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Chapter 102: New Beginnings
🕑 Added 2025-07-29 16:22:17 +0000 UTCIt was the last morning at Mt. Lady's agency. The sun poured through the panoramic windows of Yu Takeyama's office, illuminating the organized chaos of files and equipment that the team was helping to sort. The week of internships—a whirlwind of hamburgers, high society, and deathmatches in dark alleys—had come to an end.
Yu, flawless in an ivory-colored business suit that screamed power and good taste, handed each of them a tablet with their final evaluations. Her face, though perfectly made up, showed a genuine exhaustion that her concealer couldn't quite hide.
"Alright, my stars. The paperwork is signed, the city is still standing, and I've sold enough hamburgers to feed an army. I'd say that was a successful internship."
Ochako took the tablet with a radiant smile, giving a small bow.
"It was incredible, Yu-san! We learned so much."
Momo nodded, her natural elegance intact even after the chaos.
"Your tutelage has been invaluable. The practical experience in crisis management and public relations exceeded all my expectations."
"And the free massages were great," Toru added with a giggle, earning a wink from Yu.
"Don't thank me. You all did the work," Yu replied, dropping into her leather chair with a sigh that seemed to carry away the tension of the entire internship. She kicked off her heels with a gesture of pure relief and massaged her feet. "You just learned the most important lesson in professional heroism: it's almost all boredom and paperwork, and the rest is absolute terror. Consider this your advanced education."
Yu leaned back, stretching like a cat.
"God, I need a coffee. Or an energy drink sponsorship. The number of fake smiles I've used this week could light up a stadium. You know what a Top Hero's real superpower is? Facial muscle endurance."
Toru burst out laughing.
"But you looked amazing on the news, Yu-san! A total pro!"
"Honey, that wasn't professionalism, it was method acting. I deserve an Oscar for pretending to care about the mayor's new special sauce flavor."
As the girls left the office, filled with a new and strange maturity, Izuku stayed behind for a moment, his gaze lost on Tokyo's skyscraper horizon.
"Yu-san… can I ask you something?"
Yu arched an eyebrow, a tired, amused smile playing on her lips.
"Shoot, prodigy. But if you're asking for another retail therapy session, my credit card needs a break and probably psychological counseling."
Izuku ignored the joke, his tone turning serious.
"You're brilliant. Your tactical sense, how you handle the media, your leadership in a crisis... it's top-tier. Why do you let everyone, even the other heroes, see you as just 'the giant hero with a great ass'?"
The question, so direct, didn't disarm her. On the contrary, a sharp, playful smile full of charming cynicism spread across her face. She leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs on the desk with lazy elegance.
"Because it's the best camouflage in the business, Izuku," she said, her voice a playful purr. "While they're busy looking at my ass, they're not looking at my brain. They think I'm a spectacle, a pretty face with a flashy Quirk. And while they get comfortable, while they're underestimating me, I've already calculated every angle of the fight, every headline for the next day, and the cost of property damage. It's a psychological weapon. The most effective one I have."
Izuku stared at her, fascinated by the brutally honest logic.
"But… doesn't it frustrate you? That they don't see your real worth?"
"'Real worth' doesn't pay the bills for an agency this size, honey. Public perception does," her smile widened. "Besides, it seems your fan club of powerful women keeps growing. Nemuri called me last night." Her tone turned deliberately mischievous. "She told me some… very interesting things about your 'practical' training methods. Said I should try out your 'personalized tutoring'." Her gaze slid over him, appraising and amused. "Be careful, Izuku. With that power of yours, you're going to break a lot of hearts... and probably a few HR rules."
"My mom really enjoyed having you over. She said you should come back for katsudon soon," Izuku blurted out, changing the subject with the subtlety of a jackhammer.
The offer, so unexpected and genuine, caught her by surprise. The tension melted away, replaced by a warm, sincere smile.
"I'd love that, Izuku. And who knows," she added, her voice dropping to a flirty purr, "maybe next time I'll even let you use my thighs as a pillow for dessert."
The return to Classroom 1-A was a harsh dose of reality. After the calculated tension of the internships, the energy in the room was chaotic, loud, and overwhelmingly familiar.
"Whoa, Bakugo! What happened to you?" Kirishima yelled from his seat, pointing at his friend's hair.
Sero was laughing his head off beside him.
"Did Best Jeanist style your hair with a ruler and a spirit level? You look… stiff!"
Kaminari joined the teasing from his desk.
"Your hair looks like it's about to give a speech on the importance of fiber in your diet! All serious and parted to one side!"
"SHUT YOUR MOUTHS, YOU DAMN EXTRAS, OR I'LL STYLE YOUR FACES WITH AN EXPLOSION!" Bakugo roared, his perfectly parted hair fighting to return to its natural state of explosive chaos. He ran a hand through it, trying furiously to mess it up, but the strands fell back into place with an unnatural rigidity. "Dammit, I think he used cement instead of hairspray!"
Mina Ashido had gathered with Tsuyu and Jiro, swapping stories.
