[63] Intuition

I step out onto the bustling streets of Ginza with Miruko, the bright morning sun glinting off the sleek storefronts. Miruko's ears twitch, constantly scanning our surroundings.

"Alright, kid. Show me what you've got," she says, gesturing to the crowd.

I nod, understanding the unspoken challenge. As we walk, I wave to a group of schoolgirls who recognize me. They rush over, phones out.

"Viridian! Can we get a picture?"

"Of course," I say, flashing a smile. As I pose, I count the number of alleyways we've passed and note the position of nearby security cameras.

Click. Flash. "Thank you so much!"

I sign a notebook, all while tracking a suspicious-looking man across the street. He's fidgeting, eyes darting around. Pickpocket, maybe?

"Miruko-san," I murmur, "Three o'clock. Blue jacket."

She nods almost imperceptibly. "Good eye, kid."

We continue our patrol. I stop for more photos, update my Instagram story with a shot of the Ginza skyline. #HeroInternship #ViridianOnPatrol

A little boy tugs on my sleeve. "Viridian! You're so cool! Can you show me your quirk?"

I kneel down, channeling a tiny spark of One For All to my fingertip. Green lightning dances across my hand. The boy's eyes widen.

"Wow! I wanna be just like you when I grow up!"

I ruffle his hair. "Work hard and stay kind. That's the first step to being a hero."

As the boy runs back to his mother, I catch Miruko's approving nod. But I don't let it distract me. I've counted seventeen potential escape routes, noted four hero agencies, and identified at least three undercover cops mingling with the crowd.

We pass a construction site. I pause to take a selfie with the workers, using the moment to assess the site's security. Proper barriers? Check. Safety equipment? All present.

"Hey, Viridian!" a voice calls out. A group of teenagers wave from across the street. I wave back, noting how the crowd's movement changes with the crosswalk signals.

Miruko leads us down a side street. The atmosphere shifts, becomes a bit grittier. Fewer smiles, more suspicious glances.

"Pop quiz, kid," Miruko says suddenly. "What's different about this area?"

I don't hesitate. "Higher concentration of pachinko parlors and bars. More cameras, but they're older models."

She grins, sharp teeth glinting. "Not bad. Now, let's see how you handle this."

A commotion erupts from a nearby alley. Two men stumble out, shoving each other. One pulls back his fist.

I move without thinking, placing myself between them. "Gentlemen, is there a problem here?"

The larger man sneers. "Get lost, hero. This ain't your business."

I stand my ground, channeling a hint of One For All through my body. Not enough to be visible, just enough to radiate presence. "Actually, keeping the peace is exactly my business. Why don't we talk this out?"

The smaller man looks ready to bolt. I catch his eye, offering a reassuring nod. "No one's in trouble here. We just want to resolve this peacefully."

Miruko watches from a distance, arms crossed. I can feel her assessing my every move.

It takes a few minutes of careful words and subtle quirk intimidation, but eventually, the men separate. Crisis averted.

As we continue our patrol, Miruko claps me on the back. "Not bad, kid. You've got good instincts."

I allow myself a small smile. "Thanks. I learned from the best."

She snorts. "Flattery will get you nowhere. Now, let's see how you handle crowd control."

We round a corner to find a small group gathered around a street performer. The crowd's spilling into the road, causing traffic to swerve.

I approach the performer, a juggler with multiple arms sprouting from his torso. "Excuse me, sir. Your performance is amazing, but we need to keep the sidewalk clear. Mind if I help organize things?"

He nods, not breaking his rhythm. I turn to the crowd, projecting my voice. "Alright, everyone! Let's give our talented friend here some space. How about we form a semicircle on this side of the sidewalk?"

I guide people into position, snapping photos with fans between directions. Soon, we have an orderly audience that doesn't impede traffic.

Miruko gives me a thumbs up. I've passed another test.

As the day wears on, I feel the weight of constant vigilance. Every autograph, every selfie, every casual interaction is an opportunity to gather intel, to spot potential threats, to understand the pulse of the city.

By the time we return to the agency, my mind is a map of Ginza – its people, its rhythms, its secrets. I've signed countless autographs, taken dozens of photos, and prevented three minor incidents from escalating.

Miruko stretches, her ears twitching. "Not a bad first full day, kid. Hit the showers, then we'll debrief."

I'm toweling off my hair when my phone buzzes. Ai's name flashes on the screen. I answer, curious about what my publicist could want at this hour.

"Midoriya-san, I hope I'm not interrupting," Ai says, her voice crisp and professional as always.

"Not at all. What's up?"

"An opportunity has come up. Channel 4 wants you for their 'Rising Stars of Heroism' segment tonight at 9:30."

I pause, considering. "That's pretty short notice. What's the deal with this segment?"

Ai launches into an explanation. "It's a monthly feature. They spotlight heroes they believe are on the cusp of greatness. It's a chance to connect with a broader audience, especially older viewers who might not follow social media."

"Is that really necessary?" I ask, thinking of my growing follower count. "My social media presence is pretty solid."

"True, but this targets a different demographic. It's also watched by companies looking for brand deals and sponsorships. It's a different kind of exposure, Midoriya-san."

I nod, even though she can't see me. "Makes sense. Let me check with Miruko first. I'll call you back in a few."

