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It wasn’t that Toshinori’s career wasn’t doing well. It certainly was. He’d had strong releases one after the other pretty much since he came onto the scene some twenty years ago or more. They weren’t all blockbusters, but they pulled in decent profits and tended to be popular. They almost always won some sort of award at the end of the year. But the industry was changing-- or maybe it was the market. Either way, his manager approached him with an idea one day, and he was fairly adamant about it.
“You should do a superhero movie,” Nighteye said, fixing Toshinori with that no-nonsense look that he was so good at.
Toshi wasn’t so sure. “Star in one?” he asked, eyebrow raised skeptically. He’d done action films before, but most of them tended towards ‘office worker who gets caught up in crime drama’ kind of stories. Weren’t superhero stories a little too straightforward for him? Didn’t the heroes have to be… kind of buff? His characters could sling a gun, or set clever traps, but he couldn’t imagine even the comic-book crowd believing that someone who looked like him could perform daring feats that required any amount of muscle.
Nighteye gave a knowing smirk. “I came across a script from a relatively unknown author, and I know you’re going to like it.”
As much as Toshinori wanted to protest, because fantasy had never been his forte, not even modern fantasy like superhero stuff, his manager had exceptionally good taste when it came to his business. Nighteye had never led them wrong before. So Toshinori agreed to give the script a look, reminding the man several times that he hadn’t agreed to anything more, even though they both knew how this was going to turn out.
x
He couldn’t be too surprised, because he knew that Nighteye always picked winners, but Toshinori was still rather shocked that he’d taken the script home and spent the next few hours reading through it like it was the month’s biggest page-turner novel. He couldn’t put it down. The basic story wasn’t exactly a world-class groundbreaking new idea, but the details and the humor of it made him excited for each new scene.
The concern he’d had about playing a superhero was answered pretty early-on in the script. It was a bit unfortunate that Nighteye had had to spoil that part in order to explain the plot to him, because he thought it would have been a real good twist, but it was written and framed in such a way that was still enjoyable. (Still he wondered if maybe they could get the trailers to keep it a secret. Hitting the audience with something like that usually had outstanding results.)
So, as it turned out, he both would and wouldn’t be playing a superhero. His character, The Almighty, was a superhero-- the usual musclebound sort-- but Toshinori would only be playing his civilian identity. It was clever, different. He didn’t watch a lot of that kind of movie, but he was led to believe that heroes’ disguises were usually absurdly obvious. A pair of glasses; a different outfit or hairstyle; something that would have been ruined if any of the other characters had half a brain. But this made some sense.
(Well, kind of. The whole concept of Almighty changing shape when he activated his power was a little bit out there, but apparently it wasn’t too weird for superhero fare. Nighteye claimed that transformation superpowers were pretty common in these stories, and that the twist in this case would be the fact that Almighty didn’t transform into a monster or an animal, but just a bodybuilder.)
Of course that left them with the task of finding someone who would play Almighty’s hero form, who could reasonably be confused for Toshinori in very bad lighting. If they couldn’t find a decent actor to handle the part, Toshi figured they could use CG to make him look heroic enough, but Nighteye insisted that it would feel more organic if they didn’t rely overmuch on digital effects (any more than they would have to, just because of the nature of the story).
“Don’t worry about that,” he said over the phone, after Toshinori had called to agree to the movie. He sounded distracted, like he was already busy working on something-- which was fairly normal for him. “I’ve got a few ideas. Leave it to me.”
x
As it turned out, it wasn’t hard at all to find someone to play Almighty. Toshinori had a cousin living in America who was apparently willing to temporarily drop his lucrative bodybuilder career in order to ‘help out his family’. Toshi had only met the guy a handful of times, and that was years ago, but Yagi seemed to think that was plenty enough for them to be close. Maybe it was all that time spent in America, but either way Toshinori found he actually didn’t mind much, once they met again a few weeks later.
(It was a little odd, that Yagi went exclusively by his surname, even in America. It was odder still for Toshinori, since it was his surname too. But apparently it was the man’s persona, so that was what Toshi called him, even after they’d met again and were close enough for him to use his given name.)
