I walked back to my apartment, the cool night air a welcome respite after hours in the stuffy workshop. Stars peppered the clear sky, and the distant sounds of nighttime traffic provided a gentle backdrop to my thoughts.
My phone buzzed. A text from Camie: Survived mad science? Or did she turn you into a cyborg?
I smiled, typing back: Still human. For now. She's actually brilliant. My suit's going to be amazing.
Three dots appeared, then: Cool. Coming over tonight?
I hesitated. It was already late, and tomorrow would be busy with classes and training. But the thought of seeing Camie, of falling asleep with her warm body curled against mine...
Be there in twenty, I replied.
When I reached our building, she was waiting in the lobby, hair piled in a messy bun, wearing an oversized t-shirt that barely reached mid-thigh. Her eyes lit up when she saw me.
"Thought you might bail," she said as I approached.
"And miss this?" I gestured to her outfit. "Never."
She laughed, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the elevator. "Come on. I ordered food, but it's probably cold by now."
"Cold food is still food."
In her apartment, we ate reheated takeout on her couch, Camie's legs draped over my lap as she recounted her day. I watched her animated gestures, the way her eyes crinkled when she laughed, and felt something tight in my chest loosen.
"You're staring," she said, poking me with her chopsticks.
"You're worth staring at."
She rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her smile. "Smooth talker. Now tell me about your day with Crazy Pink."
I told her about Hatsume's designs, her forgotten meals, the wobbling stool incident. Camie listened, occasionally interrupting with questions or comments, her fingers absently tracing patterns on my arm.
"So she sat on your lap?" she asked, eyebrow raised. "And this was purely professional?"
"It was purely Hatsume," I replied. "She doesn't think about things the way normal people do. Her brain is all inventions and efficiency."
"Mmm." Camie set aside her empty container. "And you're spending all week with her?"
"Just evenings. Need to make sure my suit is ready for internships."
She nodded, then climbed fully into my lap, straddling me. "Well, your evenings belong to Hatsume this week." Her hands slid up my chest, coming to rest on my shoulders. "But your nights belong to me."
I pulled her closer, our foreheads touching. "I can live with that arrangement."
***
Tuesday's combat training featured a new twist: two-on-two battles in an urban setting. All Might paired us seemingly at random, though I suspected some method to his selections.
"Young Midoriya and Young Aoyama versus Young Tokoyami and Young Bakugo!" All Might announced.
Bakugo's eyes locked onto mine, a predatory grin spreading across his face. "Finally."
Aoyama sidled up beside me, nervously adjusting his sparkly cape. "We are doomed, non?"
"Not necessarily," I replied, studying our opponents. "We just need a strategy."
Our battlefield was a mock city block with various buildings, alleyways, and obstacles. The objective: capture our opponents using special tape or incapacitate them. A toned down version of our first battle trial.
"What's your plan?" Aoyama asked as we waited for the starting signal.
"Bakugo will come straight for me," I said, scanning the terrain. "Tokoyami's Dark Shadow is powerful but has a weakness—bright light."
Aoyama's eyes widened. "My navel laser!"
"Exactly. You handle Tokoyami. Keep your distance and use your laser to weaken Dark Shadow. I'll deal with Bakugo."
"But Bakugo is..."
"Angry, explosive, and determined to beat me." I nodded. "That makes him predictable."
The starting horn blared, and we moved immediately. Aoyama took position on a rooftop, his laser ready, while I navigated through the streets, listening for Bakugo's distinctive explosions.
I didn't have to wait long.
"IZUKU!" His voice echoed between buildings, followed by a massive explosion that shook the ground. He appeared at the end of the street, palms smoking, eyes wild with battle-lust.
"Subtle as always, Bakugo," I called, sliding into a fighting stance.
He charged, propelling himself forward with explosions from his palms. I waited, timing his approach, then stepped aside at the last second, letting him blast past me.
"Too slow," I taunted.
He pivoted mid-air, explosions redirecting his momentum.
Behind him, flashes of light and the shriek of Aoyama's laser told me he'd engaged Tokoyami. Good. Now I could focus entirely on Bakugo.
We circled each other, Bakugo's hands crackling with small explosions, my body coiled and ready. He struck first, as expected, a direct frontal assault meant to overwhelm.
I slid under his attack, Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist guiding my movements, fluid and precise. My counterattack caught him in the ribs, sending him stumbling sideways.
"Lucky hit," he snarled, recovering quickly.
"If you say so."
