My Hero Academia: Izuku Reloaded

"Hey everyone. Chief here." I shuffled through some index cards, trying not to drop them. "Wisteria's roped me into doing this update since apparently you guys have been asking about me?"

The cards scattered across the desk. "Damn it... give me a sec." After gathering them back up, I continued, "Right, so first up - looks like the story's been number one for four straight weeks now. Pretty wild. Major shout out to my girlfriend for putting in the work, and to all of you for actually reading it. Without readers, she'd just be writing these chapters for me to read alone in our apartment. And while I love being her test audience, it's way cooler seeing everyone get excited about the story."

I flipped to the next card. "Let's see... oh yeah, thanks for all the supportive comments about me potentially writing my own story. Still thinking about it honestly. Might give it a shot - if it sucks, well, at least I tried something new, right? Can't grow if you stay in your comfort zone."

Setting the cards down, I leaned back in the chair. "Between us? It's kind of intimidating seeing how much work she puts into this. The research, the planning, the revisions... but hey, maybe that's all the more reason to try. Learn from watching her process."

"Quick scheduling note - we're probably going to be pretty quiet this weekend. Out of town with her parents, you know how it goes. But hey, you've got this final bonus chapter of the week to tide you over until Sunday's regular update."

I glanced at the clock. "Should probably wrap this up before she gets back and finds out I went off-script from her cards. She's got this whole thing planned out way more elegantly than my rambling."

Standing up, I gave a casual wave to the audience. "Anyway, thanks for making her so happy with all your support. It's pretty awesome seeing her light up when she reads your comments. Even the ones theorizing about plot points that make her panic about being too predictable."

"Oh, and if you spot any typos? Those are definitely my fault from when I help proofread while half-asleep. My bad."

"Right, that's probably enough from me. See you all Sunday!" I started to walk away, then turned back. "Wait, am I supposed to do her catchphrase thing? The sparkly one with the- no? Okay, good, because I definitely would've messed that up."

The sound of footsteps in the hallway made me hurry. "She's coming back - quick, pretend I stuck to the script! Later everyone!"

======

"Izu!" 

I turned to see Camie stumbling toward me, supported by Tokoyami and Manga. Her usual grace was gone, replaced by exhaustion-induced clumsiness. Without thinking, I moved to catch her as she nearly tripped.

"Whoa there." I swept her up, one arm under her knees, the other supporting her back. "Those illusions really took it out of you."

"No cap, fam." She let her head rest against my shoulder. "I'm straight starving right now."

"Your performance was most impressive," Tokoyami intoned, Dark Shadow drooping tiredly behind him. "Though the burden of sustained combat proved taxing for us all."

"VICTORY!" Manga's speech bubble proclaimed, though his shoulders sagged with fatigue.

Mei bounced around us, already scribbling in her notebook. "The heat beam worked perfectly! Though next time we should adjust the thermal output by at least 13.7% to better counter ice-based attacks. Oh! And maybe add a rotating base to-"

"Babies later," I interrupted gently. "Food first."

"Your defense was amazing!" 

Uraraka approached with Yaoyorozu, both looking worn but impressed. Despite their loss, they carried themselves with dignity.

"That last stand was particularly well-executed," Yaoyorozu said, her analytical mind clearly reviewing the battle. "Though I must admit, I didn't expect Manga's quirk to have such raw power."

"PLUS ULTRA!" Manga's speech bubble sparkled with pride.

"Yo, Midoriya!" 

Kirishima and Kaminari jogged over, the latter's hair still crackling with residual electricity.

"That was manly as hell!" Kirishima's sharp-toothed grin was genuine. "You should've seen our team. Bakugo got stuck fighting this guy who could copy quirks-"

"Monoma," Kaminari supplied.

"Yeah! Dude copied his explosion and they just kept blasting each other. Bakugo's pissed."

"When isn't he?" I asked dryly.

"Fair point," Kaminari laughed. "He won but like, extra pissed. The kind where his eye does that twitchy thing."

Hagakure's approach. Her gloves wrung together nervously. "Um, Midoriya?"

"Hey." I shifted Camie slightly in my arms. "How did you out there?"

Her voice wavered. "I don't...I can't really remember much of the fortress battle. Everything's kind of fuzzy after it started."

That caught my attention. "Nothing at all?"

"Just...fragments? I remember being on someone's team, but..." Her gloves clutched at empty air. "It's all blurry."

Interesting. "We can review the footage together if you'd like. Might help piece things together."

"Really?" The hope in her voice was palpable. "You'd do that?"

"Of course. But first-" I glanced at my girlfriend, then at our exhausted teammates. "I think we all need food."

"The cafeteria's probably packed," Yaoyorozu noted. "But I think-"

"Midoriya."

The temperature seemed to drop several degrees as Todoroki approached. Her expression was neutral, but tension radiated from her stance.

"We need to talk," she said. "Privately."

Camie stirred in my arms, mumbling something about "bad vibes" before relaxing again. The others shifted uncomfortably, picking up on the charged atmosphere.

