Chapter 54: A Secret Program and Cheap Ramen!

"Okay, okay... let me make sure I got this right." Yu straightened up on the couch, an increasingly cheeky grin spreading across her face. "So now I can control size and weight separately? I can even make just one arm bigger if I feel like it? And I can go giant without getting slow?"

Yu let out a small laugh, clearly delighted with the idea.

"Midoriya, do you realize what you just did? I just unlocked a ton of new possibilities!"

"That's one way to put it... but yeah, basically." Izuku nodded as he looked over his notes. "Though there's one thing we should test carefully. The density system in your manual burns through a crazy amount of calories. If you use it too much or without control, you could end up passing out in the middle of a fight."

"Bah, we'll figure that out later." Yu waved a hand dismissively. "I'm not gonna let a few energy problems ruin this. First I wanna find out how far I can push it."

She leaned forward with a competitive smile.

"Besides... if this works the way we think it does, I could get way more versatile than before. You know what that means? I won't just dominate the rankings; even better, I'll show up in every headline!"

I don't know whether to envy her or worry about her... Is this what they call resilience?, Izuku thought as he watched her.

"And, to be fair, it's not like you two can test anything today," he murmured, pointing his pencil at Yu. "With that ankle, Takeyama-san, the only thing you're gonna make bigger is the hospital bill. Recovery Girl will be here in a few minutes, so we'll talk about training once they get your bandages off."

Nemuri, who had come into the room a little while ago, was still reclined at the other end of the huge couch, one leg crossed over the cushion and a glass of water in her hand. She didn't look guilty about anything, though her gaze drifted back and forth between the two of them, calm, entertained without needing to jump in just yet.

"I'm with Izuku," she said finally, twirling the glass between her fingers. "A new power with no practice is an accident waiting to happen. I've seen too many heroes get overconfident and end up paying the price."

"'Too many heroes'?" Yu turned her head toward her and raised an eyebrow. "What an elegant way of saying you're talking about people younger than you."

"Oh, Yu... how adorable. You still think you can get a rise out of me by bringing up my age?"

Izuku felt the temperature in the room drop a few degrees.

Oh no, here they go again.

"I've got the skin of a college girl and the reflexes of a pro," Nemuri replied without looking up from her nails. "You, on the other hand, talk an awful lot for someone who got seduced by a freckled kid in a hospital gown."

"What does that have to do with what we were talking about?!"

Izuku looked down at his notebook and pretended to go over his notes with an interest he didn't feel. He'd learned, in very little time, that getting between these two was the fastest way to end up as collateral damage. Still, what really struck him as odd wasn't the fight.

The strange part was that Nemuri was being so cooperative about this whole thing.

Why does she care so much about Takeyama-san practicing her Quirk? Izuku slowly raised his eyes.

And then, following that thread, he remembered a small detail mentioned at the hospital.

A chill ran up his spine.

Wait a second... what program were Principal Nezu and Nemuri-sensei talking about?

Izuku mentally went back over the entire conversation, searching for the exact moment when someone had bothered to explain what was going on.

He couldn't find one.

He'd simply ended up wrapped up in something with an official name, apparently connected to Yu Takeyama, without anyone bothering to ask whether he wanted to be part of it.

On one hand, working on a program with Mt. Lady is basically a dream come true.

On the other... I'm caught up in some secret thing I just found out about by accident... What a survival instinct I've got! Stupid Izuku, this is all your fault for thinking about boobs all the time.

"Nemuri-sensei," he said as he closed the notebook. "Can I ask you something?"

"You can ask," Nemuri replied, bringing the glass to her lips. "Whether I answer is another matter."

Izuku swallowed.

"The principal said Takeyama-san got into a program. And from what I understood, I'm part of it too. The problem is... nobody's explained exactly what it is."

Nemuri looked at him over the rim of the glass, and a smile slowly formed on her lips.

"You'll find out Monday."

"Monday? But that's several days away!"

"Exactly," she replied, delighted to see him squirm. "A few days where you can let your imagination do all the work."