He attacked again, more cautiously this time, using smaller explosions to maneuver around me. I tracked his movements, blocking and redirecting his strikes, looking for an opening.
There—his right side, exposed for just a fraction of a second.
I struck, landing a solid blow to his ribcage. He grunted but caught my arm, using my momentum to throw me against a wall. My back hit concrete, knocking the wind from my lungs.
Bakugo pressed his advantage, closing in for a finishing blow. Time to use my trump card.
I focused, drawing on One For All. Green lightning crackled along my arm as I channeled two percent of the power. It wasn't much, but it was enough.
As Bakugo's explosion-powered fist came toward me, I countered with my lightning-enhanced arm. The collision sent shockwaves through the street, cracking the concrete beneath our feet.
Bakugo's eyes widened. "What the fuck was that?"
I didn't answer, pressing my advantage instead. With One For All flowing through me, I moved faster, struck harder. Bakugo found himself on the defensive, forced to retreat as I advanced.
"You've been holding out on me," he growled, blocking a strike that would have ended the match.
"Just a little something I've been working on."
His eyes narrowed. "Don't you dare look down on me!"
He unleashed his most powerful attack yet, a concentrated explosion aimed directly at my chest. I crossed my arms, channeling One For All through them as a shield. The blast hit like a truck, pushing me back several meters, but I remained standing.
Bakugo stared, genuine shock on his face. "How the hell are you still standing?"
I smiled, the green lightning now crackling across my entire body. "Training."
Before he could respond, I rushed forward, too fast for him to track. My palm struck his solar plexus—not enough to seriously hurt him, but enough to knock the air from his lungs. As he gasped, I swept his legs from under him, pinning him to the ground.
"Yield," I said, holding the capture tape ready.
He glared up at me, rage and something else—respect?—in his red eyes. "Fuck you."
"I'll take that as a surrender." I wrapped the tape around his wrist, officially capturing him.
The match ended shortly after, when Aoyama successfully captured a weakened Tokoyami with an unexpected display of acrobatics and precise laser work.
"VICTORY GOES TO TEAM MIDORIYA AND AOYAMA!" All Might's voice boomed over the loudspeaker.
Aoyama strutted over, cape fluttering dramatically. "We were magnifique, non?"
"You did great," I agreed, helping Bakugo to his feet.
He snatched his hand away. "This isn't over, Midoriya."
"It never is with you."
He stomped off, but not before I caught the smallest hint of a smile on his face.
***
Wednesday brought Iida's return to class. He looked tired, shadows under his eyes speaking of sleepless nights at his brother's bedside, but his posture remained rigid, his voice as loud as ever.
"I thank you all for your kind messages during my absence!" he declared, bowing at a perfect ninety-degree angle. "My brother's condition has stabilized, and I am ready to resume my studies with renewed vigor!"
During lunch, our expanded group—now including Momo, Hitomi, Camie, Kirishima, and Tokoyami—made room for Iida at our table.
"How is Ingenium really doing?" I asked quietly, when the others were distracted by Camie's retelling of Kaminari's latest "whey" face incident.
Iida's smile faltered. "The doctors say he... he may never walk again." His voice dropped to a whisper. "The Hero Killer severed his spinal cord."
I placed my hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Iida."
"My brother remains positive," he continued, straightening his glasses. "He says this is merely a new challenge to overcome. His spirit is truly that of a hero."
"Like brother, like brother," I said.
Iida looked surprised, then genuinely smiled. "Thank you, Midoriya."
After classes, we gathered for training—Bakugo, Kirishima, Tokoyami, Sero, Manga, and now Iida and Aoyama, the latter having invited himself after our successful team-up.
"We should focus on combination moves," Kirishima suggested, punching his hardened fists together. "Real men know how to work together!"
"I don't need anyone's help," Bakugo grumbled.
"Says the guy who lost yesterday," Sero teased, earning a death glare.
"AMAZING TEAM ATTACKS!" Manga's speech bubble read, his excitement literally written on his face.
We paired off, practicing combinations that played to our strengths. I worked with Iida, his speed complementing my technique, then with Tokoyami, using light manipulation to control Dark Shadow's power.
Even Bakugo participated, grudgingly allowing Kirishima to act as his living shield while he unleashed explosions from behind.
"Not bad, shitty hair," he admitted after we successfully completed a mock rescue operation.
Coming from Bakugo, this was practically a love letter.
***
Evenings belonged to Hatsume, as promised. Each day after training, I'd bring food to the support workshop—proper meals, not just protein bars—and watch her work her magic on my hero costume.