I studied Todoroki's face, noting the barely concealed urgency in her eyes. Whatever she wanted to discuss, it was important enough to overcome her usual reserved nature.

"Tokoyami," I said, carefully setting Camie down so she could stand up. "Could you make sure she gets some food? Something with protein."

"It shall be done," he confirmed.

"Momo, would you mind getting a table at the cafeteria? I'll catch up once I'm done here."

She nodded, understanding the subtle dismissal. "Of course. Come on, everyone."

As the others moved away, I turned back to Todoroki. Her heterochromatic gaze hadn't wavered.

"Alright," I said. "Let's talk."

[With Hitomi] 

Hitomi's footsteps echoed in the empty corridor as she led Midoriya away from the others. Her heart hammered against her ribs, but she kept her face impassive, refusing to betray the chaos swirling inside her. The slip during their battle had been unforgivable. Fire. Her left side had betrayed her, responding to Midoriya's taunting movements, his casual dismissal of her ice attacks.

Just like he predicted in the locker room.

She clenched her left hand into a fist, suppressing the heat that threatened to rise again. Last night's conversation with her father replayed in her head like a nightmare she couldn't escape.

"You will use your fire tomorrow."

Endeavor's voice had filled her bedroom, unwelcome and intrusive like everything about him. He stood at the doorway, flames crackling along his shoulders, casting harsh shadows across the walls.

Hitomi hadn't looked up from her book. "No."

"This isn't a request, Hitomi." He'd stepped closer, the temperature in the room rising. "The Sports Festival is your debut. The world needs to see what you're capable of."

"What you created, you mean." She'd turned a page with deliberate slowness. "Your perfect weapon."

His massive hand had slammed down on her desk, scorching the wood. "This childish rebellion ends tomorrow. You will show everyone the power of my legacy."

"I will win using only my ice." She'd finally met his gaze, her own cold and unyielding. "That will be enough."

Endeavor had laughed then, the sound grating against her ears. "Your mother's stubbornness. It doesn't suit you." He'd turned to leave, pausing at the doorway. "Remember why I created you, Hitomi. Remember your purpose. It wasn't to be second-best."

After he'd gone, she'd pressed her right hand against her desk, freezing the scorched handprint her father had left. The ice had cracked the wood, splitting it down the middle.

Now, she pushed open the door to one of the private waiting rooms, gesturing for Midoriya to enter. She needed somewhere secure, somewhere no one can overhear. The door clicked shut behind them, and she turned the lock with a decisive snap.

Oh my…

When she turned around, the full impact of Midoriya's presence hit her. The locker room confrontation had been public, performative. This was different. In the confined space, his height seemed more imposing, his shoulders broader than she'd realized. The fluorescent lights caught the green of his eyes, making them glow like emeralds against his skin.

Those eyes studied her now, calm and calculating. Not hostile, but not yielding either. Just... waiting. Patient. Like water wearing down stone.

Hitomi found herself frozen, caught in his gaze. There was something about him that demanded attention—not through force or intimidation like her father, but through a quiet, immovable confidence. 

A small cough broke the silence.

"So what's up, Todoroki?" Midoriya's voice was casual, but his eyes remained alert, tracking her slightest movements.

The mundane question snapped her back to reality. She straightened her spine, rebuilding her walls brick by brick.

"I need to explain something to you." Her voice came out steadier than she felt. "About our match. About what you saw."

Midoriya leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. "The fire."

"Yes." She moved to the window, putting distance between them. Outside, festival-goers streamed toward food stalls, oblivious to the drama unfolding behind closed doors. "I never use my left side."

"I noticed." His tone remained neutral, neither judging nor encouraging.

"I need you to understand why." She turned back to him, maintaining her clinical detachment. This wasn't about emotions. This was about facts. "Do you know how quirk marriages work, Midoriya?"

A flicker of distaste crossed his face. "I've read about them. They were common in the early days of quirks. Parents with powerful abilities arranging marriages to produce children with specific combinations."

"They're technically illegal now." Hitomi's voice remained flat. "But that didn't stop my father."

She watched his face for a reaction, but his expression remained attentive, focused solely on her words.

"He couldn't surpass All Might through his own power, so he decided to create someone who could." The words tasted bitter on her tongue. "He found my mother because of her ice quirk. Their marriage wasn't for love—it was for breeding."

Midoriya's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.

"I had siblings before me. None had the perfect balance he wanted." She folded her arms across her chest. "Then I was born. Half-Cold, Half-Hot. His masterpiece."

Outside, laughter drifted in, the sound jarring against her narrative.

"The training started before I can remember. Brutal. Endless." She kept her voice even, reciting facts like a medical history. "My mother tried to stop it. To protect me. They fought about it constantly."

Hitomi turned away, facing the window again. She couldn't look at him for this part.

"One day, she was boiling water in the kitchen. I walked in, and she..." Hitomi's reflection stared back at her, the scar vivid against her pale skin.

The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken horror.

