meet your hero

my main contribution for the Pretty Reckless Zine! Kirishima likes them aged like fine manly whiskey~

I had never seen a romantic interpretation of Kiri meeting Crimson Riot before and I thought that was a shame, and the fact that Crimson is likely long dead in canon was not gonna stop me! here he's just retired, probably well into his 60's while Kiri's in his 20's.

I also wrote the little ficlet to give more context to the art which I'll just paste here too for easier reading:

You first were made aware of Red Riot the day he made his debut. An old friend sent you an article about the boy wearing an homage to your name. It was as flattering as it was surprising — youths these days have All Might to look up to, and an ever-changing collection of fresh new heroes to grab inspiration from, and you don’t hold it against them, you’ve been retired for years now, fading from collective awareness — but this boy chose your name, was clearly a fan even, expressing your values with his own voice, his own words.

It went without saying that you kept tabs on him over the years, as Eijirou becomes a man more than worthy of the name he took from you. He’s strong and kind, one of the most honest and manly heroes out there. You’re impressed and honored, especially as he continuously mentions you in interviews as his source of inspiration.

As far as you’re concerned, he’ll outshine you in no time, bring the Riot name to new heights and you can only be grateful and in awe.

As Red Riot becomes more known, the media try to get a comment out of you, or they want you to meet him for a show, but the requests never come from Red Riot himself (you suspect out of respect for your privacy, this boy may be rowdy and loud as the Riot name demands, but he’s also polite and considerate) so you refuse every time; if you’re gonna meet him, it’ll be on your terms.

It’s easy (you may be retired but you still have contacts in the field and a few tricks up your sleeve) to arrange a “chance” meeting as Eijirou exits the hero agency he works at, late one night. He’s taller in person than you imagined, maybe taller than you (hard to tell with both your hair), broad with a warm aura. For a moment you feel like a boy meeting his favorite hero, it is both nostalgic and exciting, so you call out his hero name. He immediately recognizes you and flushes and flails, tripping over his words like any one of your young fans, so many years ago.

He accepts your invitation to talk over a drink before you even get all the words out. You think you see him hurriedly cancelling whatever plans he had tonight via text before pocketing his phone. It gives you a chuckle and makes you feel important and relevant again.

His eyes, bright and earnest, never leave you as your conversation moves from heroism and ideals to personal life and workout routine, hanging to your every word. You learn more about Eijirou during these few hours in the low light of a bar than in the last eight years following his heroic exploits through public channels. He has many friends he’s eager to praise over himself, his hair isn’t naturally red like yours, and his taste in music is as old school as his taste in heroes.

When you pay for both of your drinks he’ll insist on doing something for you in return. With a cute flush on his cheeks that you suspect isn’t exclusively from the alcohol, Eijirou will say, with a confidence in his voice that reveals how easily he saw through you and a fire in his eyes that tells of a desire you did not expect to be mutual, his place isn’t far,

We don’t have to part ways.