HOW DOES A FANFIC WITH ONLY 4 CHAPTERS GET 100 FAVORITES?! HOLY CRAP...I LOVE YOU ALL FOR IT

Welp, this is the longest chapter I've written for this shipping fic so far, and the fact that the views are doing quite well makes me happy and puts my mind at ease that I'm doing something right. Thank you very much to all of you viewers/followers for your support and posting your reviews. If you wanna see more, drop a review and suggest a scene you might or might not wanna see in this story if you have one.

As always, I own nothing except this here writing. Enjoy. PLUS ULTRA!

Monday. Classes began again. And Jirou was a wreck unbecoming of herself. Careless mistakes in answering questions during class, taking notes with a notebook for a different class, spacing out――the list went on.

"Jiro, is something the matter with you today?" Yaoyorozu asked during lunch.

"What do you mean? I'm doing fine. I'm not sick or anything."

"That isn't what I mean, and you know it. Clearly there is something weighing heavily on your mind to the point that it compromises your performance. Did something happen?" Oh, she had no idea. While Jirou was relieved that Ashido had kept her mouth shut about the incident, she knew that she was in need of a second and even a third opinion just to ease her mind. But who could she talk to about this that would take this calmly and with discretion?

Yaoyorozu, possibly, considering her professionalism but it was highly likely that she hadn't any dating experience or much interaction with Izuku. Asui was another viable option due to her brutal honesty on par with hers, and knows Izuku better than her. Uraraka was most certainly out of the question for obvious reasons, and she wouldn't dare seek out Ashido if her life depended on it. It would probably end up in her assaulting the pink girl with her earphone jacks on pure principle. Maybe one of the guys? Kirishima bound by the morals of manliness, perhaps? Or Todoroki? Or the taciturn Kouda, even? "Jirou? You're spacing out again."

"Huh? Oh, right, sorry. It's uh…..kinda complicated. In more ways than one. I'll figure it out. Being out of tune like this is so…..aggravating."

"We all have our off-days, don't try to beat yourself up about it." Asui said, giving her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. Ashido opened her mouth to interject but soon covered it upon meeting Jirou's death-glare.

"So, Uraraka, we've got combat training after math class this afternoon. You excited?" Hagakure asked after swallowing a bite of her ramen.

"Uh, I guess. It is what I've been training in extensively along with my Quirk….but I'm probably gonna have to wear gloves."

"Right. But it's a shame we can't wear our costumes for it though." Hagakure sighed.

"Of course it'd be a shame for you, Hagakure, all you gotta do is lose the boots and gloves and nobody'd see you coming!" Mina giggled.

"Wha-hey! It's an advantage that I can usually exploit, okay?! And it's a good one! Besides, you're one to talk, Mina. Nobody could touch you without burning themselves with your Quirk!"

Jirou couldn't help but snicker a little at that. Plus she could just imagine some of the guys being absolutely flustered (maybe not Todoroki, at least on the outside) grappling with a girl in her birthday suit. Even if she was invisible.

"What about you, Jirou? You excited to…..test out how you are at hand to hand?"

"Huh? Oh, right. Yeah. Here's hoping it'll amount to something." It hadn't even been a week, but perhaps being smacked around in a ring and field-testing what she learned would do her some good, forcing herself in-tune.

As Jirou suspected, the combat training exercise without Quirks took place in Training Room Theta, with Aizawa proctoring the class. "There are going to be circumstances, particularly for Emitter and Transformation type Quirk holders, where using your Quirk would be ill-advised or will just simply be unavailable. As such, you all need to be able to handle yourself without them should you be required to do so. Proficiently. Remember, Heroes cannot be one-trick ponies." Pressing a button on the wall, a holographic screen appeared in front of the students, with student pairings assigned.

"Whoa, wait, Mr. Aizawa. We're…..we're sparring each other….without using our Quirks?" The diminutive Mineta asked with a raised hand. He had a crazy, drooling smile on his face with a glaze over his eyes.