Yagi had never acted before, but he had a sort of larger-than-life personality that lended itself well to drama, especially high-energy stories like this. After his initial misgivings had settled, Toshi had the feeling that they were actually going to work quite well together.
Nighteye also had that feeling, and Toshinori was slightly suspicious about it.
“Something tells me you were several steps ahead,” he said to his manager, implying that the man had done his research into possible costars before even pitching the idea to him.
He sipped his tea. “Aren’t I usually?”
x
While the character Almighty was, in a way, the most important element in making this film (tentatively titled “Hero High”) stand out from the rest, he wasn’t actually the main character. The movie’s main protagonist was supposed to be a high school kid who became a hero through Almighty’s mentorship. This in itself was a little bit new to Toshinori; he didn’t often work with kids, let alone be essentially a supporting character to one.
“It isn’t going to be a cliche kids’ movie, I promise,” Nighteye told him, when he expressed some doubts.
Toshi didn’t know how a kid could be the main character and it not be a kids’ movie, but he had faith in Nighteye, so he didn’t complain. At very least, this would be something new for him, and it might expand his horizons a little bit.
There was apparently a list of possible candidates, but as of yet the casting department (and Nighteye, who always managed to have a say in these things) hadn’t settled on anyone. Nighteye had a favorite, but the young man was busy with another film at the moment and wouldn’t be able to come in for an audition until he was done, which might be a few weeks. Until then, they were reviewing some of the other options, and because there wasn’t a whole lot else they could really do until a lead was chosen, Toshinori sometimes found himself sitting in on the auditions.
The first audition he saw was a young man that he immediately recognized wouldn’t be right for the job. ‘Deku’ was supposed to enthusiastic and spirited. This red-haired boy didn’t look like he’d ever had fun in his life. He read the script like the only trait he’d remembered from the character sheet was determination. In Toshi’s experience, he didn’t seem like a bad actor necessarily, but it was clear that ‘light-hearted’ wasn’t exactly his forte.
One of the boys that came next caught him a little off-guard-- not because of his performance, but because he ended it by requesting that he not be cast in the role of Deku.
“This is a superhero movie, so that means there’s villains, right?” He gave them a grin that was a little dark and (aside from the light-hearted aspect) actually went pretty well with what they were looking for for the main character-- strong-willed and high-spirited. “My manager thinks this’d be right up my alley, but look, I’ve seen how hard it is to get out of type-casting, and I played the power-of-friendship do-gooder in my last two gigs. Gimme a villain part.”
There was nothing that any of them could promise him at the moment (especially since both of their main villains had already been cast) so they just thanked him for his time and sent him on his way, promising that they’d put some thought into the matter and let him know.
None of the auditions that came after that were nearly as striking as Bakugo’s performance, unfortunately, so it seemed that unless Nighteye’s pick finished his film and responded to them soon, the casting crew was going to have to go against the young man’s wishes and cast him as the protagonist anyway. Toshinori was thinking about this as he walked back to his apartment that afternoon, wondering what it would be like to work with young Bakugo. He seemed like a good kid. At very least, he was straightforward with his ambitions, a feature Toshinori appreciated in an industry as rife with drama as theirs.
It wasn’t like Toshinori to zone out, but this was a different kind of project than any he’d ever worked on before, so it commanded his attention more than he was used to, and consequently he found he wasn’t really watching where he was going, and he stumbled into the edge of a small construction site. He’d tripped over a cone and was half a step from falling into an open manhole when he heard a shout, “watch out!”, and a muted splashing noise, and was pushed back to the other side of the caution tape by a greenish blur. He fell on his ass, but as soon as he looked around he realized that was definitely the better of the available options.
“Are you okay?” asked the kid who’d saved him, who had fallen to his knees on the sidewalk next to Toshinori. “That could have been bad!”
Toshi was a little stunned. “I’m fine, thanks,” he said, dazed. He blinked heavily, and his gaze drifted down to the boy-- particularly his shoes, which were covered in the wet concrete he’d ran through in order to save him. “I’m sorry about your shoes.”
