After the tour of her gloriously chaotic lab, Mei suddenly snapped her fingers as if remembering something important.
She ducked under a workbench, rummaged around, and popped back up holding a compact, neatly packed lunch bag that looked hilariously out of place among the metal scraps and exposed wiring.
"Don't tell anyone," she said in a mock whisper as she unzipped it, "but this is my guilty pleasure."
She laid everything out with surprising care—small bento boxes arranged neatly, chopsticks wrapped in cloth, even a drink tucked to the side.
"Crime documentaries and bento boxes," she continued proudly. "Perfect combo."
Izuku chuckled as he followed her to a relatively clear bench—relatively being generous, considering there were still bolts, lenses, and a dismantled gauntlet pushed to the edges.
He sat beside her, resting his elbows on his knees as he watched her set everything up.
"You're full of contradictions," he said lightly. "Mad scientist lab… but organized lunch."
"Hey," Mei shot back, popping open a container, "a genius needs fuel."
They ate quietly at first, the hum of machinery and distant campus noise filling the background.
Then Mei tapped a button on a small tablet mounted to a flexible arm above the bench. The familiar ominous intro music of a crime documentary began to play.
Her eyes lit up instantly.
"Oh—oh! This part's really good," she whispered excitedly, leaning closer to the screen. "Watch how they reconstruct the suspect's route. It's all about pattern recognition."
She pointed at the screen with her chopsticks, getting dangerously close to poking it.
Izuku leaned in too, more out of curiosity than anything else. "Huh… that's actually clever."
"Right?!" Mei beamed, thrilled. "Everyone thinks it's intuition, but it's really just data and iteration."
As the documentary progressed, they settled into a comfortable rhythm—eating, watching, commenting. Mei nudged him with her elbow whenever something shocking happened, her reactions unfiltered and animated.
Izuku found himself laughing more than he expected, shaking his head at her excitement but never once pulling away.
For a while, nothing else existed. Just the soft glow of a screen, the clink of chopsticks, and Mei's enthusiastic commentary filling the space between them.
Time slipped by unnoticed.
Then—
Brrriiing!
The sharp ring of the school bell echoed through the lab, bouncing off metal walls and snapping them both back to reality.
Izuku exhaled softly and stood, stretching his shoulders. "Well… that's break time over."
Mei groaned dramatically, slumping forward. "Tragic."
He brushed a bit of dust from his uniform and glanced down at her. "Hey—if you want, after school we could go out. Like… actually go out. Just hang."
She looked up at him, surprise flashing across her face before melting into a bright, genuine smile.
"I'd love that," she said without hesitation. "I'll see you then, champ."
Izuku grinned. "Cool. Also—" he paused at the door, glancing back over his shoulder, "—maybe go easy on the spices next time. I don't get heartburn, but I feel like I should right now."
Mei burst out laughing, the sound echoing warmly through the lab. "You're even cooler than I thought."
He waved once and slipped out.
A second later—
CRASH!
Mei froze mid-laugh as a box toppled from an overloaded shelf, spilling gears, wires, and metal parts across the floor.
"Ahh—!" she yelped, jumping back before sighing heavily. "…Right. That shelf."
"Fuck," she muttered, already kneeling to gather the scattered pieces.
As she worked, her cheeks warmed slightly, a small, amused smile tugging at her lips.
The mess didn't bother her. It never had. And somehow, knowing she'd get to share more of this world with him later made it feel even more like home.
Later that day, the sliding classroom door opened with a familiar creak, drawing everyone's attention forward.
Midnight and Aizawa stepped in together, each carrying a thick stack of forms. The contrast between them was almost comedic—Midnight's confident, energetic stride and teasing smile clashed heavily with Aizawa's exhausted shuffle, his scarf dragging slightly as if it weighed a ton.
They stopped at the front of the room.
"Alright," Aizawa began in his usual flat, sleep-deprived monotone, flipping through the papers. "Today's exercise is one of the more important ones. You'll be deciding your hero aliases."
That was all it took.
The classroom exploded.
"FINALLY!" Mina squealed, practically bouncing out of her seat.
"I've been waiting for this!" Kirishima added, slamming his desk with excitement.
"Time to show the world the greatness of me!" Kaminari declared, striking a dramatic pose that absolutely nobody asked for.
Even students who were usually reserved leaned forward with interest, whispering ideas or scribbling names onto notebooks. Only Aizawa looked completely unaffected, pulling his capture scarf tighter around his shoulders like this entire activity personally offended him.
"To think the day has finally come," Mineta said, puffing out his chest smugly. "I already have a whole list of names prepared. Including Pimp, Angel Shot, and—"
"Absolutely not," Mina cut in instantly, not even looking at him.
"Yeah, no one's taking that seriously," Sero added, snickering.
Mineta slumped back into his seat, muttering under his breath.
Izuku leaned back in his chair, resting his head lightly against it, a quiet smile playing on his lips as he let the noise wash over him.
'Hero name,..... I've thought about it. But not for longer than two minutes.'
His thoughts drifted inward.
'Maybe One Punch Man…' he mused. 'Nah too long'
Midnight clapped her hands sharply, the sound snapping through the chatter like a whip crack.
"Alright, my lovelies, settle down!" she said with a playful grin. "Each of you will come up here and present your chosen hero name. Remember—your name should be impactful, memorable, and say something about who you are as a hero!"
One by one, students marched up with pride.
Mina twirled dramatically and announced, "Alien Queen!" striking a pose so confident it drew cheers.
Kaminari followed, shouting "Chargebolt!" while throwing finger guns at the class, earning laughter and a facepalm from Jirou.
Kirishima stepped up next, fist pressed to his chest. "Red Riot!" he declared with unwavering conviction, the room responding with approving nods.
Izuku watched quietly, chin resting on his hand, taking mental notes. He wasn't nervous—not even a little. Just thoughtful.
"Midoriya," Midnight said after a glance at her list, eyes gleaming with interest, "you'll be up soon. And considering your Sports Festival performance… the entire country's waiting to hear what kind of name you've got."
The class turned toward him instantly.
"Ooooh," Mina hummed. "What's it gonna be?"
"Bet it's something broken," Kaminari whispered.
"Overpowered and dramatic," Jirou added with a smirk.
From the corner, Katsuki scowled. "Whatever it is, mine'll be better."
Izuku just smiled faintly, leaning back.
'Guess I shouldn't disappoint.'
More names followed.
Ochaco stepped up next, nervous but determined. "My hero name will be… Uravity," she said, clasping her hands together. "It's about gravity—but also keeping things light and hopeful."
The room erupted into applause. Mina squealed, Kaminari called it cute, and even Aizawa gave a subtle nod of approval.
Tokoyami followed, raising a hand with dramatic flair. "I am… Tsukuyomi. The moon god of darkness."
Jirou shivered slightly. "Okay, that one's actually cool."
Finally, Midnight checked her list once more and smiled slowly.
"And next up," she said, voice teasing, "our rising star of the Sports Festival… Izuku Midoriya. Step right up."
The anticipation was thick enough to taste.
Whispers rippled through the room.
"No way he goes simple."
"It's gotta be insane."
Izuku stood calmly, sliding his hands into his pockets as he walked to the front. He stopped beside Midnight, emerald eyes scanning the room—his classmates, his rivals, his friends.
Midnight leaned closer, smiling. "So, Izuku… what will the world know you by?"
He paused.
Just long enough to let the silence stretch.
Then he smiled.
"My hero name will be…"
TO BE CONTINUED