"And there's no way you could give me even a tiny hint?" Izuku clasped his hands together in a pleading gesture. "A title... I promise I know how to keep secrets!"

Nemuri started to laugh.

"Oh, I'm sure you know how to keep secrets. But I'm also pretty sure you're incapable of leaving a mystery alone."

Izuku opened his mouth to protest, but Nemuri just took another sip of her drink, ignoring him.

"Monday," she repeated with complete calm. "Enjoy not knowing everything for a bit. Uncertainty can be fun too."

Izuku slumped back against the couch, completely defeated.

I hate not knowing things. I'm literally the last person you should ever tell 'wait a few days and find out later.'

His brain, unable to sit still, started filling in the gaps on its own.

A secret program, two pro heroines, and me stuck right in the middle... It could be a special operation. A rapid response unit or an experimental project...

A small smile crept onto his lips.

I might even get a special ID. I can already picture the badge: undercover agent and pro hero. Oh, and official booster of girls with big brea— okay, no, the title still needs work if I don't wanna get slapped.

"Midoriya."

Yu's voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

Izuku blinked.

Yu was looking at him with one raised eyebrow and a suspiciously amused smile.

"Are you scheming something?"

"I'm thinking about very heroic things, Miss Yu," he lied with admirable dignity. "Serious hero stuff."

"Oh, sure, heroic things, huh?" Yu repeated, drawing out the words with a smile that didn't believe him one bit. "Which is exactly what I'd expect from someone with such a pervy Quirk."

Izuku opened the notebook again, ignoring the comment to keep himself out of more trouble, mostly just to keep his hands busy, and went back to what he actually could solve today. If they were gonna test Yu's Quirk with her new ability to grow without slowing down, they needed a place, and not just any place.

My humble Dagobah Beach is out. He pictured Yu turned into a titan losing her balance for lack of space. If Takeyama-san loses control there, I end up flattened like a tortilla under her butt, and my mom will have to identify me by the green hair. No thanks.

He went through the options in order. An empty lot on the outskirts ran the risk of witnesses, and no warehouse roof would hold Yu in her big form. UA's training grounds were still closed until the whole USJ incident got sorted out, and asking for permission wasn't really his style.

I need a big piece of land.

"I think I've got an idea," he murmured.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and started typing.

******

DING DING

The door chime rang as Kyoka shoved the shop's entrance open with her shoulder, hands stuffed in her jacket pockets.

"Welcome to my natural habitat," she said, without much ceremony. "Try not to break anything expensive."

Momo walked in behind her and stopped as she crossed the threshold, surprised by the interior.

The place was narrow and split into two worlds. On one side, an entire wall covered in vinyl records lined up in worn wooden crates. On the other, guitars hanging from the ceiling by their necks, amps stacked up, and a counter with cables tangled on top. A song with a heavy bassline Momo didn't recognize came out of the speakers, though the sound was pleasant to her.

"It's..." she murmured, searching for the right word. "Fascinating. I've never been anywhere like this."

Kyoka glanced at her sideways.

"It's a record store, Yaoyorozu. Not some kind of ancient temple."

"I know that." Momo walked up to the wall of vinyls and looked at the covers. "It's just that... at home, music was always something very different. This is a whole different thing."

Kyoka watched her as she flipped through a crate of records. She'd expected Momo to walk in and look at everything with the distant politeness rich people reserve for things they find quaint. What she hadn't expected was for the heiress to stand in front of a secondhand rock record, running her fingertips over the cover.

"You can take it out of the crate, it doesn't bite."

"Can I really pick it up?" Momo hesitated with her hand stopped halfway.

"It's a store, the whole point is that you grab stuff."

Momo took the record out with both hands and turned it over to read the track list on the back.

"Honestly, I'd been wanting to come," she admitted, still looking at the cover. "When we exchanged contacts, I didn't imagine you'd invite me somewhere. So when you did... I thought it would be a good opportunity."