The boy looked back at his feet, which he’d been thoughtlessly sitting back on, and he grimaced. The soles of the shoes were covered, and the gritty grey paste was now smeared along the back of his pants too. He sighed. “They’re just clothes,” he said, though his tone didn’t match the dismissive phrase. A sort of light came on in his eyes as he turned back to Toshi. “Honestly, if you’re okay then it’s worth it.”
Nodding, Toshinori told the boy, “I am, thanks to you,” and pushed himself up off his probably-bruised butt. A bruised butt was definitely better than falling in a manhole, and at very least not significantly worse than getting covered in cement. He felt bad that the boy had gotten into such a mess, especially as he looked downright rueful at the state of his clothing (but only when he thought Toshinori wasn’t looking, like he was trying to keep a brave face). “Are you going to be okay?”
“Yeah…” the boy said with a forced smile. (And it wasn’t a bad forced smile; it was just that Toshi had enough experience in the acting community to know when someone was faking-- which was most of the time, since they were actors.) “I just hope I can hide them from my mom.”
“Let me buy you a new pair,” Toshi suggested. “It’s my fault they got ruined.”
The boy’s grimace was comical, an awful, wide smile that was ninety-five percent uncomfortable and five percent touched at the gesture. “Oh, no! I couldn’t.”
Now that he had his bearings, Toshinori realized he was just around the corner from his apartment complex, so he offered the next best thing he could think of, instead of insisting. “Then let’s see if we can salvage them. My place is nearby.”
He could see the boy thinking, made all the more obvious by the way he muttered under his breath. Toshi thought he heard him calculating quickly how long it would take him to get home, what his mother’s schedule was for the day, and the likelihood of making the mess worse if he tried to get on the train like this. Finally he looked up into Toshi’s eyes and nodded. “Please.”
They were halfway up to his floor, the boy with his shoes in hand so he didn’t track concrete all over the building, when Toshi realized he was bringing a kid to his apartment, and very much without his parents knowing. That was… that was kind of odd, wasn’t it? It wasn’t as if he was planning anything unsavory! But it still felt like kind of a taboo situation. Even so, the boy had saved his life (or saved him from a lot of discomfort, at least), and it would have been an awfully cruel repayment to have him go home covered in the shame of a good deed.
“The bathroom’s back there,” he said, pointing down the hall. “I’ll see if I can find something to get the stain out.”
“Thanks…” the boy said, distracted a bit by looking around the apartment. He didn’t say any more though, and he tore his eyes away from the relatively-fancy furnishings and the plaques lining the nearby wall, and went into the bathroom as suggested. A moment later, Toshinori could hear the water running, so he did a quick internet search to see what was best for removing concrete, and hoped he had some white vinegar.
A few minutes later found him carrying an armful of brushes and possible remedies down the hall to the bathroom, and a few seconds after that found him paused in the doorway, slightly shocked to see that the kid had stripped down to his underwear and a tight under-shirt, and was scrubbing at his various articles of clothing, leaning over the bathtub in a way that accentuated the curve of all the muscles in his back. And backside. Toshinori cleared his throat, and the boy… the young man, looked over his shoulder and blushed-- though he didn’t quit scrubbing.
“Thanks,” he said, nodding at the stuff in Toshi’s arms. “I think I was able to rinse most of it out before it dried. If I waited a lot longer I bet some of these would have been ruined.”
“Right. Glad to help.” Toshi handed the kid the things he’d brought, and tried not to notice how toned the muscles on his chest and stomach were. Did this kid work out? Maybe he was on his school’s football team. That would account for the way he’d tackled Toshi out of harm’s way. He was curious, but he didn’t feel it was right to ask while they were standing around in the bathroom and the boy was half-naked. “Er… let me get you some dry clothes.”
