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Silver Fire

Chapter Text

A pair of hands, dark-skinned and perfectly manicured, slammed down on the desk in front of you. Without looking up from the paperwork you were filling out, you hummed acknowledgement. The owner of the hands was panting, having clearly run from her own office to yours. You used the time it took her to catch her breath to finish filling out your report.

"Start packing," she finally said.

"Excuse me?" You muttered, turning the page over to start filling out the back side.

"There's gonna be an emergency, and you have to be there to heal someone, but we're in the wrong country."

"And what country are we supposed to be in?" You asked, finally looking up from your papers.

"I... Don't know." Her hair was in a bun at the base of her neck, but the run from her office to yours had knocked a few micro braids out of it.

"Have you ever had a premonition that specifically told you to go to another country before?" You stood, tucking your own (h/c) hair behind an ear.

"No, but I'm absolutely certain that we're in the wrong country right now." You could tell that it was a true premonition because her normally brown eyes were glittering gold.

"Okay, Inara, sit down. Let's figure the details, and go from there." You went to the mini fridge next to your desk and pulled out two bottles of water, passing one to Inara. Inara did as she was told, taking deep breaths to settle herself.

"(Y/N), I think this is the biggest premonition I've had since that earthquake two years ago," Inara said, staring down at her hands.

"That's alright," you said calmly, settling back into your chair. You tucked the unfinished paperwork into its respective folder and set it aside, pulling out your notebook instead.

"Let's start with when ," you said, clicking your pen.


The trip from America to Japan was more exhausting than expected, and Inara suggested getting a hotel immediately. The walk to your hotel, however, brought you past a restaurant that smelled too good to ignore. A tug on Inara's sleeve and a finger pointed at the building was all it took to convince your childhood friend that the detour would be worth it.

You were teaching Inara how to hold her chopsticks when someone decided to interrupt. That someone was an oversized crocodile-looking fellow that insisted his plate didn't match what he'd ordered. How that drove him to swinging a clawed fist at the waiter was beyond you, but you didn't get your hero's license to watch waitstaff get smacked around. With a sigh, you set down your chopsticks and stood up.

"Leave it alone, friend," you said tiredly. "No one wants trouble here. Why not have the staff bring out the plate you did order?"

"NOT GOOD ENOUGH!" He yelled, turning toward you. You glared at him, crossing your arms.

"Why not? Getting arrested over some sashimi doesn't seem worth it to me." He just roared, charging you now. Inara yelped, falling backward out of her chair as she tried to stand up.

Just as you shifted your weight to better receive your new guest, the door to the restaurant slammed open and your opponent stumbled to a stop, turning toward the interruption.

"Hey, you. Villain. Stop interrupting people’s dinner.” The man standing in the doorway was tall, muscular... And quite literally on fire.

"WRONG PLATE!" The crocodile yelled, now turning toward the flaming man.

" He's lost it," you noted drily as Croc charged Fireball. Fireball didn’t hesitate, putting his hand directly in the crocodile’s face and shooting fire right into it. You watched with a mixture of horror and amusement as the crocodile sank to the floor, unconscious.

Looking around, you spotted the waiter that had been struck and walked up to him. His face was a bloody mess, three or more cuts running from one corner of his face up and around to his forehead. It was hard to see details through the blood. The woman he'd collapsed into was in hysterics, but at least your new patient was unconscious.

"Settle down, Miss," you said in your best hero-voice. It wasn't much, but Inara was already approaching, so you let your friend take the woman's attention while you turned to the waiter.

Turning him so that he lay flat on his back, you pressed a finger under the corner of his jaw and touched your other palm to his forehead. Silver lines spread from your touch across his skin at jagged angles that reminded you of lightning bolts. Lightning quirk? You wondered, only vaguely curious. Such a small injury healed almost instantly, the skin pulling back into place and closing itself up neatly. Though his face was still covered in blood, you could tell he wouldn't have a scar. A quick check on his brain told you that there was no concussion; he'd probably passed out from simple shock. His nose had nearly come off, after all.

You were wiping the man's face off with a nearby napkin when a shadow passed ominously overhead. Ignoring Fireboy, you reached for a glass of clear liquid from the bar in front of you. Sniffing it, you grimaced.

"Sake," you muttered, setting the drink back down and looking around.

“Did you just use your quirk on this man?” His voice was gruff, and you had the impression that he was one of those people that was perpetually unhappy.

