"So? Have you decided if the concrete in Gym Gamma is superior to any other you've seen?"
Nemuri's teasing voice pulled Izuku from his reverie. He was so focused on his cappuccino, stirring the foam with a small spoon, that he hadn't realized he'd been silent for nearly a minute.
"It's not that simple," he replied, looking up with complete seriousness. "The one in Field Beta is designed to be replaced in sections. It's cheaper, more modular. You can destroy an entire wall and have a new one in under twenty-four hours. It's efficient for large-scale destructive training."
"Fascinating. Truly, I could listen to talk about cement all day," Nemuri said, taking a sip of her own latte. She rested her chin on her hand, her eyes shining with amusement. "But that's not what I was referring to, and you know it."
Izuku blinked. "No?"
"No. I was referring to the research that kept you up until three in the morning. Did you discover anything... revealing?" Her smile widened. "I thought your kind of analysis was limited to subjects with more... curves."
A light blush colored Izuku's face. "Oh, that! It was about weight distribution and tensile strength. Yu's costume isn't just for show; it's a work of engineering. The way the fibers stretch and reinforce at key points to withstand the strain of her gigantification without tearing is..."
Nemuri held up a hand to stop him. "Stop, stop. I take it back. I prefer the talk about concrete." She let out a small laugh. "Izuku-kun, sometimes I wonder if you realize how you sound."
"How I sound?" he asked, genuinely confused.
"You explain things like you're reading from a technical manual, but with a passion that practically shines in your eyes," she replied, her smile becoming a bit more genuine. "But I suppose that's part of your charm."
"I just think it's interesting," Izuku insisted, leaning over the table, the passion returning to his voice. "It's not just the costume. It's U.A.'s facilities! The material in Gym Gamma is an alloy with self-repairing polymers. That means it can withstand impacts from top-tier heroes without suffering permanent structural damage! Can you imagine the training possibilities that opens up? You could test full-power moves without worrying about the repair budget. We could simulate..."
He stopped short. It wasn't because of anything Nemuri said. It was the atmosphere. The constant buzz of conversations and the clinking of cups seemed to fade to near silence. A shadow had fallen over their table, blocking the soft light from the window. The air suddenly felt cold.
He looked up and saw her.
Yu Takeyama was standing beside them.
She wasn't wearing her hero costume. She wore designer skinny jeans and a cream-colored silk blouse that probably cost more than a month of Izuku's food. Her blonde hair fell in perfect waves over her shoulders, and her makeup was subtle yet flawless. At first glance, she looked like a celebrity trying to go unnoticed, but her posture betrayed it all. She stood stiffly, her shoulders back and her hands clenched into fists at her sides. The smile on her face was a tight line that didn't reach her eyes.
"Izuku," she said. Her voice was calm, but it had a sharp edge. "Kayama-san."
The way she used his first name wasn't a greeting, but a claim of ownership. The use of Nemuri's formal surname was a clear sign of hostility.
Izuku, oblivious to the tension that was brewing, smiled broadly. "Yu? I'm so glad you made it! Sit, sit. We were just talking about U.A.! It's an amazing place. Did you know the ventilation system in the main cafeteria can recycle the air in under five minutes to eliminate any toxic agents accidentally released during a food fight? Probably!"
"I didn't know you needed a supervisor to have coffee, Izuku," Yu interrupted, not even looking at him. Her eyes were fixed on Nemuri, sizing her up with a calculating, hostile gaze.
Nemuri was unfazed. She raised her cup in a gesture that was almost a toast, her smile as sweet as venom. "Oh, don't worry, Takeyama, dear. I'm just following orders. Principal Nezu insists I familiarize myself with all of young Izuku's... assets. It's a most exhaustive job, I assure you." She paused, giving her next words more weight. "Strictly professional, of course."
A young, acne-faced waiter approached the table, completely unaware of the cold war that had just been declared. "Are you ready to order anything else?"
"An Americano. Black," Yu said, her voice so low and sharp that the waiter flinched. She didn't take her eyes off Nemuri for a second.
Izuku, feeling the overwhelming tension in the air for the first time, tried to smooth things over. "Yu, you should try the cheesecake here. They say it's really good. Nemuri and I were thinking of sharing a slice..."
"I said black," Yu repeated, her voice dropping to a hiss.
The waiter nearly tripped stepping back. "Right away," he mumbled, practically fleeing to the safety of the counter.
Izuku looked from one woman to the other, his brain finally beginning to register the signs of open hostility he had been ignoring. Yu was sitting so straight it looked like she might snap in half. Nemuri, on the other hand, had leaned back in her seat, one leg crossed over the other, projecting an air of total and absolute control. She seemed to be enjoying the show.
The waiter returned, placed Yu's coffee on the table with a trembling hand, and retreated to what he considered a safe distance. Yu waited for him to leave before speaking, her voice now a controlled whisper, but every word was laden with an icy fury.
