Chapter 12

As soon as classes let out Wednesday, May 2nd, a girl jogged out of a Support course classroom. A few of her classmates blinked, her jog was faster than they could run. She was quicker than they had thought she was.

Of course, they didn't know she was much more physically fit than she had been last week.

She quickly crossed the building, and went up to the top floor. She slowed down, and knocked on a heavy door. A moment later, it opened.

"Good afternoon, Principal Nezu," Melissa greeted him. Since she was there on UA business, rather than Ranger business, she reverted to Japanese and a formal tone at that.

"I wanted to talk to you," she told him.

"Good, come in," he said, "I've actually been expecting you. I know why you are here."

They walked inside.

"Please, have a seat," he invited her, as he returned to her desk. Shield took one of the simple chairs opposite him. She slipped her right hand into her uniform blazer's pocket.

"So," the bear-mouse closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, "I understand that now that you have your Ranger powers, you want to move into the Hero course. However, it would be a problem for both of us, if I were to do that without a reasonable justification. People would ask questions. Instead, I recommend you keep up your practice with Midoriya-kun for the next two-ish months. If you can win the Sports Festival, defeat all of the second year Hero Course students, then no-one will be able to argue with you moving to the Hero Course."

He opened his eyes and looked at her. She was looking at him in confusion. She was holding out a USB YY mini-drive to him.

"I don't think we're on the same page, Sensei," she told him softly, "I have no intention of moving to the Hero Course."

"You don't?" he frowned.

"I don't," she confirmed. When she saw his shock, she explained, "I do tend to pursue my Hero License. Eventually. But there are issues with doing it now. If I suddenly show off Ranger powers so quickly after Izuku, it will be suspicious. If I wait, I can claim I have studied Izuku's powers and was able to reproduce them. Which is true, but not in the way people will think I mean. Or maybe I'll be like All Might. Echo Pink will be a Hero with a secret identity, while Mido... Shield Melissa is just a moderately well known support item maker."

She shrugged, "Because ultimately, I do still want to, plan to, be a support item maker. I'll make gear for myself and Izuku. Try to find ways to make Ranger tech usable by everyone. I can help more people that way. Help people I'll never meet, and after I'm gone."

Nezu nodded.

"Maybe I'll have Izuku help me get my Provisional License while I'm in college," she said, "Or maybe I'll do it next year... next calendar year, after I'm more used to my powers. But for now, like you said, I'm going to work on my training, both kinds, without pushing myself. If I win the Sports Festival, that's fine. But I'm not going to make it a priority over everything else I have going on."

"That makes sense," Nezu agreed. Then he frowned and looked at her hand. She had withdrawn it while she spoke, and was still holding the drive.

"In that case, why are you here, Shield-san?" he matched her tone as he switched topics.

She set the drive down. Slid it over to him. Inclined her head.

Nezu plugged the drive into his second computer. The one that was not on UA's network. For multiple reasons. A moment later a series of files opened automatically on the screen. Files he recognized.

"Ah," his smile returned, "You are here for the grade bounty."

"I'll take it," Melissa said grimly, "But no. Type my name and Izuku's birth date, in proper date format. Dashes, not spaces."

Nezu complied. The original files closed. And a new set open. The mouse-dog's black eyes widened in surprise and worry.

"These... these are the real student and teacher registry and schedules," he gasped.

"I'm not even the best hacker in my class," she nodded, "I'm just the first one that figured out what Maijima-sensei was implying."

Nezu considered that for a moment, and then the teen started again.

"That's what I am here to talk to you about," Melissa said, "I somewhat understand inviting the Support class to hack the system. But hiding the real files behind a second system with nominally the same type of security... I'm not comfortable with my, Izuku's, or especially All Might's information being there."

"It hasn't been an issue before," the principal argued defensively.

"Maybe not," she said, "but all it takes is one time. Some of my classmates can be... absentminded. There could be someone whose family suddenly needs money. Et cetera. It might not even be nefarious."

Nezu considered it, "I don't like to suspect my students. Especially given the review process before we acceptance anyone. But you might been right. And I can see how your unique circumstances could make you more sensitive to this. But let me turn this back on you, Shield-san. Do you have any suggestions for improving our network security?"

She took out a second drive.

"This is so cool," Melissa laughed. Sweat poured down her body and dripped off her nose. Izuku watched in a combination of pride and attraction as she pushed herself straight up.

"30," she counted then lowered herself back down.

"Last week I barely do... could do a single handstand push-up," she said, "And now... now I'm going to stop. But 30 is good."

She rolled out of her handstand and up to her feet like an expert gymnast.

