The morning sun filtered through the enormous glass dome of the Gamma Training Field, projecting dancing patterns onto the turquoise surface of the water. Today, the complex labyrinth of pipes and metal platforms that normally served for rescue simulations was simply the backdrop for a day off. Principal Nezu, with his usual foresight, had granted Class 1-A exclusive use of the training pool. The official reason listed in the memo was an "aquatic recovery training session," a bureaucratic way of saying they urgently needed a break from the pressure. A day to stop being soldiers-in-training and go back to being, simply, teenagers.
The air vibrated with the smell of chlorine and the sound of laughter and splashing. It was a welcome chaos.
"Bet you can't beat me to the other side without using your Quirk, Sero!" Eijiro Kirishima shouted, his sharp-toothed grin flashing under the artificial sun. His red hair, wet and plastered to his forehead, made him look younger.
"You wish, Kirishima! My freestyle is legendary!" Hanta Sero shot back, already getting a running start at the edge. He dove into the water with a splash that sent a wave directly at Denki Kaminari, who was crouched next to a small portable speaker.
"Hey, watch the gear!" Denki complained, covering the speaker with his towel as if it were a priceless treasure. "I was just about to put on the song of the summer!"
Kyoka Jiro, sitting on the edge with her feet dangling in the water, rolled her eyes with an expression of amused resignation.
"The only 'song of the summer' you know is that commercial jingle for an energy drink, Denki. Spare us the suffering."
"It's catchy! And it's got a great beat!" he protested, fiddling with his phone's connector.
"Anything with more than two notes in a row has a 'great beat' to you," she retorted without missing a beat, drawing a muffled laugh from Mina Ashido, who was floating by on a flamingo-shaped inflatable.
"Jiro, so mean!" Mina said, though her smile gave her away. "Let Denki play his trashy music for us!"
"It's not trashy!"
At the other end of the pool, the competition was of a much more intense nature. Katsuki Bakugo stood waist-deep in the water, his arms crossed and a look of contained fury on his face. Across from him, Shoto Todoroki floated on his back, impassive, a single visible eye watching the vaulted ceiling. They hadn't exchanged a single word, but the tension between them was palpable.
Kirishima, having won his race against Sero, swam over to them.
"Come on, Bakugo! Don't just stand there! Race us!"
"Shut up, Spiky Hair!" Bakugo snapped. "I'm not wasting my time on extras like you!" His gaze, however, remained fixed on Todoroki.
"What about you, Todoroki? A friendly race?" Kirishima asked, ever the peacemaker.
Shoto blinked slowly, then righted himself in the water. He looked at Bakugo, then at Kirishima.
"No, thanks. I'm conserving my energy."
"Huh?!" Bakugo barked, taking the phrase as a direct challenge. "Are you saying you'd need all your energy to beat me, you Half-and-Half Bastard?"
Shoto just shrugged, a minimal gesture that enraged Bakugo even more.
"I'm just relaxing."
"Coward!"
Meanwhile, Tenya Iida, in his self-appointed role as safety supervisor, patrolled the edge of the pool with a whistle around his neck that, fortunately, he had yet to use.
"Everyone, remember: no running on wet surfaces! And wait at least thirty minutes after eating before resuming vigorous physical activity!"
"Iida, we had some chips like two hours ago," Mashirao Ojiro said, smiling as he walked past. "I think we're good."
"One can never be too cautious, Ojiro-kun!" Iida replied, chopping the air with a hand gesture.
In a secluded corner, far from the epicenter of the noise, Minoru Mineta watched the entire scene from the safety of his duck-shaped floatie. His eyes, however, ignored the races and arguments. They were locked on a small group that had gathered on the deeper side of the pool. It was, to him, the most beautiful and painful sight in the universe. A paradise from which he was denied entry.
Izuku Midoriya sat on the edge, his feet submerged, talking quietly. Beside him, Ochako Uraraka was laughing her head off at something Toru Hagakure—whose presence was only betrayed by an adorable, frilly bikini that seemed to float in midair—was whispering to her. And just behind them, Momo Yaoyorozu was emerging from the water with an elegance that made Mineta's heart stop. Her one-piece swimsuit, a deep bordeaux color, clung to her figure. Water cascaded down her skin as she pulled her black hair up into a high ponytail, and every drop that trickled down her shoulders glistened in the light.