"I can't believe you guys faced real villains!" Mina exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "I'm so jealous! All Gunhead taught me was how to disarm people, like twenty different ways to do holds and takedowns. It was fun, but there were no explosions."
"My internship with Selkie was very instructive, ribbit," Tsuyu replied with her usual calm. "We learned a lot about maritime patrol and ran into some smugglers. It was… damp. And Selkie is surprisingly cute without his helmet."
Jiro shrugged, with her perpetually cool vibe.
"Death Arms doesn't talk much. We just walked. For hours. He had me plug my jacks into the pavement to 'feel the city's vibrations.' But I learned to listen to the city's rhythm, to find the discordant note in the noise. It's more exhausting than a rock concert."
All eyes turned to Izuku's team.
"So, how was it with Mt. Lady?" Mina asked.
Ochako smiled, but instead of answering, she made her pen levitate. The small object didn't just float; it drew a perfect figure eight in the air, spinning on its own axis with a hypnotic precision that silenced those nearby.
"It was… very productive," Ochako said, her voice filled with a new, quiet confidence. "Yu-san taught us a lot about the business side of heroism. And about smiling until your cheeks hurt."
Ochako's display of control didn't go unnoticed.
"Ochako-chan, that's amazing! It looks like a magic trick!" Mina exclaimed.
"Such a scintillant display of control! Almost as brilliant as I!" Aoyama commented from his seat.
Izuku muttered to himself, but loud enough for Momo and Toru to hear.
"Fine vector control to nullify air resistance and maintain a stable orbit… The application of microgravity is flawless…"
Momo nodded, giving Izuku a small, approving smile.
"Her progress is exponential. Your training method is undeniably effective."
From a corner, a choked sob drew everyone's attention.
"IT'S NOT FAIR!" Mineta whimpered, tears streaming down his cheeks. "I got stuck with the Sweaty Hero: Backdraft! There were no girls! Just hairy men in a gym that smelled of testosterone and desperation! I had to spend the week refilling their water bottles and wiping down their weights! Every drop of their sweat was like a tear for my broken dreams! I even had to rub liniment on his back!" His voice cracked, reaching a new level of pathetic. "His muscle knots were bigger than my head! And he asked me to massage them 'with heroic spirit'! MY LIFE IS A TRAGEDY!"
Kaminari patted him on the back.
"But hey, that hero saved my cousin from a fire. It must be cool to train with him!"
Mineta paused, blinking. For a moment, the horror on his face was replaced by a hint of pride, before the memory of the smell of armpits made him start sobbing again.
The attention finally shifted to the trio who had been at the epicenter of the national crisis. All eyes fell on Iida and Todoroki.
"And you guys," Kirishima said, his tone more serious now. "You were in the middle of that Nomu attack in Hosu, right? What was it like? The news was really confusing."
Todoroki answered with his usual coldness, his eyes fixed forward.
"They were a distraction. Endeavor handled the main threat. There's not much to tell."
The answer was the official story, cold and distant. It shut the door on more questions, but not on the concern. Izuku's eyes met Ochako's, Momo's, and Toru's. They all saw the same thing: Iida, beside them, was completely silent, his body rigid as a statue, his gaze lost on an invisible point on his desk.
It was Kaminari who, with an almost suicidal innocence, reignited the flame.
"But putting that aside, the Hero Killer is pretty cool, right? I mean, because of his conviction."
The temperature around their desks seemed to drop ten degrees.
Ochako's normally sweet voice turned sharp as ice.
"Kaminari-kun. Shut up. Right now."
"Hey, I was just saying that—!"
Momo intervened, her tone pure, cold, lethal logic, cutting him off.
"What you are saying is that the conviction of a serial killer is admirable. That is a logically deficient and emotionally insensitive conclusion. I suggest you reconsider your definition of 'cool' before you deeply offend our classmate who is sitting right next to you."
Kaminari shrank in his seat, pale.
"I'm sorry! I didn't think of it like that! I'm sorry, Iida."
Iida stood up. His body was visibly trembling, not with anger, but with a contained pain that was struggling to get out. When he spoke, his eyes were fixed on his own hands—the ones that had failed to protect his brother.
"No… it's okay. It's not Kaminari-kun's fault. The whole world is talking about him." His gaze drifted. "Maybe his conviction is seen as 'cool.' He believes in something. But his methods are those of a murderer. There is no honor in it." He clenched his fists tightly. "Stain told me in Hosu… that I wasn't worthy of my brother's name. That my heart was rotten with vengeance. And he was right." His voice broke, a shattered whisper that silenced the entire class. "A real hero… a real hero like Tensei… would never use justice as an excuse to satisfy his own hatred. I almost did. And that… that's something I'll have to live with."
The pain was so palpable it made everyone uncomfortable. He struggled to regain his composure, his face contorted by the effort not to break down.
The tension was only broken when the door slid open and All Might entered in his muscle form, bringing a gust of forced energy with him. His gaze swept the room, noting the somber atmosphere, and his eyes met Izuku's for an instant. It was a look heavy with a weight only the two of them could understand, a silent confirmation of the battles being fought both outside and inside these walls.
"I AM HERE! FOR BASIC HERO TRAINING!"
