Finding none, he moves onto the voice record app and, much to his delight, finds what he was looking for among many other demos and drafts.

He quickly deletes it, before handing the phone back and sidestepping away, pushing off his comrades as he urges her to walk away. Seeing as she still stayed, eyes cautiously scanning over them, he sighs and orders the rest to keep moving, finding that waiting for her to run or shout for help would be a waste of valuable time.

And so Jirou was left alone in a random alleyway, bruised, clothes now ruined with no evidence about these guys left.