The rhythmic mechanical tinkering echoed through the support workshop as Izuku scrolled through his phone, resting against one of the less explosion-prone workbenches. His day before the scheduled USJ trip had been uneventful until a text from Mei Hatsume summoned him to witness her "babies" in progress.
"They're almost ready!" Mei's voice carried from somewhere behind a stack of mechanical components. "Just a few final calibrations and your little ducklings will fly the nest!"
Izuku glanced up, smirking at her choice of words. "Babies, ducklings... you really commit to the parental metaphors, don't you?"
Mei's pink head popped up from behind the workbench like a periscope. Her goggles reflected the harsh fluorescent lights, giving her the appearance of some bizarre deep-sea creature. "Creation is parenthood, Test Subject! These are not just equipment—they're extensions of my genius!"
"So when they break, does that mean you failed as a mother?"
"FAILURES ARE SIMPLY EDUCATIONAL MILESTONES!" Mei shouted, disappearing again behind the bench. Something sparked loudly, followed by her delighted cackle.
Izuku tucked his phone away, walking toward the sound. In the two weeks since he'd first met Mei, he'd grown accustomed to her manic energy. The Support Department had become something of a sanctuary—a place where explosions were normal and the rules of social interaction didn't apply.
"So what miracle of science have you conjured for me today?"
Mei popped up again, this time clutching what looked like his redesigned gauntlets. The new versions appeared sleeker, more angular, with a dark gunmetal finish that caught the light in ways that screamed both "dangerous" and "expensive."
"These babies have triple the kinetic absorption capacity! The impact-distributing polymers can handle direct blasts from Explosion Boy without transferring the shock to your fragile meat joints!"
"My joints aren't fragile."
"All meat is fragile compared to my beautiful metal children!" She stroked the gauntlet with inappropriate tenderness. "But these are only part of the equation! Follow me to Testing Bay C—we need proper isolation for the full calibration sequence!"
"The last time you said 'calibration sequence,' something exploded and Power Loader banned you from using nitrogen compounds."
"A MINOR SETBACK!" Mei waved dismissively, already marching toward the back of the workshop. "Besides, these babies won't explode!"
Izuku sighed, following her through the maze of workbenches and half-finished inventions. Several other Support students looked up as they passed, their expressions ranging from terror to sympathy. One mouthed "good luck" as Izuku walked by.
Not concerning at all.
Testing Bay C was a small, heavily soundproofed room with reinforced walls and what appeared to be blast shields. Various measuring devices lined the perimeter, and a workbench in the center held not just the gauntlets but also his redesigned escrima rods.
"Welcome to my lair!" Mei announced, sweeping her arm dramatically. "The only place in U.A. where I can properly measure output without Maijima-sensei worrying about 'structural integrity' and 'student safety' and 'please stop setting things on fire, Hatsume.'"
"Unreasonable demands, clearly."
"EXACTLY!" Mei clapped her hands together. "Now, shirt off."
Izuku blinked. "Excuse me?"
"Shirt. Off." Mei pointed at his U.A. uniform. "The calibration requires direct contact with your musculature. The fabric interferes with my readings."
"Absolutely not."
"But SCIENCE!"
"Science can work around clothing. It's very adaptable that way."
Mei huffed, her crosshair pupils dilating with frustration. "The calibration will be 37.6% less accurate! Your babies deserve better!"
"My babies will be fine."
"What if Explosion Boy hits you again? What if the feedback loop fails because of improper calibration? What if—"
"Mei."
"YES?"
"The shirt stays on."
Mei pouted, but quickly shifted gears—her mind always moving too fast to dwell on disappointments. "Fine! Sub-optimal conditions noted for the record! Now, at least roll up your sleeves so I can attach the gauntlets properly."
Izuku complied, unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling his sleeves to the elbow. Mei descended on him immediately, her fingers working with surprising precision as she fitted the first gauntlet to his right arm.
"The primary issue with the previous model was the connection point at the wrist," she explained, tightening something that pinched briefly. "Too rigid! When Explosion Boy detonated directly against your forearm, the force transmitted through the joint instead of dispersing."
