A/N at the end

Rumi sat in a standard rolling office chair dressed in her hero outfit, her left foot tapping against the floor impatiently as the many office workers of the Hero Commission bustled about doing their various duties. She sat in a generic office building waiting area as generic looking people did their generic sounding routines.

God this was boring.

After the big battle with the Paranormal Liberation Front the pro-heroes (who had survived) were all informed by their agents that the Ministry of Defense was getting involved. Apparently the pyrrhic victory against Tomura Shigaraki and his followers somehow did not inspire a lot of confidence in the suits who had to deal with the nation's PR.

Rumi could give less of a fuck what a bunch of pencil-pushers thought. Honestly, whenever the suits tried to do the pro-heroes' job they always managed to screw it up. However it seemed that this was not one of the times where she could simply ignore the government goons and go back to actually helping people. After all, she was still getting used to her new bionic left arm.

Speaking of which, she really needed to find out why the fucking thing itched so much.

Rumi sighed grumpily and inspected her new chrome appendage as a way to stave off the boredom. Luckily science and medicine had come a long way, it was not like they were back in the day where the best prosthetic arm you could get barely moved. Now if someone lost an arm or a hand they could get it replaced with something almost as good as the real thing (if they had the money). Luckily, Rumi was never much of a big spender, so she had a decently sized chunk of cash saved up sitting in her bank account.

Rumi had been in rough shape after the big battle. Let's be honest, she had gotten in over her head, and as a result had gotten the beating of a lifetime.

But she had never given up. She was Miruko after all, the one woman wrecking crew and bringer of justice.

Once she had recovered from her injuries Rumi had immediately gone about ordering the best bionic arm money could buy. It had taken what felt like years for the thing to get made (Rumi was not the patient type), but eventually a team of specialists had connected the replacement limb and guaranteed it could keep up with her.

Covered in a layer of polished chrome, Rumi's bionic arm was made from some of the toughest materials available. Unlike most people who wanted the same level of dexterity as a human hand, Rumi simply wanted the thing to be able to take a beating. The trade off was that her hand was not as precise, but it's not like she was planning on learning to play the piano or anything like that.

Wiggling her metal fingers experimentally, Rumi was roused from her musings by the sound of someone politely clearing their throat. Looking up, Rumi saw the familiar face of her agent looking at her expectantly.

Rolling her eyes, Rumi grinned as she stood up and walked over to her agent.

Rumi's agent did not look like anything special, just a middle-aged woman in business attire and a permanent frown on her face. What made her special was the fact that she was one of the few people who could put up with Rumi's antics and attitude. At the start of her hero career Rumi must have made half a dozen prospective agents quit out of sheer exhaustion. However when Miss Sasaki had arrived she simply weathered the storm named Rumi Usagiyama and did her job without flaw.

A woman of few words, Miss Sasaki turned around and silently led Rumi through several bland hallways. Arriving at an office door exactly the same as the dozen they had already passed, Miss Sasaki opened it and gestured for Rumi to step inside.

Walking into the surprisingly spacious office, Rumi arched an eyebrow inquisitively as she inspected the scene before her.

The office was as generic and plain as the beige carpeting on the floor. A few metal bookshelves hung on walls along with an almost patronizing old motivational poster featuring a small kitten. Behind a tidy wooden desk sat an older man in office worker clothes. For a second Rumi wondered if the man and her agent were related, as they both looked like they had the personality of a boiled carrot. Behind the older man stood someone with short curly green hair in a cheap suit, their back turned to Rumi as they looked out the single window at the bustling city outside.

"Welcome Miss Miruko." The seated man said with a frog-like croak. "Please, take a seat. We have a few things to discuss with you." He then gestured to the two plastic chairs facing his desk.

Crossing her arms, Rumi smirked and stayed standing while her agent took a seat in one of the chairs.

Shrugging uncaringly, the office drone put on a pair of reading glasses and retrieved a file from somewhere behind his desk.

"As you may already know, the Ministry of Defense has decided to aid the Hero Commission and its members in the fight against those who would disrupt our peaceful society." The man croaked. "We have been informed that effective immediately all pro-heroes above the rank of one-hundred will be assigned a personal liaison who reports directly to the Ministry of Defense. These liaisons are to assist you in gathering information regarding threats to national security. Your cooperation is required, and failure to do so will result in penalties that may affect your hero ranking."

Rumi barely stopped herself from growling in annoyance. Of course the suits are sticking their noses where they don't belong!

"National security my ass…" Rumi muttered under her breath.

"Please treat your liaison as if they were your partner." The older man said, talking like he was reciting a speech from memory. "The safety of our citizens and nation is in your hands."