"So, Izuku. Explain it to me. Slowly." She leaned forward slightly. "How does my personal assistant, the person I hired to help me, with my career, end up taking a job at U.A. and going on trips with... her?"
"It's an amazing opportunity, Yu!" he said, his natural enthusiasm having no effect on her cold demeanor. "Principal Nezu made me an offer I couldn't refuse! I'm going to participate in a long-term test to develop a new training protocol! This could change the way heroes are trained!"
"I'm not asking Principal Nezu," she cut him off, her voice losing some of its control. "I'm asking you. You have an agreement with me, Izuku. A contract. Your primary responsibility is my training. My support. Or does none of that matter anymore because something bigger and shinier came along?"
The accusation, and the pain barely veiled beneath the anger, finally reached Izuku. The smile vanished from his face. "Of course it matters! It matters more than anything! That's why I accepted. Don't you see? Think of everything I can learn at U.A.! The resources, the knowledge, the access to dozens of different Quirks! Everything I learn there, every piece of data I collect, I can use to make you even stronger. It's a win-win situation!"
"What your enthusiastic assistant is trying to say, Yu, sweetheart," Nemuri interjected, stirring her coffee with infuriating slowness, "is that his talent is too great to be dedicated exclusively to a rookie hero who's still trying to figure out how not to trip over her own publicity. It's a natural progression."
Yu let out a laugh. It was a short, bitter sound, completely devoid of joy. "Natural progression? Or is it that you just can't stand the idea of someone else having something good that you don't?" Her gaze, cold and sharp, locked onto Nemuri. "It's always been this way, hasn't it, Nemuri? You always had to be the best, the most popular, the one who hogged all the attention. You've never known how to share the stage."
Nemuri placed her spoon on its saucer with a delicate 'click.' The edges of her smile tightened by a fraction of a millimeter. "Oh, how cute. I thought you were over your second-place complex. It's not my fault Principal Nezu recognizes generational talent when he sees it. Some of us don't need to literally stumble upon genius in a dark alley to recognize its value."
"I didn't stumble upon him!" Yu protested, her control finally starting to crack. Her voice rose, causing a couple at the next table to look over. "The situation was... complex!"
"So complex that you ended up on the cover of every tabloid for going on a date with a teenager. Yes, I vaguely recall," Nemuri replied with venomous sweetness.
As they exchanged verbal shots, Izuku's mind disconnected from the emotional weight of the conversation. He wasn't processing the venom, the history of rivalry, or the jealousy. To him, it was like listening to two executives arguing over the allocation of a valuable resource. His brain, almost by instinct, filtered out the emotion and focused on the raw data.
He pulled his notebook and a pen from his jacket pocket. Yu and Nemuri were too engrossed in their staredown to notice.
Problem, he wrote on a new page. Jurisdictional conflict of interest.
Entity A: Mt. Lady Agency (MLA). Objective: Exclusive optimization of the hero Mt. Lady. Advantages: Direct and constant access, focused testing environment. Disadvantages: Limited resources, repetitive training environment, potential for data stagnation.
Entity B: U.A. Academy (UA). Objective: Evaluation and development of Asset Midoriya for the benefit of the general hero program. Advantages: Nearly limitless resources, access to a wide variety of Quirks for comparative analysis, state-of-the-art facilities. Disadvantages: Time dedicated to Asset Midoriya limited by academic duties. External supervision (Kayama).
Primary Conflict: Logistics, he scribbled on the page, underlining it twice. Time is a finite resource. Transportation between the MLA agency and UA facilities is inefficient. Valuable training time that could be dedicated to MLA is lost. The assignment of Supervisor Kayama adds a layer of bureaucratic and authoritative complexity. How can Asset Midoriya achieve both objectives simultaneously without compromising the efficiency of either?
He looked at the two heroines. The argument had reached a stalemate.
"...and as his officially assigned supervisor from U.A., I will have the final say on his training schedule and the protocols he uses," Nemuri was saying with an air of finality.
"He's my assistant! I pay his salary!" Yu retorted, her voice a low, furious hiss. "My name is on his employment contract!"
"A contract that, I'm sure, has a professional development clause that this more than covers," Nemuri countered.
The solution was so obvious. So simple. So elegantly logical it was almost beautiful. How could they not see it? The answer wasn't division, but consolidation.
It was then that Izuku, having solved the puzzle in his head, slammed his palm on the table. It wasn't a strike of anger or frustration. It was a strike of pure, jubilant epiphany.
"I've got it!"
The sudden sound, amplified in the tense atmosphere, made both women jump in their seats. They fell silent instantly, startled by his outburst, and turned to stare at him in absolute bewilderment.
Izuku looked at them with a bright, beaming smile, the expression of a man who had just discovered the secret of the universe.