"Precisely. And if you purposely cause a wardrobe malfunction, you'll be hanging from the flagpole in your boxers until all classes end. Anyways, although you'll have to fight tooth and nail to survive in actual combat, this is a training exercise, so here are some rules: no Quirks unless it's a mutant type, no eye-gouging, biting, groin attacks or breaking bones." He gave a quick glance at Izuku. "Anything else is fair game. Five minutes per round, and you randomly switch partners in thirty seconds until I say. Any questions?"

"Could we, uh, perhaps get a demonstration, sir?" Izuku piped up with a timid hand raised.

Aizawa, who had just pulled out his yellow sleeping bag, sighed slightly but nodded. Unclipping his utility belt and pulling his capturing weapon off his neck along with his signature goggles, he stepped into a circle with his hands raised. "You brought it up, Midoriya. You own up to it."

"Wha-me?!"

"Get in here." His eyes flashed red.

"Yessir!" Izuku hurriedly stepped into the circle as well, fists raised and shifting his weight on the balls of his feet rhythmically. Taking two breaths, he moved forward, lunging out with a one-two followed with another two jabs.

Aizawa simply swatted them out of the way with his palm and stepped in, heel of the palm aiming for Izuku's chin. Ducking down, he dished out another couple of body shots which were blocked with one arm parrying them, the last one smacking his arm away from his torso, leaving his right side completely defenseless.

Now a fist came hurtling towards Izuku's head, but he wasn't done yet. Leaning downwards, he brought the hand that was swatted away down to the mat. Bringing his legs up, knees bent and pressed together, he pushed off with that arm with all his might, launched a double kick aimed for Aizawa's chest, whose eyes widened and lips curved slightly. "Still too slow."

"Oh craaaaAAAAAAP!" Izuku felt Aizawa's arms wrapping around his, swinging him in a circle once before being tossed at his classmates' feet like a pile of laundry. "Ooomf! Oww…."

"I see you took a page out of Broken Sword's style. Adapting and improvising works only with experience. Show's over now, all of you get a move on. And boys, do not pull any punches just because you get paired up with a female classmate. I'll know if you do."

"YES SIR!" Everyone scattered with their respective partners as they began.

"Damn, I really thought that was gonna work…..I mixed in Asui's frog-like two-legged kick with Ashido's breakdance one-hand stand, but he saw through that like glass….I should have recovered and changed my approach, he was taking it easy on me so it definitely was an option…but Mr. Aizawa's the super pragmatist, so would he have let me?" Scratching his head, he went on ranting and muttering to himself again as he looked up at the roster to see who he was paired up with. Mashirao Ojiro.

"Guess we're up first round. You alright?"

"Yeah. I was hoping that would at least graze him."

"This is Mr. Aizawa we're talking about. He'd probably wipe the floor with us without weapons even if everyone in class rushed him."

"Fair enough. You ready?"

"Yup." Being a practitioner of combat-functional karate from a young age and an extra appendage for further application, Izuku was not so keen on facing Ojiro head-on. Shifting his weight from one ball of the foot to the other, he advanced with a jab which was met with a circular sweep away from the body, redirecting the trajectory. Switching to a southpaw feet position, he threw another jab with his right.

Ojiro sidestepped, lashing out with a push kick which Izuku met with left straight that connected with the sole of his foot, pushing him back. Without missing a beat, Izuku grabbed his foot and launched a counterattack: low kicks of his own at the only leg Ojiro had on the ground, once, twice, thrice against his thigh. He rained down elbows on the leg he caught until Ojiro unleashed a roundhouse in midair, forcing him to let go.

Deepening the frown at the pain his leg was in, Ojiro now took the initiative, returning kicks of his own which Izuku dodged and blocked but they were fast. Alarmingly so. Another one came, at middle height which Izuku prepared for with a three point block: palm, forearm and shoulder, only for the blow to knock Izuku in the side of the head. Although it was a moderate graze than a direct hit, it was enough to discombobulate for a short while which was not left unnoticed. With a twist to the right, Ojiro came at him with a left hook.