Unfortunately, everything Toshinori had in his closet or dressers was his size, so they were forced to endure the boy walking around in clothes that absolutely swamped him-- not much too wide in the shoulders, but certainly far too long. If he hadn’t rolled up the sleeves and tucked the ends of the shirt into the shorts he was given, he’d have looked like a little kid playing pretend with his parents’ clothes. As it was, he still looked woefully small, and it was very much at odds with the muscle definition that lurked underneath it all. Toshinori thought the best course of action for him right now was to just not think about any of it.
“Thank you,” the boy said as he wandered out of the bathroom with a sigh that was one part relieved and the other part weary. “If it’s okay with you, could I let them dry for a little while?”
“Of course,” Toshinori said, trying to sound as gracious as possible, but hoping not to come across as solicitous at all. “Make yourself at home.”
There was really nothing else he needed to do right now, and he didn’t exactly want to leave his guest to the empty silence of his apartment, but on the other hand he really didn’t want to hover either, so he compromised by retreating to the kitchen and brewing some coffee. There was only a half wall between him and the open space of the living room where the young man was gazing curiously at the awards and plaques arranged on the walls and shelves near their relevant movie memorabilia, so he could hear the quiet, “oh” when the boy apparently recognized him. It took a good bit of Toshi’s patience to just leave him be, instead of joining him to chat like he would with any other fan. But when the coffee was finished brewing, he did allow himself to pour a mug and bring it over to the boy, who’d worked his way across the room by that point.
“Oh, thanks,” the boy said distantly, as Toshi handed him the mug. (Two sugars and two creamers; Toshi wasn’t sure if kids drank coffee, but he’d figured sweeter would be more palatable.) With a bit of a bashful smile, the young man looked up at him and said, “I thought you looked kind of familiar. I’ve seen a few of your movies. They were pretty good.”
That was damningly faint praise, but Toshinori just laughed. Not everyone could be a fan, he guessed. “What kind of movies do you prefer?”
The boy cocked his head to the side as he thought about it. “I dunno,” he said. “I’m not sure there’s a specific type. Actually, I don’t really watch movies all that often.”
Maybe someone who wasn’t interested in movies wasn’t the kind of person who would want to be involved in creating them, but suddenly Toshinori found himself looking down at the young man and imagining the two of them on set together, surrounded by the cameras and bright lights, the director calling cues at them. He couldn’t help himself from asking, “Have you ever acted?”
The young man laughed, sounding a little embarrassed. “Not really. I was in a couple of school plays when I was a kid, but I don’t think that counts.” He looked up at Toshinori with a sort of nervous trepidation on his face, half a smile that didn’t know if it wanted to rise or fall. “W-why?”
Being in the film industry had probably instilled in him a sense of dramatic timing, because Toshinori didn’t consciously wait to answer the boy until he was sipping at his coffee, but he did pause, so when he replied, “I’m looking for a co-star for a new movie, and I think you might be it”, the young man spluttered comically, droplets spraying out in a wide arc.
“Um. I, uh, I… “
Inexplicably, Toshinori really wanted this kid to say yes. There was something about him-- perhaps it wasn’t star quality, but it was something that made Toshi think he’d be fantastic in this particular role, and suddenly he couldn’t see himself working along young Bakugo at all, not when he had a more fitting option standing right in front of him (in his oversized shirt, looking so tiny and very much the underdog).
“You don’t have to decide now,” he assured the boy. He pulled his phone out and started a new message to Nighteye. “I’ll forward your info to my manager, and he can give you the details. If you want.”
“O...oh, okay,” the young man said in a daze. (It was kind of charming, in Toshi’s opinion. The character wasn’t written as especially anxious, but it was a trait that he thought could really work for him.) He recited his number and just barely remembered to follow it up with a name, halting, and then rushed: “Mi...doriya Izuku.”
“Wonderful.” Toshi sent the message and was almost immediately rewarded with the little check that showed Nighteye had seen it. He wondered how long it would take for him to contact Midoriya, and hoped the man wouldn’t just ignore his suggestion.
