The next morning, Izuku woke with a groan.
He blinked sluggishly at the ceiling, mind foggy as he rubbed the corners of his eyes, wiping away the stubborn grit that had gathered there overnight. The room felt quiet—too quiet.
Something felt off. He glanced down and reached for his phone.
Tapped the screen. Nothing.
He frowned and tapped it again. Still dead.
"…Damn it," he muttered.
'Forgot to charge it,' he realized with a sigh.
'What was I even doing before I fell asleep?'
He paused, thinking hard. Nothing came to mind.
Shrugging it off, he rolled out of bed and headed for the bathroom. A quick shower later, the fog in his head finally cleared, warm water washing away the last traces of sleep. He got dressed, tugging his uniform into place, then headed downstairs.
Breakfast with his mom was calm and familiar—simple food, light conversation. Before she could offer him a ride, Izuku grabbed his bag.
"I'll walk today," he said casually.
The walk wasn't bad.
The morning air was cool, streets just starting to fill with students and commuters. Twenty minutes later, U.A. came into view—and just like yesterday, someone familiar stood outside the gates.
Momo Yaoyorozu.
She stood perfectly straight, hands folded in front of her—but her expression gave her away. Her posture was tense, eyes flicking toward her phone far more often than necessary.
She looked… rattled.
Izuku approached, stopping just in front of her.
"Yo," he greeted lightly.
She turned to him immediately.
"No good morning for you, sir," Momo said, arms crossing. "You literally left me on read last night."
Izuku blinked. "…I did?"
Then it hit him.
"Oh—right. That's what I was doing," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry. I kinda dozed off while typing my reply."
She narrowed her eyes just slightly. "Then what about this morning? I sent you a good-morning message."
"Oh—uh," Izuku said honestly, lifting his phone. "Battery died. Completely. That one's on bad luck, not me."
He paused, then added quickly, "Seriously. Could've happened to anyone."
Momo studied him for a moment.
Then the tension eased.
Her shoulders relaxed, and a faint blush crept onto her cheeks as she let out a small breath. "I was just… annoyed," she admitted. "Nothing more."
"Yeah," Izuku said with a small smile. "I get that. I would've been too if I were you."
He tilted his head slightly. "So—what was the question again?"
"Oh!" Her expression brightened immediately. "It was about your suit."
"Right. Yeah, I was planning on getting that sorted out today," Izuku said. He hesitated—then smiled. "Wanna come with me?"
Momo nodded without hesitation.
"I'd like that."
Side by side, the two of them walked forward together, stepping through the doors and into the faculty office—conversation flowing a little easier now, the awkwardness left behind with the morning air.
Inside the faculty office, Izuku stood across from Aizawa's desk while Momo waited quietly nearby.
Aizawa barely looked up from the stack of papers he was grading.
"So," he said flatly, eyes half-lidded, "you're here about a new suit."
"Yeah," Izuku replied simply. "The old one didn't exactly survive."
Aizawa hummed, finally glancing at him—then at the faint burn marks still visible beneath his uniform. "You never got issued the proper request form."
Izuku blinked. "I didn't?"
"That's because…" Aizawa paused, then sighed. "You know why."
Izuku did know. He had no quirk. Aizawa reached into a drawer and slid a thin packet across the desk.
"Here it is. Fill it out. Bring it back tomorrow," he said.
"No promises," Izuku replied lightly.
"…Figures," Aizawa muttered.
"Thanks," Izuku said sincerely before turning and leaving with Momo.
They returned to class together, greeting a few classmates as they entered. The room buzzed with low chatter, chairs scraping softly as students settled in. Izuku slid into his seat and leaned back, hands behind his head.
'This is gonna be a lame day,' he thought.
In class, he leaned back in his chair, half-listening as the lesson droned on. Then his pocket started vibrating. Once. Twice. Constantly. He frowned and pulled out his phone.
…Big mistake.
Fifty unread messages from Momo. Sixty-nine from Mina. One hundred and ninety from Tsuyu—for reasons beyond human comprehension.
And then there was Ochaco. Hundreds of messages. Links. Videos. Screenshots.
"HOW TO TRIPLE YOUR INCOME IN ONE WEEK!"
"THIS SIDE HUSTLE WILL CHANGE YOUR LIFE!"
"INVEST NOW BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE!"
Each one followed by the exact same question:
Is this real?
Izuku stared at the screen, deadpan.
'…This is my life now,' he thought.
He locked the phone and slipped it back into his pocket, rubbing his temples as he leaned back again. After a moment, he tapped Mina's name.
Izuku: Arcade?
The reply came instantly.
Mina: YESSS 😈
Mina: Loser buys snacks
Izuku smirked. He was just about to pocket his phone when another message popped up.
Mina: [69, nice]
Izuku stared at the screen for a second.
Then sighed—smirk widening despite himself.
'Man… what is wrong with these girls?' he thought.
Already knowing the answer.
[During break]
The cafeteria buzzed with life.
Conversation blended into a constant hum—voices overlapping, chairs scraping, trays clattering as students moved through the lines. Bursts of laughter rang out from different corners, punctuated by the occasional shout or complaint about food portions.
Izuku sat at a corner table with Ochaco and Mina, his posture relaxed, elbows resting lightly on the tabletop. Sunlight streamed in through the tall windows nearby, catching dust motes in the air and casting soft highlights across the polished floor.
At first, no one paid them much mind.
Then people started to notice.
One student slowed as they passed, eyes flicking toward their table before quickly looking away. Another lingered a second too long while pretending to check their phone. A group at a nearby table subtly shifted their chairs to get a better angle.
It wasn't obvious—but it was happening.
More and more eyes lingered.
And most of them drifted back to Izuku.
He wasn't loud. Wasn't bragging. Wasn't posturing like some of the others. He was just… there. Talking when spoken to, listening attentively, smiling at the right moments. Calm. Comfortable.
And somehow, that made him stand out even more.
Ochaco noticed it first.
She took a sip of her drink, glancing sideways as someone else looked their way—then nudged Mina lightly under the table. Mina followed her gaze, eyebrows lifting with interest.
"So wait," Mina said suddenly, leaning forward with a grin between bites, clearly enjoying the attention, "you're telling me you've already memorized the entire school layout?"
Izuku nodded casually, unfazed. He lifted his drink and took a slow sip before answering.
"Yeah. It's not that hard once you've seen the map," he said. "I'm good at remembering details."
Mina stared at him for a second, then laughed. "That's not normal, you know."
Ochaco smiled, shaking her head slightly. "It explains how you're never lost."
Izuku shrugged, completely at ease. "Saves time."
"Good at remembering faces too?" a playful voice chimed from beside the table.
All three of them turned.
At first, there was nothing.
Then a U.A. blazer and skirt floated into view, fabric shifting slightly as if worn by an invisible mannequin. A pair of gloves rested confidently on unseen hips as the figure leaned closer.
"Toru?" Ochaco asked, already smiling.
TO BE CONTINUED