But rather than dodging or blocking, Izuku met it with his forehead, essentially head-butting Ojiro's fist before his arm was extended. Grabbing that arm, he pulled hard as he stepped in on the outside of it, the right elbow swiping across his jaw, followed up with a spinning elbow strike to the back of his head. "Gotcha." He whispered to himself, jumping through the air with legs bent.

"Not yet." Apparently having heard Izuku, Ojiro rolled backwards as the knee strike intended for him struck nothing but air, exposing his entire back as well. Ojiro leaped forward in an effort to tackle his opponent, only to be met with the soles of Izuku's sneakers. His two feet made solid contact with the tailed boy's chest, blasting him off balance just as the buzzer went off, signaling the end of five minutes. Standing up, Izuku offered a hand to Ojiro, who accepted it graciously. "Nice. You got me."

"I was just desperate and I didn't think that kick would work. Could you show me that last kick you did again by any chance? It was amazing."

"Um, sure, yeah. Some other time?"

"At your convenience would be great, thanks. Let's see now, who's next…? Oh. Oh, boy…..this isn't going to end well." The roster showed Satou's name next to his. He felt like he was about to go wrestle a bear.

"Oof, good luck. I'm….Oh crap, I'm probably screwed as well. I'm up against Bakugou. Any tips you can give as his childhood friend?"

"Hit and run, don't try to KO him if you know you can't. Good luck."

"Alright. Good luck with yours." With a firm handshake, Ojiro left in search of the perpetually irate human grenade.

"Damn, Yaomomo, you're a beast at this." Jirou groaned, tasting iron in her mouth as she stood up. Yaoyorozu was more or less untouchable. Every plan, every attempt at a feint, and most attacks were easily blocked or countered, leaving her with a string of soon-to-be bruises and welts. Not surprising, considering she was sparring with the girl that taught her much of what she knows about practical hand-to-hand combat.

"I have been given proper instruction in self-defense since I could walk properly, but you're no pushover yourself, Jirou. I can still feel those punches to the stomach. Pray tell, where did you pick that up? It resembled Muay Thai, if memory serves."

"Oh, uh….I've been getting some advice on hand to hand actually, and since we have this class, I figured it would be good for a test run."

"Well, it seems to be working fairly well, though you did seem to be compromising form a little at the end."

"It's a work in progress, but thanks for the tip. Who's next for you?"

"Let's see here…..Kaminari, apparently."

"Ah, you'd kick his ass to the wind, don't worry. I have…shit, it's Kouda….I honestly don't wanna fight him."

"Ojiro's up against Bakugou. Would you like to switch with him?" Yaoyorozu giggled jokingly.

"Well, guess I'm punching Kouda then. I'll get him some cabbage and carrots for his bunny later." This honestly wasn't going to be fun, but it couldn't be as bad as having to spar with Mineta like Uraraka was or going toe to toe with Shouji like Asui has to. Besides, Kouda was a genuinely nice guy. Not as talkative, but very compassionate. Much like Midoriya. As soon as that name came to mind, Jirou shook her head and slapped her own cheeks. "Bad Kyoka. Focus, dumbass."

Round six was when Aizawa finally notified everyone that this will be the last round before a short break and moving on to the next part of the class. A tired but genuine hooray was heard from Mineta who had constantly received the short end of the stick, fighting Uraraka, Satou, Todoroki, and Shouji so far, losing every round. Now he had to square off against Bakugou when he was pretty much limping with a black eye and a bloody nose.

Jirou had won three rounds, and the roster made her grit her teeth and shut her eyes tight. Either Aizawa had control of the roster with the remote or the Universe was just being a plain old dick, because she was fighting against the one person she didn't want to: Izuku Midoriya. "Guess we're doing this, huh?"

"Yeah….sorry…." The green haired boy felt the same way as well, with three winning rounds for the day under his belt. "Kinda hoping that this wouldn't happen."

"Not your fault. Promise me you won't hold back?"

"Okay. H-how about uh, I buy you something from a vending machine if you win?"

"Oh, you're going to regret your positive reinforcement, Midoriya." Jirou grinned, her fists tightening slightly. She charged in, rushing in with a flurry of punches.