Midoriya was biting his lip and looking up at Toshinori from under his unruly hair. It was a good look, one he was really starting to think could work for Deku. “Not to be ungrateful, but…” He frowned, clearly trying to find the right words. “What makes you think I’d be good for this role? Um, I mean--! Why me? This sounds like a big honor, and I’m sure there are other people who would be better suited to it.”
It was funny; that was almost exactly what Deku said to Almighty. Toshinori couldn’t help but grin. Of course, he couldn’t really tell Midoriya much about the movie until he’d signed on, so all he could say was, “You’ve got a look that would suit the character.”
“Covered in concrete?” Midoriya asked, giving a short soft laugh.
In a way, that was exactly it. It was the fervent desperation he’d seen on the boy’s face as he leaned over him out on the sidewalk, the leftover fear that a stranger could have come to harm if he hadn’t done something, the concern that had made him put himself at risk to save someone. That was a real-life trait! Knowing that there was a young man right here who was capable of feeling that for real, Toshinori couldn’t possibly agree to cast someone who was only pretending (even if that was their job). The more he thought about it, the more he wanted this movie to be a success, and real emotion was the surest way.
Instead of explaining in such superfluous detail, he said simply, “Heroism,” which caused Midoriya’s eyes to widen and his face to color in a warm blush.
“I’m--! I’m not--!”
Toshinori held a hand up, smiling. “Just talk with my manager when he calls. You can decide if you ‘are’ or ‘aren’t’ after you’ve heard from him. Fair enough?”
Midoriya nodded, his eyes still rather wide. “...Sure. If you really think I should.”
“You’d be doing me another favor,” Toshi admitted, and sure enough, the steel set into Midoriya’s bright green eyes and he nodded again, determination sneaking into his expression. Obviously this was a kid who liked to help people. Perhaps not a real superhero in training, but Toshi could see him so very clearly as Deku, fighting to do his very best and inspiring others along the way. Already he’d inspired Toshinori.
“I’ll do what I can, Yagi-san,” Midoriya said firmly, squaring his shoulders. (It was a bit too cute, what with how the shirt draped over him like a shawl.)
He shook his head. “Toshinori’s fine.” After all, if the kid did end up working on the film, he’d be working with Toshinori’s cousin as well, and being on a movie set for the first time would be confusing enough without having two Yagis to deal with.
“Toshinori-san,” Midoriya said, correcting himself. “Thank you, for this opportunity. I’m really honored you would even consider me for the part.”
“It’s the least I could do, after you saved my life. Especially since you wouldn’t let me buy you new shoes.”
“Oh.” Midoriya laughed, a surprised kind of short bark of amusement, and he shook his head softly. “It’s just that those are my favorite pair, and they were limited edition. I haven’t been able to find any more. But, um, I appreciate it, really!”
The frank honesty had Toshi laughing too. He didn’t spend a lot of time around kids, but that sort of truthfulness was refreshing. He could see the charm in working with people who hadn’t learned to hide their motives, and it made him all the more excited to get started on the film.
There was still a little while before Midoriya’s clothes would be dry enough for him to walk back home in them, so they sat and drank coffee and chatted about clothes and the film industry and whatever else crossed their minds. It felt a lot like the first day on any film set, before you really knew your co-stars, but Toshinori could already tell they were going to get along well, and Midoriya seemed comfortable as well. When it came time for him to leave, he gave a short bow of thanks.
“If the interview goes well, then… I guess I’ll talk to you then?” He grinned hopefully, but bashful, nervous. “And if it doesn’t, then…” His face fell slowly, gently, into almost a considering frown. “Then it was nice to meet you,” he said with a definitive nod.
Toshinori crossed his arms over his chest, not a defensive gesture but one meant to strike confidence. “I’m sure we’ll meet again,” he said. He really had a good feeling about Midoriya, despite his relative lack of experience. But even if Nighteye didn’t take to his suggestion, and even if the casting directors chose someone else, he didn’t think he’d be satisfied leaving it at that. At very least, he greatly intended to find Midoriya a new pair of those shoes. In repayment for his life, it seemed a very small price. And if it let him see the boy again, all the better.