It's not fair, Mineta whimpered inwardly, hugging his plastic duck's head with genuine despair. It's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fair. What kind of secret Quirk does Midoriya have? "Involuntary Goddess Attraction"? Why him? I've studied! I've perfected the art of stealth! I've memorized the optimal viewing angles from every damn seat in the classroom! I should be the one surrounded by such magnificence! I appreciate art! He's probably just thinking about training!
He watched as Toru, still laughing, splashed a little water at Izuku. The Izuku from a few months ago would have turned beet red and panicked. But this Izuku, the current one, just smiled and splashed her back with his hand. Ochako immediately joined the water war, and for a moment, the three of them looked like the cover of a summer magazine, the perfect picture of youth and happiness.
I'm going to die alone, Mineta concluded, a single, tragic tear rolling down his cheek and mixing with the chlorinated pool water. My life is a Greek tragedy without the comfort of poetry.
While most of the class gave in to the chaos, Izuku, despite the laughter and games, couldn't completely switch off. His smile didn't quite reach his eyes. His gaze often drifted to the reflection in the water, the ripples distorting his own face until it was unrecognizable. All Might's warning was a constant weight on his mind. A mole. Someone we trust. Someone who's been watching us this whole time. Who? How was it possible? When would the villains attack again? Every laugh around him felt fragile, like glass on the verge of shattering.
"Are you okay, Deku-kun? You seem a little distant," Ochako's voice pulled him from his thoughts. She had stopped splashing and was looking at him with genuine concern.
"Oh, yeah, Uraraka-san. I'm fine, just… thinking about the summer training camp," he lied, offering a smile he hoped looked convincing.
"Oh! I'm so excited for it, too!" she said, falling for the excuse. "It'll be great to train all together in the forest!"
"Yeah, it'll be… great," he repeated, his voice losing a bit of its strength at the end.
It was then that a softer, closer voice cut through his spiral of anxiety.
"You're still dwelling on it, aren't you?"
It was Momo. She had sat down on the edge beside him, so close their shoulders were almost touching. The scent of her skin, a mix of pool chlorine and something subtly floral, was strangely comforting.
Izuku turned to look at her. She wasn't watching him with Ochako's bubbly concern, but with a calm, understanding gaze.
"Am I that obvious?" he asked, forcing another smile.
"To me, you are," she replied, her tone holding no trace of judgment, only quiet observation. "You carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, Izuku. I can see it in the way your muscles are tense, even when you're laughing. It's like you're ready to leap into action at any second."
He let out a sigh, and this time he didn't try to hide the exhaustion he felt. The sound seemed heavy with a fatigue that went far beyond the physical.
"Someone has to."
"But you don't have to do it alone," she replied softly.
Before he could process her words, he felt a touch on his back. Momo's fingers, cool from the water, rested on his shoulders. The touch was light, almost hesitant at first, but then her hands began to move with surprising confidence and skill. She gave him a massage, her thumbs seeking the knots of tension in his neck and traps with a precision that took his breath away. The relief was instant and profound.
"Momo… you don't have to…" he started to say, feeling a little exposed.
"Relax," she ordered quietly, her warm breath brushing against his ear. The sound sent a shiver through him that had nothing to do with the water. "Think of it as optimizing team morale. A stressed leader is an ineffective leader. Consider this part of my duty as class vice representative."
The formal logic of her excuse, so typical of her, made him laugh. It was a genuine laugh this time, free from the tension that had been gripping him. He let his head fall forward, surrendering completely to her expert hands. The massage was incredible, working out knots he didn't even know he had, the product of weeks of constant training and worry. But it was more than that. It was the gesture, the closeness, the quiet intimacy of her care that was truly disarming him.
As her hands worked, she leaned in a little closer, lowering her voice so only he could hear her over the shouts of Kaminari, who had finally managed to get his song playing.
"Toga described her Quirk's evolution as… total," Momo said suddenly. Her voice was a whisper, almost a murmur. "A complete rewriting of its parameters. She said the feeling was overwhelming, that it almost consumed her."
Izuku tensed under her hands, but she didn't stop her massage.
"I need to understand all the variables of that protocol, Izuku," she continued. "For… for science, of course. To have a precedent. So we can replicate it if we ever need it in an emergency situation."