"She's in a mental hospital now. Has been for years." Hitomi's right hand drifted to her scarred face, fingertips tracing the familiar ridges. "My father continued my training as if nothing had happened. As if she hadn't been broken by his ambition."

She turned back to Midoriya, steeling herself. "That's why I refuse to use his fire. I rejected him the moment I got into UA on recommendations. I will become the number one hero using only my ice. I'll deny him the satisfaction of seeing his creation fulfill his purpose."

Midoriya pushed off from the wall, taking a slow step toward her. "And today? During our match?"

Hitomi's composure cracked slightly. "A mistake. It won't happen again."

"Is it really a mistake to use your own power?" His voice remained gentle, but his words struck like precision blows. "The fire isn't his, Hitomi. It's yours."

The use of her name on his lips sent an unexpected jolt through her system. 

"You don't understand." She shook her head, frost crystals forming in her hair. "Every time I feel that heat, I remember what he did to her. What he made her become."

"I understand more than you think." Midoriya took another step closer. "But ask yourself this—by refusing to use half your quirk, who are you really hurting? Him? Or yourself?"

Heat flared in her cheeks. "Don't pretend to know me after one conversation."

"I don't." He held her gaze. "But I know what it looks like when someone's fighting themselves harder than their opponent."

Another step closer. The room suddenly felt smaller, the air between them charged with something Hitomi couldn't name.

"You called me out in the locker room," he continued. "Said you'd beat me with just your ice to prove natural talent trumps training."

"I will."

A smile touched his lips, not mocking but challenging. "Then why tell me all this? Why explain yourself to me at all?"

The question caught her off guard. Why had she pulled him aside? Why did she feel this compulsion to make him understand?

"Because..." She struggled to find the right words. "Because you saw it. The fire. And if you face me in the tournament. I needed you to know it was a fluke."

"Was it?" He stepped closer still, now within arm's reach. "Or was it your body's natural response when pushed past your artificial limits?"

Hitomi backed up instinctively, her shoulders hitting the window. "Stay back."

He stopped immediately, respecting her boundary, but his presence remained overwhelming. The room felt too warm suddenly, despite the frost gathering at her fingertips.

"You know," he said, his voice dropping lower, "most people would kill for a quirk like yours. The perfect balance of opposing elements. Heat and cold. Fire and ice."

"It's not about the quirk." Her voice came out harsher than intended. "It's about what it represents."

"I get that." His eyes softened slightly. "But think about it this way—every time you reject your fire, you're letting him control your choices. You're still defining yourself by his standards, just in opposition."

The observation struck too close to home. Hitomi felt her defenses wavering, uncertainty creeping in where conviction had stood moments before.

"True freedom," Midoriya continued, "would be using all of your power because you choose to, not because of him either way."

Hitomi became acutely aware of details she'd never noticed before—the faint scent of sandalwood that clung to him, the subtle strength in his forearms where he'd rolled up his sleeves.

"You don't know what you're talking about," she said, but the words lacked conviction.

"Maybe not." He shrugged, the movement drawing her eye to his shoulders. "But I do know what it's like to have people tell you what you can and can't become."

Something in his tone made her look up sharply. There was a vulnerability there, hidden beneath layers of confidence.

"You're quirkless," she said.

"I am." No shame in the admission, no defensiveness. Just simple fact. "And every day of my life, I've been told what that means. What limitations I should accept."

"Yet here you are." The words escaped before she could stop them.

"Yet here I am." His smile returned, genuine this time. "Because I decided my path, not anyone else."

Hitomi found herself noticing the curve of his jaw, the intensity of his gaze. Her heart beat faster, responding to his proximity in ways that confused and alarmed her.

"Why did you really challenge me?" he asked suddenly. "The truth this time."

"I needed to understand," she admitted. "How someone without a quirk could do what you did. It... challenged everything I thought I knew."

"And now?"

"Now I'm more confused than ever." The confession slipped out, more honest than she'd intended.

Midoriya's expression softened. "That's not always a bad thing. Sometimes confusion is the first step toward clarity."

He took a half-step back, giving her space to breathe. 

"For what it's worth," he said, "I think you'd be formidable even without either side of your quirk. Your tactical mind, your precision—those aren't powers you inherited from anyone."

The unexpected compliment caught her off guard. Heat bloomed across her cheeks, and this time it had nothing to do with her quirk.

"I—" She stopped, unsure how to respond to praise without agenda. Her father's compliments always came with expectations attached. This felt different. "Thank you."

Midoriya nodded, then glanced at the clock on the wall. "We should probably head back. I'm starving."

"Right." She straightened, gathering her composure. "This conversation changes nothing. I still intend to defeat you in the tournament."

His smile turned playful, almost teasing. "I'd be disappointed if you didn't try."

As he turned toward the door, Hitomi found herself speaking without planning the words. "Midoriya."

He paused, looking back over his shoulder. The angle caught the light in his green eyes, making them seem to glow.

"Good luck." 

He smiled back before finally leaving. "I make my own."