Chapter 21: Operation Dress the Boss! The Pink Aisle of Terror

Several hours had passed since they got back from the training grounds, and Mirko's loud chaos had given way to a strange silence between the two of them.

In the center of the coffee table, where the fashion magazines and the TV remote usually rested, a small fortress now stood. Izuku had built it out of three hardcover novels with a paper napkin serving as the roof. Inside, wrapped in another napkin like a makeshift toga, sat a tiny and deeply indignant version of Yu Takeyama.

They'd tried everything. Well, she'd tried everything. She concentrated until her head hurt, breathed the way they'd taught her in that ridiculously expensive stress management course, got angry, threatened the napkin ceiling, and even tried to bribe her own Quirk. The hero costume was no help either; the fabric hung on her like a circus tent and there was no humanly possible way to keep it on her body.

"It's not working," she growled, arms crossed on her throne of pages. "I swear to you, Midoriya, I'm stuck. My Quirk's deader than my social life this Sunday."

This is the most humiliating thing that's ever happened to me in my entire life.

Izuku was kneeling next to the table so he'd be at her eye level. Unlike her, he didn't seem alarmed in the slightest, and for some reason that irritated her and calmed her at the same time.

"Hmmm... I don't think you're stuck," he said in a calm voice. "Think about it for a second. Today you did something you'd never done before, you pushed your Quirk somewhere it had never gone, and on top of that Mirko used you as a punching bag inside my pocket. It's normal for it to be out of juice right now."

"Out of juice?" she repeated, narrowing her eyes. "Excuse me, handsome, but I'm not some cheap phone that shuts off whenever it feels like it. I'm the most gorgeous heroine to debut in Japan, and I have a shampoo endorsement. Do you have any idea what a shampoo endorsement means?"

"I get it, Yu," he answered, resting his elbows on the table, careful not to knock the fortress over. "And the endorsement's gonna still be there tomorrow, I promise. Nothing broke. Your body and your Quirk just need to rest and process everything from today."

Yu let herself drop against the spine of one of the novels and huffed. The panic had been circling the edges of her head for a while, and now it settled right into her chest. She was trapped inside her own living room, the size of a keychain, wrapped in paper towel, and for a woman who lived off appearing huge and perfect on screens, no punishment could be worse.

"It's real easy to say 'rest' when you're not the one dressed in a napkin," she snapped. "And what am I supposed to do in the meantime, huh? I can't sleep like this, I can't even reach the TV remote, and going to the bathroom would take an expedition to Everest."

She pointed at herself with an exaggerated gesture.

"I'm completely naked on my own coffee table! My reputation, my dignity, and my ass are all on the line here!"

"Yeah, yeah, you're right, it's terrible," he admitted, unfazed by the shouting, and his calm exasperated her even more. "That's exactly why I've been thinking of a solution for however long your Quirk takes to recharge."

Izuku fell silent for a moment, staring at a spot on the wall while his mind worked. Yu had already learned to fear his silences; they usually came right before a brilliant idea or an absolute catastrophe. His green eyes lit up, and she knew instantly she was going to hate what came next.

"You need clothes," Izuku said, thoroughly proud of his epiphany. "Clothes that actually fit you."

"Oh... how brilliant," Yu drawled. "And where exactly are you gonna get clothes in my current size, Mr. Brilliant Ideas? Because I don't remember passing any boutiques for human keychains on the way here."

"...We have to go to a toy store."

"Not a chance!" she yelled, jumping to her feet on the novel with her fists clenched. "Absolutely not! I refuse to walk around dressed like one of those plastic dolls with the frozen smile and the empty head! I'd rather you make me a dress out of duct tape and lettuce leaves from the fridge!"

"I don't have any lettuce," Izuku replied with a logic that left her speechless for a second.

...Hey, idiot, that was just an expression...

"And duct tape's gonna stick to you everywhere, it'd be worse. Look, it's up to you, but doll clothes are made of real fabric, they'll last and you'll be comfortable. Just think of it as a temporary costume."

Yu looked at the rough texture of her paper toga. She thought about the humiliation of walking around wrapped in duct tape, and then she thought about the humiliation of walking around dressed like a doll. Her whole life had been reduced to picking which of the two options would make her want to crawl under a rock less.

With a long, mournful groan, the sound of her last shred of dignity giving up, she collapsed onto the novel.

"You win. Let's go."

*

The trip to the toy store was silent torture, or it would've been if Yu knew what shutting up meant. She was tucked once again inside the inner pocket of Izuku's jacket, which he'd put on despite the afternoon heat.