"50," Izuku finished. He also switched from his hands to his feet, though much less gracefully than his girlfriend. He was closer to the table, so he grabbed the towel and tossed it to Melissa. She caught it and wiped down her face.

"Still not as good as you," she noted that after almost double the vertical lifts, he was sweating a lot less.

"I've had my Morpher a lot longer than you," Izuku countered, "And I wouldn't have been able to do one handstand push-up six days after getting my Morpher. Or Morph the same day."

"I have been doing my best to keep up with your routine," she reminded him, "And you've taught me a lot."

"You've both helped each other and come a long way," Tommy interjected, "What are you going to do next?"

"Hmmm," Izuku mused, "Will you please activate training program T-5, Dr. O?"

"Program complete," Tommy told them a moment later with a hint of a smirk, "You may enter when ready."

The teens entered the training room. It looked like they had stepped outside. Before them spread out a grassy field. It was bright and warm, with just a hint of a breeze.

The field was not completely empty. There was a table in front of them. On the table lay a gun and a bow, exact recreations of the Dragon Blaster and Ptero-Bow. In addition, 100 meters out, there were four vaguely humanoid targets.

The two Rangers-in-training picked up their respective weapons.

"Why don't we do level six, instead?" Melissa asked, strumming the string on the bow, "Level five isn't really a challenge for you. And I'll get better faster at the higher difficulties."

"Maybe," Izuku said, "But you yourself said you have only shot a little, for fun. You can't expect to be a combat archer in a week. You said level 5 isn't a challenge for me, but it's still tougher than the improvised shooting ranges we set up at Dagobah. And it's not like I've ever gotten a perfect score on this course."

"Let's just try it." the blonde urged

"Melissa, is something wrong?" he asked.

"Not really," she said, "I'm a little annoyed with how laid back Nezu is about the issues with the UA network's security. I went to him Wednesday, so he would have Golden Week holidays to start to implement things. But he spent most of Thursday and Friday here, and didn't even mention it."

Then she looked at her watch and added, "And I get this feeling that I need to catch up to you sooner rather than later."

"Well, I guess a lot of people do target shooting to let off steam," Izuku looked at her. Something in his expression said there was more he wanted to say. But instead, Izuku requested, "Can we move up to level six, Dr. O?"

"Okay."

The sun vanished. Clouds rolled in, covering the virtual sky. Then it started to rain. Not a torrential downpour. Just enough to make their hands slick and lightly obscure their vision. The targets also moved from 100 meters to only 80 meters away.

Izuku inclined his head towards Melissa.

"Begin round one." she ordered.

The dummies started moving. Instead of a sedate 1.5 meters per second and a simple oval path, the targets were moving at 2.5 meters per second in a mobius pattern.

They each had twenty shots, but only fifteen seconds.

Melissa drew the bow, and an energy arrow appeared. Izuku raised the pistol and sighted between the twin daggers.

"Three, two, one," Tommy's voice counted down, "Go!"

After five rounds shooting practice and a subtle but noticeable improvement by both teens, they returned to the main room.

They sat down on the floor, cross-legged. Their knees touched. They struggled not to stare at each other, in their tight and brief workout clothing. Not because they did not want to look, and did not want the other to look. But because they needed to focus.

"It's Morphin' time. Echo Ranger One, Mode Black!"
"It's Morphin' time. Echo Ranger Two, Mode Blue!"

Now completely covered, they were just as attracted to each other, if for slightly different reasons. They grasped hands, intertwining their fingers. They started to circulate their energy. Each from their right hand into their partners' left. Spread it through their bodies. Exercising a virtual, superhuman muscle.

The young couple felt it was more than that. It might have been their imaginations. On the other hand, they also knew that magic was real. Both Melissa and Izuku believed there was more than just the power of the Morphin' Grid flowing between them, through them. Affection, attraction, desire. But also hope, kindness, support, and faith. Each wanted the other to grow stronger, both as a partner in power and as a partner in love.

The more experienced Izuku regulated the flow, so Melissa would not get tired too fast, or get overwhelmed. Melissa followed his rhythm, trusting and appreciating him. Their chests rose and fell in unison. Their heartbeats matched, to the point their almost felt like blood was transfusing through their palms along side the Grid Energy.

After giving them a few minutes to help grow and stabilize their connections, Tommy cranked the Command Center's speakers up to the highest volume. It was time to test their concentration.

"BABY SHARK, DOO DOO DOO DOO DOO-DOO! BABY SHARK..."

Monday, May 7th was warm and rainy. The majority of UA's students raced to get to school, before the weather worsened.

"Alright, settle down," Aizawa told his class on instinct. Except they were all already seated and quietly listening.