The person with curly green hair had not moved the entire time, seemingly engrossed with looking out the window at the sunny scenery.

The croaking older man nodded satisfactorily then gestured to the person standing behind him.

"Miss Miruko, meet your new Ministry of Defense liaison. Izuku Midoriya."

The person named Midoriya turned around and faced Rumi with a polite smile on his face.

For a second, Rumi considered that this new "partner" might not be so bad to work with.

Lean with a hint of muscle, well-defined features, a smattering of freckles on his face, and curly green hair that made Rumi want to run her hands through it. If she was being honest Rumi might admit that having a good looking liaison might at least make the interactions slightly more bearable.

Walking around the desk, Rumi's new liaison extended his hand as he spoke.

"Nice to meet you Miruko, it's a pleasure to work with you."

While he had been waiting in the drab office for Miruko to arrive, Izuku had plenty of time to ponder what exactly he was getting signed up for. His boss had purposefully picked Izuku to be Miruko's liaison. Not out of spite or favoritism, but because in his opinion Izuku might be the only one in his department who would be able to handle Miruko's trademark attitude.

For context, this was because Izuku was quirkless.

Now if you told any passing stranger that Miruko was going to have a quirkless partner they would have laughed or expressed pity for the poor bastard. Miruko had always been very outspoken about her opinion, that the only thing she respected was strength.

But Izuku had always been one to shatter expectations.

Growing up quirkless was not an enviable life. Ostracized from almost every social clique and being bullied relentlessly would make any normal person hate their lack of a quirk. At first young Izuku did indeed hate himself and everyone around him, I mean who wouldn't in his situation?

But one day that self-loathing changed.

They say there comes a time in every person's life when he has to choose the course his life will take.

For Izuku, it was when his mother died.

The woman of unending kindness and iron-clad will took her last breath telling Izuku that she never regretted giving birth to him. That he was everything she hoped he would be and she was proud of how strong he was.

The funeral had been small and short. A handful of people paying their respects and offering condolences to the young man who stood next to his mother's grave.

Standing alone, Izuku made a promise to himself and to his mother. He would prove everyone wrong and show that being quirkless was not a curse. That he could be smarter and stronger than anyone else through sheer determination and force of will.

And that is exactly what he did.

First he conquered school, graduating at the top of his class and receiving multiple scholarship offers to prestigious universities.

Instead, the young man joined the army as soon as he turned eighteen.

Working his way up through the ranks, Izuku garnered many accolades from his commanding officers and peers.

At this point nobody even knew Izuku was quirkless. It was assumed that he did not use his quirk because it would only hold him back.

Not satisfied with simply becoming a commanding officer, Izuku then became one of the youngest people ever to be accepted into Japan's elite counter-terrorism unit.

Leaving the army with many awards and honors under his belt, Izuku was immediately recruited by the Ministry of Defense. It was there amongst hardened veterans and genius analysts that Izuku started his career.

Establishing himself as a man of honor and integrity, Izuku quickly earned the respect and admiration of his colleagues. The entire time nobody thought for a second that such a man might be quirkless.

Now he was twenty-six years old, and he was faced with what might be his greatest challenge yet. Miruko.

For all of his drive and determination, Izuku had never quite mastered the art of interpersonal relationships. After all, his every waking moment had been filled working his way to the next big goal.

Now before you assume anything, it is important to note that Izuku was not some kind of antisocial recluse. He could hold a conversation and tell jokes like anyone else, it was just simply the fact that few people could keep up with him and his need for conquering the next big obstacle.

Say what you will about him, but one of Izuku's biggest weaknesses was the fact that he could be very dense when it came to romance or friendship. Many people had even tried seducing him, but nobody had ever come close to sealing the deal.

So now as he waited for the croaky man to finish talking, Izuku stared blankly out the window racking his brain for ways to befriend the spitfire that was Miruko.

Hearing the old man say his name, Izuku put a polite smile on his face and turned around.

Izuku had seen pictures of Miruko before. After all, one of his secret guilty pleasures was to consume information about every listed pro-hero. But meeting her in person left him with a strange feeling in his chest.

Brushing it off as nervous energy (and maybe that extra cup of coffee), Izuku forced himself to not stare at Miruko's metal arm and extended his hand to shake.

"Nice to meet you Miruko." He said. "It's a pleasure to work with you."

A/N

- Im doing things a little different than I normally do. If you think something needs improvement or you enjoy the story let me know.

- As of writing this the PLF big battle is ongoing, so I modified the end result.

- gonna try to keep this one romance/drama oriented but I might thrown in some action to spice things up.