He stopped breathing for a second, then turned slowly to face her. The movement brought him face-to-face with her, just inches away. The "for science" sounded like a flimsy excuse even for her. There was an intense curiosity in her grey eyes, a longing that wasn't purely academic. It was personal. He saw the desire to know, to understand, to experience.
"It was… intense," he admitted, his own voice coming out hoarse. It was the only word he could find to describe the sensation of his power flowing through her, changing her, strengthening her.
"I know," she whispered. Her gaze dropped to his lips for a fraction of a second before returning to his eyes. "Show me."
It wasn't a request, nor was it a command. It was an invitation.
Without another word, they slid into the water together. Their movements were slow, deliberate, as if they were in their own world. The warm water enveloped them, creating a bubble of silence and privacy in the middle of the noisy pool. They swam slowly toward a deeper, quieter area, where the laughs and shouts of their classmates were just a distant echo.
Underwater, the world became a silent, blue blur. The sounds were muffled, replaced by the soft rush of their own movements and the beat of his heart in his ears. Izuku took her by the waist, gently pulling her toward him. She didn't resist in the slightest. In one fluid motion, she wrapped her legs around his waist, their bodies fitting together with a naturalness that left them both breathless for an instant. He looked at her through the distortion of the water, searching her eyes for any sign of doubt or hesitation. He found none. There was only trust. And a desire that mirrored his own.
His hand, which rested on the small of her back, began a slow, deliberate ascent. He felt the soft, stretchy fabric of her swimsuit, the firmness of the muscles beneath. His fingers brushed the lower edge of her suit, right at the curve where her back met her hips. He felt her shudder against him, a small spasm of pleasure that sent an electric current straight through him.
In that moment, he understood. This was no longer about science or emergency protocols.
With a boldness that surprised even himself, his hand didn't stop at her chest as it had last time. It slid lower, across her abdomen, following the line of her body. Underwater, out of sight of anyone who might be watching, his fingers found the front edge of her swimsuit bottoms. With an almost torturous slowness, he slipped his fingertips beneath the elastic fabric.
Momo muffled a gasp against his shoulder, the sound turning into a burst of bubbles that tickled his skin. The sensation of his fingers, the warmth of the water, and the overwhelming anticipation were driving her crazy. She felt him find her center, his fingers brushing against her most intimate folds with a gentle, reverent curiosity. Her face was burning—she was sure she was blushing from head to toe—but she didn't pull away. On the contrary, she clung to him tighter, burying her face in the crook of his neck.
He wasn't embarrassed. A strange, powerful calm had taken hold of him. The fear, the doubt, the constant worry about the traitor… it had all dissolved in the warmth of her trust and the intensity of the moment. He was here, with her. And it felt incredibly right.
"Am I interrupting a private lesson, coach?"
Toru's voice, a fun, bubbly whisper right beside them, made them jump. A ripple in the water was the only sign of her arrival. She was there, invisible, her presence revealed only by the way the water moved around her and the faint outline of her bikini.
Izuku turned, Momo still clinging to him like a life raft, his hand still exactly where it was. He didn't snatch it away in a panic. There was no clumsy attempt to separate. He simply looked up at his friend's invisible presence and smiled.
"We were just… reviewing aquatic safety protocols," he said, his tone filled with an amused calm that surprised even Momo.
"Right, you were," Toru's voice replied, laced with a laugh that was noticeable even distorted by the water. "Some very, very thorough protocols, from the looks of it. Just make sure you don't drown in all that… protocol."
While the intimate drama unfolded in the quiet of the water, a tension of a very different kind was brewing in Yu Takeyama's penthouse.
****
The apartment was flooded with sunlight. Inko Midoriya was pouring a cup of tea for Nemuri Kayama, who was settled comfortably on one of the designer sofas.
"Seriously, Yu-chan, this place is amazing," Nemuri said, taking a sip. "It almost makes me want to reconsider my own tiny, cluttered apartment."
"It has its perks," Yu admitted, stretching out on an armchair with the grace of a cat. She wore simple sweatpants and a tank top that revealed the impressive musculature of her arms. "Though sometimes it feels too big and quiet."
"Well, it's not so quiet anymore," Inko pointed out with a kind smile, sitting down next to Nemuri.
Just as a sense of domestic calm settled over the room, the doorbell rang. The chime was sharp and polite, but strangely jarring in the relaxed morning atmosphere.
Inko frowned. "Are we expecting someone, Yu-chan?"