"Yes," you said shortly, "and now I'm looking for water to clean his face off. He'll wake up soon." As if on cue, the man on the floor let out a small groan.

"That’s against the law without a hero permit,” he said. You straightened up, turning to look at him. His arms were crossed in front of his chest, and you realized that his beard was on fire. Or, more accurately, his fire was in the shape of a beard.

"Well, good thing I have one of those," you answered, stepping around him to reach for promising-looking cup. Another sniff, and you were disappointed again. You should have known from the bubbles on the side of the glass that it would be soda.

"I don’t believe you. Show me your license, foreigner.”

"Only if you help me find a cup of water," you growled, already reaching into your pocket. He narrowed his eyes at you, then turned to one of the waiters that had gathered nearby.

"You. Bring a cup of water."

"Y-yes, Mr. Endeavor!" The waiter answered nervously. He practically tripped over himself to get behind the restaurant counter. By his reaction, you guessed you ought to have recognized Fireboy already. Pulling your hero license out, you offered it to the flaming idiot in front of you.

"I haven't gotten a Japanese permit, yet, but I'm told that an American license is still enough around here."

"...It is," he said, inspecting the plastic ID carefully. The inspection took longer than it should have, but finally he let out a huff of annoyance. "Dr. (L/N)." He handed the license back to you, and you shoved it back into your wallet.

"Thank you," you muttered, turning toward the waiter as he returned with an entire pitcher of water. The man on the floor had sat up, looking up at Fireboy - no, Endeavor -  with fear in his eyes. You took the pitcher of water and sank down to the man on the floor, dipping another napkin into the water.

"Thank you, Endeavor." The injured waiter said nervously, completely ignoring you. With a grimace, you took his chin in your hand and forced him to turn toward you.

"Thank him later," you ordered, "I need to make sure I healed you properly, first."

"(Y/N)," Inara said in her most exhasperated voice, "he's clearly meeting someone he idolizes." Inara spoke in English, still a beginner at Japanese. You grunted in response, wiping the man's face off with the damp cloth.

"That’s a certified hero you’re talking to, boy. Treat your doctor with respect.”

"Well, you'll be alright," you said, straightening up, "but please eat more broccoli." Endeavor was still glaring at you when you turned away from the waiter. You frowned up at him, wondering why he was still around.

"Why you would tell him to eat more broccoli?" He asked, scowl still in place.

"Iron deficiency. Don't you have a crocodile to arrest?" You turned back toward your table to find Inara standing uncomfortably close, staring openly at the big man. "Inara." She jumped, blushing at your raised eyebrow.

"I didn’t account for his reptiilian anatomy," he admitted. "You should probably heal him or he’ll have to be admitted to the hospital."

"Fine," you grumbled, shoving her hands into your pockets and turning back toward the entrance. Two tables had been overturned in the chaos, but the waitstaff was already picking it up, some of them still sneaking glances at Endeavor.

The villain was, indeed, injured by the flames. It barely took a tap from your finger to fix him up, sending a rush of cooling energy and healing some minor burns, and by then the police had arrived. You watched with detached interest as the police interviewed Endeavor and packed their latest villain up into the back of one of their trucks. When they turned to you, you had to resist the urge to scowl. Was being left alone long enough to eat dinner really too much to ask?

Several minutes of answering questions - and a few compliments on your Japanese from the officer that interviewed you - and the police were on their way. Endeavor looked around, as if deciding where to go next, and caught your eye once more. You returned his look with a raised eyebrow.

"Can I help you?" You asked drily. Inara was standing behind you again, though this time she wasn't standing as close. That only really happened when she was nervous, and the danger had passed.

"Just stay out of my way, next time.” With that, the giant fireball produced flames out of his hands and feet and flew away. You watched him go for a moment, impressed by how fast he managed to move.

"Let's get back to- Inara?" Inara was staring after Endeavor, eyes glittering gold and full of tears. "What is it?" You switched to English, knowing that she would be too distracted to translate from Japanese.

" That's it," she whispered as a tear trickled down her cheek. You grabbed her by the shoulders, steadying her and sending in a little bit of comforting warmth with your quirk. " That's what we're here for."

" What is, Inara?" You asked, shaking her slightly. You'd never seen her so upset by one of her premonitions - not even when she'd sensed the upcoming death of your father. "Inara!"

" He is," she finally said, eyes fading back to dark brown. She stepped closer to you and rested her head on your shoulder, shaking with sobs. After a moment of hesitation, you wrapped your arms around your friend, letting her lose herself into your shoulder.