The UA gym's walls split open with a heavy clank, the hydraulic hiss echoing like a stage curtain rising for a dangerous play. Behind them, the multi-story training building loomed—a convincing replica of an urban crisis zone.
Shards of fake glass glittered on the floor, broken windows gaped like open wounds, and flickering fluorescent lights painted the walls in sickly yellow flashes. A recording of panicked screams looped faintly in the background, mixing with the low hum of machinery. The top floor glowed ominously in pulsing red light, signaling the location of the "hostages."
Midnight stepped forward with her trademark smirk, cracking her whip once for emphasis.
"Alright, next pair—Midoriya Izuku and Asui Tsuyu! Your mission: secure the hostages on the top floor. The bots are armed, demand a ransom, and are watching every entrance. You have ten minutes. Fail, and the 'hostages' are terminated. Remember—non-lethal takedowns only. Style points if you make it look good."
"Understood," Tsuyu replied, her calm, unblinking stare landing on Izuku like she was already sizing up his plan.
They moved into the corner of the prep zone as the tech crew hustled around them, resetting the simulation. Izuku crouched low, eyes scanning the holographic building schematics projected onto the wall.
He didn't just look—he read the whole thing in seconds, mapping every exit, every likely line of fire, every shadow he could use.
"Okay," he began, voice low but steady, "the building layout shows one main stairwell, but the bots will have it locked down with crossfire. The hostages are at the north end, windows barred. If we just rush in, they'll 'shoot' before we can blink."
Tsuyu's mouth curved just slightly. "So we need a distraction, ribbit."
"Exactly," Izuku said, his tone sharpening. "They want ransom money, so you bring it to them. Keep their attention. I'll take the fire escape stairs, slip inside from above, and drop in behind them."
Her eyes narrowed. "If they see you coming in, the hostages could be in danger."
Izuku gave a quick, confident grin, brushing her concern aside with a wave of his hand. "They won't see me. I'll wait until you've got their eyes locked on you… then take them all down before they can even turn their heads."
From their earpieces, Midnight's voice came through crisp and teasing. "Ready, team? Make Mama proud."
Izuku rose from his crouch, rolling his shoulders, already mentally placing himself in the enemy's blind spots.
"Ready."
"Ready," Tsuyu echoed, her tone calm—but her fingers flexed, the way she always did before a jump.
The klaxon sounded, the red lights bathed them in warning, and the scenario began.
[Simulation Start]
The red alarm light bathed the stairwell in pulses, casting long shadows over cracked walls and debris-strewn floors.
Tsuyu hopped lightly toward the main entrance, the duffel bag of fake ransom cash swaying with each movement. Her pace was unhurried, her posture calm—projecting the perfect picture of someone who wasn't a threat.
"I've got the cash, ribbit! No one gets hurt, right?" Her voice echoed up the stairwell, steady and even.
Inside the hostage room, four combat-training bots swiveled in perfect unison, glowing crimson optics locking onto her. The two by the doorway adjusted their stance, weapons trained, while the other two loomed behind the bound mannequins that served as hostages.
The lead bot stepped forward, metal servos whining. Its synthetic voice rasped:
"Place the bag on the floor. No sudden movements."
Meanwhile, above the cheap ceiling tiles, Izuku crouched in the dusty crawlspace, his back pressed against a beam. He moved with deliberate control, each step a whisper over the metal supports. Through the narrow ventilation grate, he had a perfect top-down view of the hostages and their guards.
His pulse slowed, breathing steady. He mapped his attack in seconds.
Down below, Tsuyu knelt and set the bag down with deliberate slowness. "See? No tricks," she said, tilting her head just enough to keep their red optics fixed squarely on her. She could feel the weight of their mechanical gazes—unblinking, cold.
The lead bot bent down to scan the bag—
*CRASH.*
The ceiling panel above the hostages exploded inward as Izuku dropped like a hawk striking prey. His boots hit the floor between the two guards before they could process the sound.
*WHAM*
A low sweep kick knocked the first bot's legs out from under it.
*THUNK*
His palm strike landed at the base of the second's neck, triggering its shutdown protocol.
The doorway bots jerked around—too slow.
Izuku's body blurred as he dashed forward, yanking one bot's weapon free and flipping it over his shoulder into the wall with a crash of metal and plaster.
The last one raised its weapon—
*THWACK*
Tsuyu's leg lashed out like a whip, her heel connecting squarely with its head. The bot's red optics flickered and died as it crumpled to the floor.
Silence fell except for the faint hum of the simulation machinery.
Izuku gave Tsuyu a quick, easy grin. "And that's game."
Her lips curled just slightly. "Nice, ribbit."
From overhead speakers, Midnight's voice purred with playful satisfaction:
"Hostages secure. Time—three minutes, forty-nine seconds. Not bad, lovebirds."
Both froze for half a heartbeat.
"W-We're not—!" Tsuyu began, cheeks warming, but Izuku just smirked and started walking toward the exit.
"Come on. Let's go."
Tsuyu exhaled through her nose, hopping after him. She kept her eyes forward, but a faint smile still tugged at the corner of her mouth.
' Maybe we do look good together…' she thought.
...
Izuku went straight home, his mind set on one thing—rest. Today had been long enough, and he didn't want to deal with anything else. The sun was already dipping toward the horizon, painting the windows in deep orange and gold.
When he opened the door, the faint smell of cleaning products greeted him. Inko was in the living room, wearing casual clothes and wiping down the coffee table, humming softly to herself. She glanced up for a second, but before she could say anything, Izuku slipped past silently, taking the stairs two at a time.
He knew exactly what he was doing—distance was bait. If he stayed quiet, stayed out of reach, she'd be the one to close the gap.
Downstairs, Inko paused mid-swipe, her gaze lingering on the empty staircase. She let out a slow sigh. The series she had watched earlier was still playing in her mind—its suggestive tone, the way the "characters" had blurred boundaries. It was ridiculous, she told herself… and yet, it had left her restless.
It felt like the universe had been throwing signals at her all day, as if pushing her toward something she couldn't quite admit aloud.
'I need to talk to him…' she decided, setting down the cleaning rag.
She tidied the rest of the room almost automatically, her thoughts elsewhere. Once the living room was spotless, she headed to the kitchen, washing her hands, then lingered by the hallway mirror. She smoothed her hair, checking her reflection as if preparing for… what exactly? She wasn't sure.
Upstairs, Izuku heard her light footsteps on the stairs. A faint smirk touched his lips. Without a word, he peeled off his shirt, letting the cool air brush over his skin. His muscles flexed slightly as he stretched, making sure the first thing she saw would be exactly what he intended.
Knock knock.
Before she could even lower her hand from the door, it swung open in a blur, his sudden presence startling her.
Her eyes instinctively traveled over his bare chest, tracing the lines of muscle before she realized what she was doing and quickly glanced down.
"Izuku, honey," she began, her voice a little softer than usual. "I just wanted to check up on you. We haven't really spoken today. Can I come in?"
"Yeah, sure," he said smoothly, stepping aside.
She walked in quietly, her hands folded in front of her, while he closed the door with deliberate slowness.
As she glanced around his room, he studied her from behind, a calm but calculating expression settling over his features.
' Let's see if it worked…' he thought.
TO BE CONTINUED