"Walk smoother, you're churning my stomach," she whispered from the darkness of the fabric. "I already had enough of your bunny friend's punching bag routine, I don't need you giving me motion sickness too."

"Sorry," Izuku mumbled, earning himself a strange look from an elderly woman passing on the sidewalk.

"And stop talking to yourself, dude, people are gonna think you've completely lost it."

"But you're the one talking to me."

"Then don't answer back, use your head for once in your life!"

They arrived at the entrance of "Uncle Toppo's Toys and Wonders," a bright, noisy cavern that was every child's paradise and every migraine-prone adult's worst nightmare.

"Welcome to Toys and Wonders, where the fun never ends!" chirped a shrill robotic voice from a speaker above the door.

"This is hell," Yu lamented from the pocket.

Izuku, moving through the aisles like a lost penguin in the desert, dodged an army of screaming kids and a couple of parents with vacant stares. A giant sign with a smiling princess's face showed him the way, and when he turned the corner he came face to face with his target.

It was an entire wall of a pink so intense it hurt to look at. Hundreds of boxes, each one containing a doll with glassy eyes and a still smile, and next to it a spinning display packed with tiny outfits hanging on toy hangers. Izuku stood planted at the epicenter of the preteen universe, a lone young man surrounded by pink, feeling the curious stares of a couple of moms.

"Okay," he whispered toward his chest, opening his jacket a little. "We're here. Now what do I do?"

"Why are you asking me?! Wasn't this your big brilliant idea?! I've never bought doll clothes in my life! Find something normal, something that doesn't look like it came out of a birthday cake. Is there anything over there that isn't pink?"

Izuku walked up to the display and clumsily grabbed a plastic package, holding it against his chest so Yu could see it from her hiding spot.

"How about this one?" he asked in a low voice. "It's called 'Galactic Pop Star.' Comes with a silver top, a sparkly mini skirt, and boots that go all the way up."

"Are you trying to dress me or auction me off?" Yu snorted. "In that thing I'd look like a third rate space escort. Although..." she paused dangerously, "the boots aren't half bad, honestly. No, no, focus! Find me some jeans, something decent, for the love of God."

Izuku sighed, put the package back, and grabbed another one.

"What about this? 'Luxury Spa Day.' It's a pink robe and some slippers with bunny ears."

"Do I look like I wanna go to a spa stuck in the palm of your hand?" she snapped. "And get those bunny slippers out of my sight, I've had more than enough bunny for one day. Midoriya, please, I just need some pants and a shirt, it can't be this hard."

"It's harder than it looks!" he whispered, starting to sweat under his jacket. "Everything here is pink, or has glitter, or comes with some ridiculous accessory. This one comes with a pony with a purple mane."

"We don't need a pony, Midoriya."

"I know, but look at him, it'd be a shame to leave him here all alone."

"Stop staring at the pony's face and focus on your mission!" she exploded from the pocket.

At that precise moment, a cheerful, professional voice sounded right next to him.

"Hi there! Can I help you find something? A gift for your little sister, maybe?"

Izuku froze. He turned slowly and found a young employee in a vest covered in colorful pins and a smile pulled straight out of a training manual.

"Uh... n-no, not exactly," he stammered. "It's for... my girlfriend's project, for college."

The employee blinked without the smile shifting an inch.

"Ohhh, a college project? How original. Art, maybe?"

"No, science," Izuku continued, feeling the lie growing bigger with every word out of his mouth. "It's for... umm... uhh... we need scale models to study the biomechanics of fashion across different body types. It's pretty advanced work, doctorate level actually."

The employee's smile finally faded. He looked at Izuku, then at the wall of smiling dolls, then back at Izuku with a giant question mark written all over his face.

"U-uhm... okay... biomechanics of fashion, right. That sounds... fascinating. Well, if you need anything, I'll be over there, near the register."

The guy backed away slowly, not quite turning his back on him, half convinced his customer was about to dissect a Barbie right there in the middle of the aisle.

A furious whisper came from the pocket.

"Biomechanics of fashion?! You couldn't come up with a dumber excuse?!"

"I panicked!" he hissed back. "Nothing else came to mind in the moment!"

"You could've said it was for your cousin, your neighbor, anyone! Anything normal would've worked and you picked the one line guaranteed to land you on a watchlist!"

After several minutes of hushed negotiation that probably got him blacklisted from the store, they found something acceptable. Half hidden at the bottom of the display, tucked between much flashier boxes. Some dark blue skinny jeans, a red hoodie, and miniature sneakers.