Kyoka stopped going through the records.

"An opportunity for what?"

Momo took a second to answer.

"To get to know your world a little better, I suppose. On the bus you mentioned music, but it was clear it mattered to you. And it made me curious." She looked around the store. "I don't usually have many reasons to come to places like this."

Kyoka gave her a look before going back to digging through the records.

"For someone who just wanted to see a record store, you sure prepped that speech."

"I rehearsed it a little before coming," Momo admitted, without a hint of embarrassment. "I made several versions and ended up picking the least formal one."

"That was the least formal one?"

Kyoka laughed under her breath, and they kept moving through the store. That was when Momo stopped in front of a photo taped up next to the counter. In it were four girls with instruments, and one of them, with a bass slung over her shoulder and a look of concentration, was unmistakable.

"Jiro-san." Momo leaned toward the photo. "That's you."

Kyoka went stiff mid-step, and without thinking she pressed the two jacks of her earlobes together between her fingers.

"I-It's an old photo."

"You're playing bass on a real stage." Momo turned toward her. "You play in a band? Why did you never mention it?"

"Because it's no big deal." Kyoka shrugged and looked over at one of the amps. "We rehearse when we can and play small venues. There's not much to tell."

"What do you mean? I think it's admirable."

Kyoka looked away.

Momo kept staring at the photograph, sincerely interested.

"I could create a bass if I knew its structure and composition precisely enough," Momo continued, "but that wouldn't mean I knew how to play it. You, on the other hand, can pick one up and make music with it. I think that's something you should be proud of."

Kyoka opened her mouth to answer. She was about to let out a "don't exaggerate" or a "yeah, yeah," anything that would get Momo to drop the subject.

But she wasn't exaggerating.

She didn't even seem to be trying to be nice.

"If you ever play somewhere nearby, I'd like to hear you. As a member of the audience, not as a classmate taking notes." Momo looked at the photo again with a thoughtful calm.

Kyoka stayed quiet for a second. Then she rubbed the back of her neck and sighed, defeated in the best possible way.

"Fine, come here. I'm gonna show you which ones are worth it." She nodded toward the back of the store. "If you're gonna start listening to rock, at least do it right. I'm not gonna let you walk out with some awful record just because you're too shy to say you don't like it."

"I appreciate it, Jiro-san."

Kyoka made a face.

"And stop talking so formal all the time. It gives me goosebumps."

******

Half an hour later, they were sitting at the narrow counter of a ramen stand two streets down from the shop. The bag with the vinyls hung from the back of Momo's chair.

The place was small, loud, and packed with workers making the most of their lunch break. Kyoka had ordered for both of them without even bothering to ask what she wanted.

"This isn't in any guidebook," Momo commented, studying the bowl set in front of her with more solemnity than a plate of cheap noodles deserved. "This... I think this is something new."

Kyoka was already splitting her chopsticks apart.

"That's why it's good. Come on, try it."

Momo took the chopsticks, caught a few noodles, and tried them.

She went quiet for a few seconds.

Then her eyes opened a little wider.

"...It's delicious."

"Right?" Kyoka smiled.

Momo took another bite, this time with less caution.

"Jiro-san... how have I never come here before?"

"Because nobody ever brought you."

"That's incredible." Momo looked at the bowl with genuine surprise. "It's cheap, the portion is pretty generous, and it tastes great too."

Kyoka let out a little laugh.

"Welcome to the real world, Yaoyorozu. It's full of good things that don't show up in guidebooks for rich people."

Momo laughed and kept eating with an enthusiasm that completely contradicted the image of the perfect heiress. Kyoka watched her out of the corner of her eye, satisfied, and for a moment she thought it had been a good idea to invite Momo. She turned out to be easier to deal with than expected, and apparently she took every new thing put in front of her seriously.

"I've made a decision," Momo announced, chopsticks raised and a smudge of sauce at the corner of her lips. "I'm going to come back here. Even if I have to come alone and take notes for a tactical report."