I hang up and head to the common area where Miruko's sprawled on the couch, scrolling through her phone.

"Hey, Miruko-san," I say, catching her attention. "I just got a call about a TV interview tonight. It's for a segment on rising heroes. Would it be alright if I went?"

Miruko's ears perk up. She eyes me for a moment, then shrugs. "Sure, why not? Just don't embarrass me, kid."

I grin. "Wouldn't dream of it. Thanks, Miruko-san."

I call Ai back, giving her the green light. She runs through some quick prep, reminding me of key points to hit and things to avoid. By the time we hang up, it's nearly 6:30.

I check my watch as I approach the apartment door. 7:15 PM. Plenty of time before the interview. The smell of curry hits me as I knock.

Nejire opens the door, her blue hair slightly damp. "Izuku! Perfect timing. Momo's just finishing up dinner."

I step inside, slipping off my shoes. "Smells great in here."

Momo calls from the kitchen, "Hope you're hungry! I might have gone a bit overboard."

"Starving," I reply, making my way to the dining area. The table's set for three, a steaming pot of curry in the center.

We settle in, filling our plates. I take a bite and nod appreciatively. "This is delicious, Momo."

She beams. "Thanks! So, how was your day with Miruko?"

"Intense," I say, between bites. "Lots of patrolling, crowd control. Oh, and I've got some news. Channel 4 wants me for their 'Rising Stars of Heroism' segment tonight."

Nejire's eyes widen. "That's awesome! When is it?"

"8:30. I'll have to leave pretty soon, actually." I turn to Momo. "How about you? How was your day at Ryukyu's agency?"

Momo sets down her spoon, looking thoughtful. "It was... eye-opening. We spent most of the day going over the business side of running an agency. Budgets, PR, legal considerations. It's a lot more complex than I realized."

I nod, intrigued. "Any particular insights?"

"Well," Momo says, "did you know that hero agencies have to factor in property damage costs when budgeting for the year? Apparently, it's a significant expense, especially for agencies with more... destructive heroes."

Nejire chuckles. "I bet Bakugo's future agency will need a hefty budget for that."

We all laugh at that. I turn to Nejire. "And you? How was your patrol?"

Nejire grins. "Oh, you know, the usual. Stopped a purse-snatcher, helped an old lady cross the street. Nothing too exciting. But hey, it's my day today, right? I'll be waiting up for you after your interview."

I feel a warmth in my chest at her words. "I'll try not to keep you waiting too long."

We finish dinner, chatting about our experiences and the upcoming weeks of our internships. As I help clear the table, I glance at the clock. 8:00 PM.

"I should get going," I say, grabbing my jacket. "Don't want to be late for the interview."

Momo gives me a quick hug. "Good luck! You'll do great."

Nejire walks me to the door. "Knock 'em dead, hero, I'll be waiting."

"Thanks. I'll see you both later."

I slide into the sleek black car waiting outside the apartment building. The driver nods politely, pulling away from the curb as soon as I buckle up.

"Channel 4 studios, right?" he asks, catching my eye in the rearview mirror.

"That's right," I confirm, checking my watch. 8:20 PM. We should make it with time to spare.

The city lights blur past as we weave through traffic. I run through potential questions in my head, rehearsing answers. My phone buzzes - a text from Ai.

"Remember, confidence is key. You've got this."

I type back a quick thanks, then pocket my phone. No distractions now.

We pull up to the studio at 8:35 PM. A production assistant greets me at the door, ushering me inside.

"Midoriya-san, welcome! I'm Yuki. We're so glad you could make it on such short notice."

She leads me through a maze of corridors, chattering about lighting and makeup. We stop at a dressing room.

"Hana will get you camera-ready. The interviewer, Matsuda-san, will be in shortly to go over the segment."

Hana, the makeup artist, works quickly, adding a touch of powder here and there. I barely have time to wonder if it's really necessary before there's a knock at the door.

A woman in her mid-thirties enters, all business. "Midoriya-san, I'm Rin Matsuda. Let's talk about tonight's segment."

She pulls up a chair, tablet in hand. "We'll start with your background - your journey to U.A., your quirkless childhood. Then we'll move on to your performance at the Sports Festival. We'd love to hear about your internship with Miruko, of course."

I nod, mentally cataloging the topics.

"Any questions about your quirk, we'll keep vague," she continues. "We understand the need for some mystery there. We'll wrap up with your goals for the future. The whole segment should run about fifteen minutes."

"Sounds good," I say. "Anything in particular you want me to focus on?"

Matsuda taps her tablet. "Your rise from quirkless to top of your class is inspiring. We'd like to highlight that 'against all odds' narrative. And of course, your thoughts on what it means to be a hero in today's society."

A knock at the door interrupts us. "Five minutes to air," a voice calls.

Matsuda stands. "Ready?"

I take a deep breath, centering myself. "Ready."

The set is smaller than I expected, just two comfortable chairs and some potted plants. Bright lights beat down as I take my seat across from Matsuda.

A technician clips a microphone to my collar. "We're live in 30 seconds," someone calls out.

Matsuda gives me an encouraging smile. "Just relax and be yourself. You'll do great."

The countdown begins. Three... two... one... action.