Izuku grabbed it with both hands, like a trophy. He paid in cash while avoiding eye contact with the gum-chewing teenage cashier and hurried out of the store at full speed.

*

Back in the safety of the apartment, the atmosphere changed completely. The embarrassment and shame of the street stayed outside, and in its place came a solemn calm. Izuku carefully emptied the little plastic bag onto the coffee table, and the tiny garments lay there, ridiculous and vitally important at the same time.

"You need to... uh... get changed," Izuku said, scratching behind his ear.

Without waiting for an answer, he turned around and stared at the wall with all the concentration in the world.

"I'm not gonna look, take your time."

He heard a soft rustle of fabric behind him as Yu climbed out of the jacket pocket that had been left on the couch. After that, nothing else.

"Everything okay over there?" he asked, not daring to move a muscle.

"This is more complicated than it looks," she answered, her voice tight with effort. "The zipper on these jeans is... ugh!... just a little more and I've got it... almost, almost!"

A few more seconds passed in silence.

"Done, I'm finished," she finally announced.

Izuku turned around slowly.

Yu was standing in the middle of the coffee table, fully dressed. The red hoodie was too big for her and the sleeves swallowed her hands, but the stretchy jeans fit her surprisingly well. She was trying to hold a dignified pose, arms crossed and chin held high, though the effect fell apart the moment you remembered she was shorter than a coffee mug.

Izuku looked at her and a warm, genuine smile spread across his face. In front of him wasn't the imposing and dazzling Mt. Lady of the billboards, or the temperamental boss who bossed him around every day; she was just Yu, tiny and drowning in a doll hoodie two sizes too big, and she was, without a doubt, the most adorable thing he'd ever seen in his life.

I don't know how a guy's supposed to react to a boss the size of a plush toy.

Yu noticed the way he was looking at her and a blush crept up her cheeks. She looked away and adjusted her hood, suddenly unable to hold his gaze.

"What are you staring at? I look ridiculous, I already know, you don't have to say it out loud."

"No," he answered quietly. "Not at all, you look... good. Really good. I like your style."

"...Yeah, just shut up and put that phone away," Yu whispered, crossing her arms tighter. "If you dare take a picture of me, Midoriya, I swear I'll grow out of pure rage and squash you against the ceiling."

Izuku raised both hands in a sign of peace, holding back a laugh.

"No pictures, got it. Although, for the record, that threat loses some of its edge when you're currently the same size as the remote."

"I said shut up, Midoriya!" she growled, red all the way to her ears.

To escape the tension that had settled into his chest, Izuku looked for a quick way out and found it in the TV.

"We should watch a movie," he proposed. "To pass the time, until... you know. Until you're back to normal."

"Yeah, a movie sounds good," she accepted, grateful for the change of subject.

Izuku put on an All Might classic, "The Dawn of the Symbol," a predictable and comforting pick. He settled onto the couch with the coffee table between him and the screen, and to Yu, from her spot on the table, the TV looked huge, like a real movie theater screen. A few minutes into the film went by, the epic music filling the room, and she kept shifting in her seat, stretching her neck so she wouldn't miss a single second.

"You can't see anything from there," Izuku commented suddenly. "And the table's gotta be hard and uncomfortable."

"I'm perfectly fine," she lied.

Izuku looked at her, then down at his own lap, and hesitated for an instant. The image of her alone in the middle of the vast table finally won out over his hesitation, and he patted his thigh, covered in the soft fabric of his sweatpants.

"Come here," he said. "Right here, on my leg. You'll see better and you'll be more comfortable, plus if I move I won't squash you."

Yu looked at him, doubt written all over her face. The offer was absurd, the definitive surrender of what little autonomy she had left, but the alternative was staying alone on her wooden island with her neck about to snap. With a sigh so tiny only she could hear it, she made a decision.

She jumped from the table to the couch cushion, a giant leap at her size, and landed. Then, with a slowness that betrayed her nerves, she walked up to Izuku's leg, paused for a moment, and started climbing up the fabric of his pants until she settled on his thigh, using the top of his leg as a backrest.

For a good while, neither of them said anything. On the screen, All Might lifted a bus with one hand while the crowd chanted his name, and Yu, without realizing it, gradually relaxed against Izuku's leg.

Okay, fine, I'll admit it: this is horrifyingly comfortable, and if anyone dares repeat that out loud, I'll sue them for defamation

*******

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