"You're looking at the problem the wrong way," he said, his voice vibrating with a contagious enthusiasm that stood in absurd contrast to the hostility of the moment. "The problem isn't who I belong to or who I spend my time with. The problem is logistics! The distance! The separation of resources!"
He pointed to his open notebook. "I need to be at U.A. for my test and to learn from the other students, but I also need to keep training you, Yu, with access to the best possible facilities. It's inefficient to have to choose! The travel time is a loss for both programs!"
His gaze shifted from one to the other, his excitement growing with every word.
"But! What if we eliminate the need to choose? What if we combine the objectives? What if the subject of my long-term training and my testing duties were... in the same place?"
His eyes landed on Yu, shining with what he considered the most brilliant idea in the history of mankind.
"Yu... you should become a teacher at U.A.!"
The silence that followed was of a completely different quality. It wasn't tense. It was a silence of pure, absolute, and abysmal stupefaction.
Yu's jaw visibly dropped. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, unable to form words. Her brain tried, and failed spectacularly, to process the sequence of words she had just heard. She went through at least five different stages of disbelief in less than three seconds.
Finally, she found her voice. Or, at least, a strangled, high-pitched version of it.
"WHAT?!"
"Think about it! It's perfect!" Izuku continued, completely oblivious to the fracture in reality he had just caused. He half-rose from his seat, gesturing with his hands. "You could be hired as an assistant teacher or a special guest in the practical combat department. I could officially be your teaching assistant! We could train together at U.A.'s facilities after classes! We could collaborate on training the student I choose for my test, using your field experience and my analysis! We would optimize our schedules, have access to elite resources, and I could fulfill my obligations to both parties simultaneously! It eliminates all inefficiencies! It's the perfect solution!"
Yu stared at him, her face a mask of pale horror. "Izuku..." she began, her voice a trembling whisper. "Have you hit your head? Have you gone completely insane?" Her voice began to rise in volume and speed with every word. "A TEACHER?! ME?! I'm barely a full-fledged professional hero! My debut was a nationally televised disaster they still use as an example of what not to do! Right now there's a tabloid article about me dating a minor—YOU—circulating all over the country! I have no teaching experience! No pedagogical credentials! The Public Safety Commission would laugh in my face! It's the most absurd, insane, irrational, and absolutely stupid idea I have ever heard in my entire life!"
Nemuri, who had been watching all this with near-total paralysis, suddenly let out a choked sound. A snort she tried to suppress, but it escaped anyway.
And then, it happened.
A deep, genuine, and absolutely hysterical laugh erupted from her. She threw herself back in her seat, laughing so hard that people at nearby tables turned to look, some in alarm, others in curiosity. She covered her mouth with her hand, but it was useless. The laughter shook her whole body. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes as she surrendered to the pure, glorious madness of the situation.
"Oh, my God..." she managed to get out between gasps, wiping a tear with the back of her hand. "I'm sorry... really... it's just... a teacher! Oh, this kid is a national treasure!"
It took her a full minute to calm down, a minute during which Yu looked to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown and Izuku watched her in total confusion. When she finally did, she took a deep breath and looked at Yu. Nemuri's eyes shone with a renewed malice and amusement, and with the spark of a new, terrible idea that had just been born.
"You know, Takeyama..." she said, her voice still trembling with suppressed laughter. "Now that I think about it... it's not actually the worst idea I've ever heard."
Yu's head snapped toward her. "Excuse me? Have you gone insane too?"
"No, no, hear me out," Nemuri continued, leaning forward, her face taking on a conspiratorial expression. "Not as a combat teacher. You're right, that's ridiculous. But think about it another way. You have firsthand experience with the dangers of a failed debut. With pressure from the media. With scandals." Her smile turned sharp. "You could teach a special class. A seminar for third-years. Something like... 'Public Image Management Post-Scandal' or 'Damage Control for Emerging Professionals.' You would be, without a doubt, the country's foremost expert on the subject."
Izuku nodded with feverish enthusiasm, missing the venom in Nemuri's words. "Exactly! Practical experience! It's the best kind of teaching! You could use your own debut as a case study. Analyze the mistakes, propose alternative strategies! It would be incredibly valuable for the students!"
Yu looked from the earnest, enthusiastic face of her assistant to the malicious smile of her lifelong rival. The battle she had come to fight, the struggle for custody of her only advantage in the competitive world of heroes, had been lost. Worse. It had been hijacked, twisted, and transformed into a completely different war, one she could never have imagined in her wildest, most feverish dreams.
She was trapped. Completely trapped between the crushing, insane logic of Izuku and Nemuri's insatiable appetite for chaos. She had come here to reassert her control, to put Nemuri in her place, and to remind Izuku where his loyalty lay. Instead, she had completely lost control, not just of her assistant, but of the entire trajectory of her professional life.
I've lost, she thought, a void opening inside her as she looked at the two expectant faces. I don't even know what battle I was fighting, but I've lost it completely.