A few days passed in a blur of recovery days, late mornings, and the constant rustle of agency letters being opened, reread, and debated. By the time Class 1-A finally returned to their classroom, the explosive hype of the Sports Festival had dulled—but it hadn't disappeared.
Not where Izuku was concerned.
Whispers still followed him down the halls like an echo that refused to fade. Some students stared openly.
Others tried to act casual and failed miserably. Even teachers—usually masters of composure—let their gazes linger on him a second too long, curiosity flickering behind tired eyes.
Izuku leaned back in his chair, hands folded behind his head, staring up at the ceiling tiles as the familiar classroom noise settled in around him.
'Man… that break was nice,' he thought lazily. 'No villains, training. Just peace. I gotta think of what I'm gonna make thay Katsuki do. Genuinely haven't figured that out.'
His thoughts drifted, unprompted.
'…I kept thinking about Mei, though. I should've gotten her number. She was fun. Loud. Kinda insane, but in a good way. I don't usually enjoy conversations that much.'
Almost on cue—
"BOO!"
Mei Hatsume's face suddenly filled his vision, goggles gleaming inches from his own.
Izuku blinked once.
Then twice.
No flinch. No jump. No instinctive reaction.
Just a flat, mildly curious stare.
Mei froze, then squinted at him. "…Wow. I really didn't think I'd ever meet someone I couldn't jumpscare."
She leaned one elbow on his desk, peering at him like a scientist examining a failed experiment. "Guess you were really deep in thought, huh?"
Izuku tilted his head slightly, then let out a small chuckle. "Yeah… happens sometimes."
Truth was, it rarely happened. His senses were usually sharp enough to catch anyone approaching. That alone made her appearance noteworthy.
Mei seemed pleased by that, grinning as she dropped her bag onto the chair beside him with a clatter of metal and rattling components. "Hi, by the way. Still feels kinda wild that I'm just… casually talking to you now."
She waved a hand vaguely. "You know. Festival champ. Crowd favorite. Human bulldozer."
Izuku smirked. "And you're the girl who tried to turn the cavalry battle into a live tech demo."
"Hey!" she said proudly. "That was valuable field testing."
He laughed, the sound easy and genuine. "Honestly? I liked it. You should show me your inventions sometime. I'm really interested in what you build."
Mei blinked.
Her goggles slid down her nose just a little as her eyes widened, and for once, she looked genuinely caught off guard. A faint pink crept up her cheeks.
"…Wow," she said slowly. "Straight to meeting my babies, huh?"
She leaned in closer, lowering her voice dramatically. "Take me on a date first. It's only polite."
Izuku burst out laughing. "Fair enough. Then let's do that. But first—" he gestured casually, "—give me your number."
Without missing a beat, Mei reached into her jacket and pulled out a sleek, glossy business card. Tiny gear patterns lined the edges, and a stylized logo sat proudly at the top.
Izuku took it, eyes scanning it once before chuckling. "You carry business cards."
"Obviously," she replied. "Future tech mogul. Gotta stay prepared."
He slid the card into his pocket. "You and I are gonna be pretty good friends, I think."
Mei grinned wide, sharp and excited. "Oh yeah. I can tell."
Across the classroom, several heads turned. The girls were furious. An unspoken thought echoed between them.
'…Another girl?'
....
Soon enough, the break bell rang, its sharp chime echoing through U.A.'s halls. Class 1-A scattered almost instantly—chairs scraping, conversations bursting to life. Some headed straight for the cafeteria, others lingered in the corridors or claimed shady corners outside to relax.
Izuku stayed behind.
He sat at his desk near the window, elbow resting on the sill, watching students pass below in the courtyard. The sunlight filtered in softly, warming the classroom. For once, he just wanted a moment of quiet—no stares, no whispers, no "Hey, you're that guy from the Sports Festival!"
Peace lasted exactly twelve seconds.
"There you are!"
Izuku turned just in time to see Mei Hatsume poke her head through the classroom door, goggles perched on her forehead, pink eyes lighting up the moment she spotted him.
Before he could even open his mouth, she marched over, grabbed his wrist, and yanked him out of his chair.
"Hey—!" he started, only to be dragged forward.
"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," she said excitedly. "You're coming with me."
Izuku barely had time to grab his bag as she pulled him into the hallway at a brisk pace. A few of his classmates stared after them, blinking in confusion.
"Was that… Hatsume?" Kaminari muttered.
"Why is Midoriya always getting kidnapped by girls?" Mina whispered, half-impressed, half-annoyed.
Down the hall, Izuku adjusted his stride, keeping up easily despite her enthusiasm. "You know," he said calmly, "most people ask before abducting someone."
Mei waved a hand dismissively. "Details."
She didn't slow down until they reached the massive reinforced doors of the Development Studio. With a swift motion, she slapped her palm on the scanner and shoved the door open.
The moment Izuku stepped inside, his senses were assaulted.
The sharp tang of oil and metal filled the air. Machines hummed, pistons hissed, sparks jumped from a welding station in the corner. Tables were cluttered with parts—wires, lenses, half-assembled gauntlets, boots with thrusters sticking out at odd angles. Blueprints were pinned to walls, scattered across the floor, and taped to the ceiling like some mad inventor's shrine.
Mei spread her arms wide.
"Welcome to my world!"
Izuku blinked slowly, eyes tracking everything at once. "…This," he said honestly, "is your idea of a date?"
She adjusted her goggles and flashed a grin. "Hey, I told you—no baby access before a date. Consider this your VIP backstage pass."
Despite himself, Izuku chuckled as he stepped further inside. He could sense it immediately—beneath the chaos was order. Everything had been placed intentionally. Every tool was within reach. Every mess had meaning.
"…Wow," he murmured.
Mei preened at that reaction. "Not bad, right?"
She suddenly darted to a nearby bench, rummaging through a pile of components before holding up a compact, palm-sized device.
"Okay! First demo!" she announced. "You've got ridiculous raw power, but precision? That's where things get messy. So imagine channeling that strength through something like this—" she mimed attaching it to his forearm "—a focus regulator. Clean output. No city-level collateral damage."
Izuku looked at her, genuinely surprised. "You… made something with me in mind?"
She answered instantly. "Duh. You're the ultimate stress test. If my babies can survive you, they can survive anyone. That's innovation."
He laughed softly, scratching the back of his neck. "You're the first person who's looked at me and thought 'engineering challenge' instead of 'walking headline.'"
Mei paused—just for a fraction of a second—then shoved a pair of reinforced gloves into his hands.
"Don't get sentimental. Put those on."
Izuku raised a brow but slid them over his fists. They were surprisingly light, snug without restricting movement.
"What do they do?" he asked.
She pointed toward a steel mannequin bolted into the floor. "Punch that."
Izuku hesitated. "…Are you sure?"
"Positive."
He drew back and threw a controlled jab.
The gloves flared with soft blue light on impact. Instead of the mannequin folding like paper, the force dispersed outward in a contained ripple. The dummy rattled violently—but stayed intact.
Izuku stared at his fist, then at the mannequin. "…It stabilized the impact."
Mei's grin was feral with pride. "Exactly! Force regulation. Think of them as training wheels for gods. Now you won't accidentally vaporize your sparring partners."
Izuku slowly pulled the gloves off, clearly impressed. "You might actually save me from breaking bones someday."
A faint blush crept across Mei's cheeks beneath her goggles, though she kept her usual confident smirk.
"Guess that means you owe me another date."
Izuku laughed, setting the gloves gently on the table. "Deal."
TO BE CONTINUED