True to form, she'd abandoned her stool entirely, preferring to work from my lap, which she declared "the optimal workspace configuration." I didn't mind. Her weight was comfortable, and her boundless enthusiasm for her "babies" was contagious.
"The fabric's tensile strength is amazing," she explained Thursday evening, showing me a sample of my costume's material. "It can absorb impact forces up to—"
She stopped mid-sentence, her crosshair eyes widening. "I forgot to calibrate the compression settings!" She jumped up, rushing to a machine in the corner.
I watched her work, admiring the way she moved with purpose, her hands steady and sure despite her chaotic energy. She'd tied her pink dreadlocks back with a bandana, exposing the nape of her neck, where a light sheen of sweat glistened under the workshop lights.
"Eat," I reminded her, holding up a container of curry I'd brought.
She glanced over, looking ready to protest, then sniffed the air. "That smells good."
"It tastes even better. Come on, take a break."
She sighed dramatically but returned, reclaiming her spot on my lap. I fed her a spoonful of curry, which she accepted with a satisfied hum.
"You're good at this," she said between bites.
"Feeding you?"
"Taking care of people." She took another bite, chewing thoughtfully. "Most people get annoyed with me. Say I'm too much."
"You are a lot," I admitted, "but in the best way."
She turned slightly, studying my face. "You're weird, Midoriya."
"Says the girl who makes exploding boots for fun."
She laughed, a sound I'd grown to enjoy over our evenings together. "Fair point."
Friday brought the culmination of Hatsume's work. I arrived at lunch to find her bouncing with excitement, practically vibrating as she dragged me into the workshop.
"It's done!" she exclaimed, pulling a sheet off a mannequin.
My hero costume stood revealed—a perfect blend of traditional aesthetic and cutting-edge technology. The gray wraparound tunic over a black compression shirt, loose hakama-style pants, and forest green sash all looked like traditional martial arts garb, but I knew each piece contained Hatsume's innovations.
"Try it on!" she urged, already pushing me toward a changing area.
The costume fit perfectly, each piece moving with me like a second skin. The material breathed better than any workout gear I'd ever worn, and the reinforced sections felt sturdy without restricting movement.
I stepped out, performing a quick kata to test the range of motion. Flawless.
"This is incredible, Hatsume," I said, genuinely amazed. "You've outdone yourself."
Her face lit up, those crosshair eyes practically glowing with pride. "It's my best work yet! The compression layer monitors your vitals, the tunic absorbs and redistributes impact forces, and the boots have shock-absorbing soles that actually store kinetic energy for later use!"
She circled me, checking seams and adjusting small details. "The gloves have micro-fiber grips that enhance your holding power, and the arm guards can deflect blades without compromising mobility."
"It's perfect," I said, catching her hands as she fussed with my collar. "Thank you, Mei."
She froze at the use of her first name, her eyes widening slightly. "You're welcome... Izuku."
I pulled her into a hug, her body stiffening in surprise before slowly relaxing against me. "Seriously, thank you. This is beyond anything I could have imagined."
I expected her to pull away after a moment, but she remained pressed against me, her arms tightening around my waist. Her face buried against my chest, and I felt her breathe deeply.
"You smell nice," she murmured, the words muffled against my costume.
"Mei..."
She looked up, her expression uncharacteristically vulnerable. "No one's ever taken care of me before. Or listened to my ideas without calling them crazy. Or made sure I ate."
"That's what friends do," I said softly.
"Is that what we are? Friends?"
I nodded, suddenly aware of how close we were standing, her body warm against mine. "Yeah."
She studied my face, those crosshair eyes more focused than I'd ever seen them. "Good. Friends is good." She didn't move away. "You're coming back, right? Even though the costume is finished?"
"Of course. Someone has to make sure you eat."
She smiled, finally stepping back. "Good. I have more babies to make for you. Upgrades! Improvements! The possibilities are endless!"
And just like that, she was back to her usual self, already scribbling notes about potential modifications, her mind racing ahead to the next invention.
I changed back into my school uniform, carefully folding the hero costume into the specialized case Hatsume had prepared. As I prepared to leave, she called out, "Boys' night with Engine Legs tonight, right?"
I blinked, surprised she'd remembered. "Yeah. Iida needs cheering up."
She nodded sagely. "Social bonding rituals are important for psychological well-being. Have fun!"
I laughed. "I'll try. See you after my internship?"
"Bring food!" she called as I headed out the door.