"Think I already am." Izuku danced around them, moving out of her range while parrying some that were a little too close for comfort. He had to smile in satisfaction though, considering what he taught her in so little time was sticking.

Although Jirou was on the offensive, the previous five more or less consecutive battles had taken a considerable amount of stamina out of her as she felt the familiar dull pain in her neck and shoulders with every punch. Even her low kicks were being blocked with ease, damaging her still unhardened shins in the process. In fact, the more time elapsed, the more her attacks consistently hit air. Izuku continued to wear her out, matching her attack with counters and disrupting her rhythm before backing out of her reach. "Dammit!" She yelled in frustration, yet another wild swing failing to connect with solid flesh. That was when she realized her mistake.

Izuku charged forward with his head down, landing a one-two, a left hook and a rear leg push kick that blasted Jirou off her feet onto her back. She could sit up, but her legs wobbled and gave out in her attempts at getting back into the fight. The last dozens of seconds on the clock ran out as the buzzer sounded off. "Sorry! You okay Jirou?! Di-did I….Did I kick you too hard? Can you breathe? Is your shin alright?"

"Relax, I'm fine."

"But still――"

"And why are you apologizing, you're supposed to hit me, idiot!" She knocked him in the shin with a tired arm. "That's what this class is for. Help me up, though?"

"Yeah. Yeah, s-s-sure. Here." Holding out his hand, he helped Jirou up to her feet, with the other hand poised at shoulder height to catch her in case her legs buckled. Even after standing up, their hands and eyes lingered over each other's bodies glistening with sweat for another twelve seconds seconds, a new wave of heat rising in their faces that were three fists away from each other.

Even if it was just gym clothes, Jirou looked amazing. The redness complemented her porcelain skin well, making her look...sexy. That was the only word Izuku could come up to describe her right now. He hated that his vocabulary couldn't be more refined than the top five words that come out of Mineta's mouth, but there was no other way.

Aizawa calling them all snapped both of them back to reality as they broke eye and physical contact with each other.

Beside Aizawa was Snipe, the gunslinger Pro hero who possessed a Homing Quirk, making him by default one of the best marksmen in the country. "From what I can see, some of you are doing….fairly well. Others are a hair above mediocre at best. And all of you still have long ways to go in terms of perfecting technique. Anyways, now that you've got a glimpse at your advantages and disadvantages as well as your arsenal and its applications depending on your opponent, we'll move on to fighting with weapons."

"Weapons, sir?" Iida asked Aizawa with his hand raised high above his head. "I thought that unless Pro Heroes go through specific courses, examinations and background checks, they are not authorized to carry any kind of weapon or support item even if their Quirk required its use."

"Correct. Again, Iida, it's another means to an end. Some of you saw me using caltrops during the finals. Just so you know, that's not all I use when I'm on duty. The more means, the better off you'll be in the long run. Using a weapon is the best way to know it and therefore counter it, hence these kinds of classes."

"And statistically speaking," Snipe added, "Villains rarely fight fair, Quirk or not. So expecting a hidden weapon like a conceal carry pistol will always help. Make sense?"

"Yes sir! Excuse my impertinence!"

"Midoriya, you're up again." Aizawa motioned. He pointed to a box of bright-colored mock weapons and wooden sticks the size of his forearm. "Take the gun and jam it in Snipe's face. No Quirks."

"Uh…..o-okay…." Izuku tentatively picked up a bright-blue mock pistol and held it up at Snipe's face height, directly at the gasmask he donned. Just as he stepped close enough for the gun to be within arm's reach, his vision spun as the gun was out of his hand and he was on his back again, throbbing slightly. The gun-toting cowboy's movements were too fast to discern what he did.

"Ashido, grab the stick." Quick counter, disarm and takedown. "Kirishima, take the knife." Trap arm, disarm, flip, and arm lock. Snipe's movements were that of a well-oiled machine, making it clear he had done this over thousands of times for a course of years against opponents with real weapons.

"Whoooaaaa…..that was sick." Kaminari whispered under his breath.