The metal felt cool against his skin, lighter than it looked but with a reassuring solidity. Mei continued her adjustments, completely focused on the task. For all her chaotic energy, when she worked directly on her inventions, she became almost hypnotically precise.
"Flex your fingers—slowly!"
Izuku obeyed, feeling the gauntlet respond to his movement. It felt like an extension of his arm rather than something attached to it.
"Good! Now make a fist. Hold it. Release." Mei's face was inches from his hand, her eyes tracking every minute adjustment. "The micro-hydraulics are responding perfectly!"
She repeated the process with his left arm, fitting the second gauntlet with equal care. When both were secured, she stepped back, admiring her work like a painter before a masterpiece.
"Beautiful! Now for the real test—impact resistance!"
Before Izuku could react, Mei grabbed what looked like a small hammer from the workbench.
"Hold still!"
"Wait—"
She swung the hammer directly at his gauntleted forearm. Instead of pain, Izuku felt only a mild pressure as the gauntlet seemingly absorbed the impact, a faint blue glow emanating from the recessed lines along its surface.
"HA! PERFECT!" Mei's face lit up with manic glee. "Better than projected!"
Izuku flexed his arm, genuinely impressed. "It barely felt like anything."
"Now imagine what happens when Explosion Boy tries his little firecracker trick! The force will disperse across the entire surface area instead of concentrating at the point of impact!" She bounced on her toes, clearly pleased with herself. "But we're not done! The escrima rods need calibration too!"
She grabbed the rods from the workbench—they were heavier-looking than his previous pair, with recessed grooves along the length and what appeared to be small power cells embedded near the grips.
"These babies have three settings! Stun, which delivers approximately 50,000 volts on contact—"
"That's enough to kill someone!"
"Only if you hold it against them for several seconds! And only sometimes!" Mei waved dismissively. "Setting two is Bind, which extends high-tension carbon filament to restrain targets. And setting three is Impact, which concentrates force at the point of contact to break through armor and barriers!"
Izuku took the rods, feeling their weight. Despite their seemingly solid construction, they balanced perfectly in his hands.
"Now the calibration for these is a bit more... involved." Mei's grin widened. "I need to measure your full range of motion with them. How you swing, how you pivot, your natural strike patterns."
"That sounds suspiciously like you want me to perform katas in this tiny room."
"Exactly! But with sensors!" She began attaching small devices to his shoulders, upper arms, and wrists. "These will track your movement patterns so the rods can anticipate and complement your fighting style!"
For the next twenty minutes, Izuku went through basic strike patterns with the rods as Mei circled him, occasionally calling out adjustments or taking readings from her tablet. Despite his initial skepticism, he found himself enjoying the process. The rods felt like natural extensions of his arms, responding to his movements with minimal effort.
"Your form is excellent," Mei noted, her eyes on the tablet. "Very little wasted motion. Optimal energy transfer from your core to the impact point."
"Ten years of training with a sadistic old man will do that."
"Efficient! I like efficient!" She tapped something on the screen. "Now I need to check the response time during rapid transitions. When you switch from offense to defense in a single motion—"
The workshop door burst open with a metallic bang.
"Midoriya? Are you in here? Hagakure said she saw you come in and—"
Jiro stood frozen in the doorway, her earphone jacks rigid with shock.
Behind her, Toru's floating uniform appeared, gloves immediately flying up to where her mouth would be.
Izuku, his sleeves rolled up, covered in small sensor devices, wielding electric batons.
Mei standing uncomfortably close to him, one hand on his bicep, the other holding a tablet displaying his body's measurements.
Both of them sweating lightly in the enclosed space, breathing harder than normal from the extended calibration session.
Time seemed to stop as four teenagers stared at each other in perfect, horrified silence.
"What." Jiro's voice was dangerously soft. "The HELL is going on here?"
"Oh!" Mei's face lit up, completely missing the tension. "We're calibrating his rods!"
Toru made a strangled choking sound.
"The sensitivity is impressive," Mei continued, oblivious to the catastrophic misunderstanding unfolding. "He can feel every little vibration through the shaft!"