"You might say it with weird words, but... surviving on a tight budget is a martial art, Yaoyorozu."

Momo was about to reply when the entrance chime rang loudly.

A green-haired kid walked into the ramen stand wearing enormous sunglasses, even though it was dark inside. Behind him came two women it was hard not to stare at. One was tall and blonde, with hair down to her waist and a whimsical smile. The other had dark hair tied up in a ponytail and a figure that didn't go unnoticed; in short, voluptuous.

Momo set down her chopsticks.

"...Midoriya-san?"

Izuku didn't answer right away. Instead, he walked over to an empty chair at a nearby table, grabbed it by the back, and dragged it across the floor until he planted it right in front of the two girls. He sat down backward, arms crossed over the backrest, and lowered his sunglasses to look at them over the rim.

"I'm here to talk to you about the Avengers Initiative," he said, in the deepest, most mysterious voice his throat could fake.

For a few seconds, nobody said anything.

Momo blinked.

Kyoka tilted her head slightly.

The whole stand seemed to be waiting for an explanation that would make sense of that sentence.

I'm awesome. Secret agent entrance executed to perfection. Now I just have to sound mysterious and competent and let the aura do the talking and...

WHACK!

The sunglasses flew off Izuku's face, bounced off the counter, and landed in an empty ramen bowl.

"Ow!" Izuku brought both hands to his head. "What was that for?"

Nemuri pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a sigh.

"Izuku, dear. Isn't the program supposed to be SECRET?"

Izuku stayed there with his hands still on his head, looking at her in confusion.

"Midnight-sensei, with all due respect, I don't even know what program you're all talking about."

"The kid's got a point," Yu said between laughs, wiping away a tear with one finger. "You can't scold him for revealing a secret nobody bothered to tell him, Nemuri, so this is your fault once again."

"It's not my fault, it's the principal's fault for handling everything with so much mystery."

Izuku fished his sunglasses out of the bowl with two fingers, looked at them dripping broth, and decided today wasn't his day to look cool.

Momo shot to her feet, the chair scraping loudly behind her, and gave an impeccable bow.

"M-Midnight-sensei! Good afternoon. I'm sorry, we didn't expect to see you here. I hope I'm not breaking any protocol by running into you outside school hours. And you're..." her eyes widened as she recognized the blonde girl. "...Mt. Lady! It's a true honor to meet you."

"Ah! Right, how perceptive of you, Yaoyorozu-san." Izuku straightened up in the chair, setting the wet sunglasses on the table. "I texted you exactly because of this. I need to ask you a huge favor, and when I say huge I want you to take it pretty... um, pretty Mt. Lady sized."

Kyoka, who had followed the whole thing in silence with her chopsticks in hand, narrowed her eyes.

"Why do I get the feeling this is trouble?" Kyoka said.

"Good intuition, Jiro-san," Izuku replied with a smile. "Now, ladies, let's get to the point. Do any of you know a place, a big one, a really really big one, where nobody would mind if a heroine grows to the size of a building and maybe knocks a thing or two over by accident?"

Momo looked at him, then turned toward Yu, who gave her a slightly embarrassed smile back, and finally toward Nemuri, who shrugged to make it clear this was out of her hands now. She lowered her eyes to her bowl of cheap ramen and the bag of vinyls hanging from her chair, thought about the rock shop she'd just discovered, and knew with certainty that her life had gotten far more interesting than her family would ever have approved of.

“As it happens,” she said, setting down her chopsticks with a smile, “my family owns a private island.”

Izuku threw both fists into the air.

"Yaoyorozu-san, you're the best!"

"I haven't said yes yet."

"But you're gonna. I can feel it in my gut."

"Haahhh... you're right, I'm going to say yes," Momo admitted. "But only if you finally explain what this Avengers Initiative you keep talking about actually is."

Izuku was about to answer with all the confidence in the world, but then he realized something important.

"That's the thing," he finally said, deflating again. "I don't have a clue either."

"..."

"..."

"...I see."

---

*****

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