"Not that I know of," Yu replied, rising from the sofa with an agility that betrayed her morning laziness. She walked to the door, her expression a mix of curiosity and annoyance.
She opened the door. On the threshold, silhouetted against the bright light of the hallway, was a figure radiating a wild, contained energy. Rumi Usagiyama, the number five hero, Mirko, stood there. She wore workout clothes—a pair of cycling shorts and a sports top—that accentuated every muscle of her incredibly powerful physique. Her long white rabbit ears twitched slightly, catching every sound in the apartment. Her red eyes scanned the interior with a predatory intensity.
"Well, well," Mirko said, her voice a low, amused purr as her gaze swept over the luxurious apartment. "So this is where the hero jet-set hides out. Heard a rumor this was U.A.'s new safe house. Came to check it out for myself."
"Rumi," Yu said, her tone a mix of surprise and an old, tense familiarity. "What the hell are you doing here? You ever heard of calling before you show up?"
"Calling is for people with time to waste," Mirko retorted, striding past Yu and into the apartment uninvited. Her red eyes landed on Nemuri, who was watching her from the sofa with a raised eyebrow, and then on Inko, whose clearly civilian presence momentarily threw her off. "And who are these, your book club?"
"They're my guests," Yu said, closing the door with more force than necessary. Her voice took on a protective edge. "And my home isn't a public information center for gossips. Talk. What are you here for?"
Mirko shrugged, completely ignoring Yu's hostility, and dropped into an armchair with a lack of ceremony that made Inko flinch. She stretched, placing one ankle over the opposite knee.
"The Taniguchi case," she said bluntly, getting straight to the point. "The data I stole from his company's server. I passed it to a contact I have in the police force. A reliable guy, old school. The kind who can't be bought."
The air in the room turned ice-cold. The casual conversation from before evaporated.
"They found him dead in his apartment this morning," Mirko continued, her tone now devoid of all humor. Her face was a mask of seriousness. "The official story is he shot himself. A 'suicide.'" She made air quotes with her fingers.
Nemuri leaned forward, her face losing all trace of her Midnight persona. "You're kidding."
"I don't kid about things like this," Mirko said, her red eyes fixed on Yu. "Someone's cleaning up the tracks. Someone with a lot of power, with the resources to make a detective's death look like a suicide and close the case in a matter of hours. And the only loose end left… is your team of prodigies. The ones who were at the gala that night. The ones who might have also seen something or, even worse, the ones who know you and I are sniffing around."
The silence that followed was heavy and ominous. Inko brought a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide with fear.
"Are you saying… that Izuku and the others are in danger?" Nemuri asked, her voice barely a whisper.
"I'm saying they're a loose end," Mirko corrected harshly. "And people like the ones behind Taniguchi don't like loose ends. I came to warn you, Yu. Those kids of yours… they aren't just students who got lucky on a raid anymore. They're witnesses. And witnesses have a bad habit of disappearing."
Mirko shot to her feet, her visit as abrupt as her arrival. She had said what she came to say.
"I work alone, you know that," she said, heading for the door. "But I don't like seeing kids caught in the crossfire. Watch them. Or someone else will do it for you, and not in the way you'd like."
She left, leaving behind a silence charged with a new and terrible threat. The sun streaming through the windows suddenly seemed cold and lifeless.
Inko pressed a hand to her chest, her heart hammering painfully. Her son's face, smiling at the pool, flashed in her mind, and terror seized her. Yu stared out the window at the sprawling city below, her face a mask of contained fury, her knuckles white from how tightly she was clenching her fist.
The calm was over.
****
Back at the pool, oblivious to the gathering storm, Izuku didn't pull his hand away. The warmth of Momo's body, the softness of her skin under the water, and the racing pulse he could feel through his fingertips were a focus point in the storm of his own worries. He looked up and met the implied "grin" in Toru's posture, a cheerful ghost who had witnessed his most intimate secret. The shame that would have consumed and paralyzed him months ago simply wasn't there. In its place was a strange, powerful calm.
The world was a dangerous place, yes. There were traitors, villains, and threats lurking around every corner. But here, in this sanctuary of water and steam, surrounded by the trust and desire of the women who had become his world, he felt… whole. The mission to protect them and the pleasure of being with them were no longer divergent paths in his mind. They were one and the same. The same path. And he would walk it gladly.