Jiro's face went from ghostly white to burning crimson in approximately two seconds. Her jacks weren't twitching—they were pointing directly at Mei like twin spears ready to impale.
"You're... calibrating... his rods," Jiro repeated, each word dripping with murderous intent.
Izuku quickly set the escrima sticks down. "It's not what it—"
"Why are you all sweaty?" Toru's voice was small and hurt.
"We've been working for almost an hour," Izuku explained hastily. "Testing equipment."
"Equipment," Jiro echoed flatly.
"Yes! Beautiful babies!" Mei bounced forward, grabbing one of the escrima rods. "Would you like to hold it? The grip response is customized to Midoriya's pressure patterns, but I could adjust it for your smaller hands!"
Jiro took a step back, her face still burning. "I am NOT touching his... equipment."
"Why not? It's very impressive! Look at the power output readings!" Mei thrust the tablet toward Jiro, who recoiled like it might bite her.
"I think we should go," Toru said, her uniform retreating from the doorway. "They're clearly... busy."
"Spotlight, wait—" Izuku started forward, but Toru was already gone, her uniform disappearing down the hall.
Jiro lingered a moment longer, her expression unreadable behind her furious blush.
"So this is what you do after school," she said, her voice carefully neutral. "Get all hot and bothered with the support girl."
"That is NOT what's happening!"
"Tell that to someone who didn't just see you playing with your rods," Jiro snapped, turning on her heel and storming after Toru.
The workshop door slammed shut, leaving Izuku and Mei alone in the testing bay.
"What was that about?" Mei asked, genuinely confused. "Did I say something wrong?"
Izuku ran a hand through his hair, sighing deeply. "Mei, when you say things like 'calibrating his rods' and talk about 'shafts' and 'vibrations,' people might... misinterpret."
"Misinterpret how?"
"Sexually, Mei. They think we're doing something sexual."
Mei's crosshair pupils contracted in surprise. "But we're making support equipment! That's not sexual at all!"
"I know that, and you know that, but they clearly don't know that."
"Should I go explain? I could show them my schematics!"
"NO." Izuku grabbed her shoulder before she could rush after them. "You've done enough damage with words today."
"Words are imprecise! That's why I prefer mechanical interfaces!" Mei huffed, turning back to her tablet. "Human communication is so inefficient."
Izuku began removing the sensors from his arms, his mind racing. Jiro was angry—that much was obvious—but Toru's hurt expression worried him more. Or, well, her hurt posture, since he couldn't actually see her expression.
"I need to go after them."
"But we haven't finished the calibration sequence! There are still seventeen test parameters to—"
"The equipment will have to be sub-optimal," Izuku said firmly, unbuckling the gauntlets. "This is a different kind of emergency."
"Relationship emergency?" Mei tilted her head curiously. "Is this about mating rituals?"
"Please stop talking."
"I could build something to help! Perhaps a pheromone dispersal system or—"
"Mei!"
"Fine! Go chase your invisible girlfriend and angry jack-in-the-box! Abandon science!" She clutched one of the escrima rods to her chest dramatically. "I'll just be here, alone, with our unfinished babies!"
Izuku rolled down his sleeves, buttoned his cuffs, and straightened his tie. "The babies will survive. Can you pack everything up and have it ready by tomorrow? We'll finish the calibration after I fix this mess."
"Recalibration takes time! The parameters will drift! The optimization algorithms will—"
"Mei."
"...yes, I'll have them ready."
Izuku paused at the door, looking back at the pink-haired inventor who genuinely didn't understand what she'd done wrong.
"And maybe... don't use the phrase 'calibrating his rods' ever again. Especially around Jiro."
"Why not? It's technically accurate!"
"Because accuracy isn't always the point."
Mei's confused expression followed him out the door as Izuku rushed into the hallway, hoping he could catch up to Toru and Jiro before this misunderstanding spiraled completely out of control.
The hallway was empty.
Of course it was.
He pulled out his phone and tried calling Toru. Straight to voicemail.
Same with Jiro.
"Great," he muttered to himself.