"I just showed you one example of disarming and takedowns for each weapon, but there are many other variations. I almost got myself killed barely two years after my debut as a pro when I ran out of ammo, but mundane techniques like these is what saved my life. Just so you know, Eraser Head is better than me at this, given his Quirk." He chuckled.

"This is how you survive yielding maximum results with minimal effort. Pair up, grab one of each and do some disarming drills. We'll give you hints along the way."

As always, everyone was exhausted once classes were over, dragging their habitually sore bodies back to the dormitories. Jiro was one of them as well, who was forced to admit that she needed far, far more stamina in order to contend with opponents with Quirks that enhance physical capabilities. She'd have to discuss bulk up on calisthenics, running; the works. With Midoriya. Then she remembered her heart throb rather quickly when he helped her up.

Holding hands, staring into each other's eyes. All they needed was a beach and a sunset and it would be the textbook motherfucking definition of a rom-com climax scene. It was so fucking cliché that the word "embarrassing" doesn't even begin to describe the amount of anger and self-loathing that was bubbling in her chest at the moment.

"What the hell is wrong with me? Get a grip, bitch! Ugh…." Tell him the truth, her mother said. But how? She wasn't exactly an eloquent speaker like Present Mic or the headmaster Nedzu, for that matter. Besides, it wasn't her place to get in his way to becoming a hero. So how could she possibly think of a delicate way to put how she feels about him without making Midoriya potentially suffer a heart attack from having this sprung on him? Or worse…..shutting himself away from her?

"Jiroouuuu? Helloooooo?" A webbed hand waved in front of her eyes.

"Huh?! Oh, right, sorry….um, what were we talking about again?"

"The whole disarming seminar and everyone's comments. Ribbit."

"Oh. Right, yeah. Sorry. It was uh….informative, and it's definitely going to come in handy if, you know, you get mugged or something. Using our Quirks still is illegal, after all."

"No, I get, that." Ashido grumbled, stretching out her shoulders after a merciless beat-down that Todoroki dished out. "But who in this day and age would use guns and knives when there are support items? And Quirks?"

"You all remember I talked a little about my intern with Selkie, right?"

"Yeah, stowaways and stolen cargo along with drugs, right?" That was more action than any of the classmates of 1-A got, aside from the Hero Killer Incident.

"That wasn't all, actually. There was a small crate of firearms. You didn't hear that from me though. But what I'm trying to say is, Quirks don't make you immune to bullets. At least not all of them. Not completely."

"Plus we do have the Yakuza to consider." Yaoyorozu added quietly. "The Eight Precepts of Death may be no more, but they aren't the only criminal organization that isn't the League Of Villains that would arm themselves with more than just Quirks. I trust it most certainly will come in handy at some point."

"Let's hope we won't have to. Guns are scary….even though I did disarming drills with Gunhead…." Uraraka said with a worried look.

"Oh, stop worrying so much, Uraraka." Ashido's hand gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "You'll be fine when push comes to shove. Speaking of which, Jirou, I never knew you could fight with a stick like that! Where'd you learn it?"

"Yes, I do remember you asking me to make a sword at USJ. While I am more partial to a weapon with a longer reach myself, I must admit I was impressed at how you handled yourself."

"Oh, that…I just…I have good hand-eye coordination, I guess. Plus I do drums, so….bashing things in with style comes naturally, maybe?"

"Perhaps you could give us some pointers some time?"

"Sounds good to me, but just know that it'll be a half-blind novice leading more half-blind novices."

"We all have to start somewhere, Jirou."

"I guess." Jirou suddenly stopped.

"What's the matter?" Yaoyorozu asked.

An epiphany had just come about. Two, in fact. One was a possible plan of action to tell the truth, the other was the chorus for her lyrics. "Sorry, I just…I remembered something important that I have to write down right fucking now, but the notepad for it is in my room and I need to get to it. Catch you back at the dorm!" She'd already crossed the line with that kiss. She might as well step across it entirely before she lost her nerve and also finish that damn ballad. After all, Jirou low key hated losing.

Awrighty, smut is coming up next! Stay tuned!

Also, there is a reason why I put the No-Quirk combat training in this chapter, I plan on making it relevant in future chapters.