"Right," he shook his head, "So I have a task for you today. You have to pick out your class representatives."

He held up his hand when the teens started to mumble.

"I don't care who you pick," he said, "UA doesn't prescribe a method, and I don't care how you do it either. Just have a representative and vice-representative before the end of homeroom, and don't wake me up."

With that, he returned to his sleeping bag in the corner and was almost instantly out cold.

"How should we decide this?" Momo mused, "A contest?"

"Oh, like arm wrestling?" Kirishima interjected, forcefully yet softly. He had learned the hard way not to wake up their teacher.

"Maybe something more equitable?" Jirou countered sarcastically, "Otherwise we might as well just decide by height or weight."

"Ooo," Hagakure called out, "Online test, 'Which American President are you?'. Whoever gets the best one, wins."

They all turned to stare at her in confusion, amusement, or annoyance . As much as they could glare at someone invisible.

"It should be a vote," Iida insisted, "We live in a democratic society, and it is the most fair way."

"Won't everyone just vote for themselves, kero?" Asui asked.

"Maybe not," Izuku mused, "Yes, being on the student council looks good on your resume. And you get to interact with our senpais and Pro Hero teachers. But you also are giving up two hours after school three days a week. At a minimum. During festivals and other events, it can be three or four hours, every day. Maybe some people don't want to give up that much."

Then he paused, and shrugged, "Or maybe some people will honestly think someone else would do a better job?"

"What was I thinking?" Izuku complained to his girlfriend. It had become their habit to meet up for lunch. And ignore anyone who stared at them. Only today the stares were worse. Because a third person had joined them. Yaoyorozu Momo had sat down in one of the two unclaimed chairs at the smaller, more private table.

This set the rumor factions roiling. The group who thought Melissa and Izuku were dating (either because they were a cute couple who spent a lot of time together or because they wanted Shield off the market) were confused and upset at the apparent interloper. The second largest faction, the ones who thought there was no way the two were dating (mostly because they wanted Melissa or Izuku themselves), took this as a sign they were right, the blonde and the greenette were just friends.

Of course many of the students didn't know or care, focused more on their own lives and classwork. Plus there was that odd little faction of one and a half students that assumed this meant both girls were with Izuku and hated him all the more for it.

Now, Melissa might have objected to Momo joining them without asking, were it not for the facts that Shield's boyfriend was oddly distraught and focused completely on blonde.

"I might as well have said, 'Hey, this isn't going to be easy, why don't you foist it all on me'. Well, me and Yaoyorozu-san," the young man continued, vaguely gesturing at his classmate.

"Izuku, what are you talking about?" Melissa asked gently.

"Class reps," he explained, "Aizawa-sensei had us pick class reps today. And I reminded everyone that it was going to take a good sized chunk of their free time. So of course they decided to vote."

"And you won?" Melissa prompted.

"Midoriya-kun received eight votes," Yaoyorozu supplied, "I received four, Iida-kun received two, and six other students likely voted for themselves, because they got one each."

"Was Bakugou one of those?" Shield asked derisively.

"Yes," Izuku confirmed.

"Figures," she rolled her eyes.

"But Midoriya-san, that means that seven other students think you can do the job," Yaoyorozu tried to reassure him.

"Eight," he countered.

"You didn't vote for yourself?" the black-haired girl seemed surprised.

"Of course he didn't," Melissa said, fondly amused.

"I actually voted for you," Izuku told his classmate, "It was you or Iida-kun, and I was worried he would be too uptight."

Both young women nodded, Yaoyorozu from knowing the speedster and Shield based on what Izuku had told her about class 1-A.

"Wait, this is great," a metaphorical light-bulb went off above Melissa's head. Though had she been in 2-H it might have been a literal light-bulb.

"Great that we have less time together?" Izuku frowned.

"No, the opposite," the blonde quickly reassured him, "No-one if 2-G wants to be the class rep. Heck, I don't think anyone in any of the Support classes want to do it. Most would rather spend their time in the lab. And we haven't done elections yet. So if I volunteer..."

"You'll almost certainly get picked," Izuku brightened.

"And then we can spend all that time together," she smiled happily at him.

"Melissa, that's brilliant," he grabbed her hand.

Through-out the cafeteria, a number of yen bills changed hands.

"And I can get to know you better, too, Yaoyorozu-san," Melissa added. Despite the tiny shard of jealousy, Shield knew the other girl had done nothing wrong (besides having a questionable taste in costumes). She seemed nice enough and Melissa was always open to having more friends.

"I would like that," Yaoyorozu smiled softly.

"Majima-sensei."

In fifth period, Power Loader returned to 2-G for their mechanical engineering lesson. But before he could start class, Melissa called out to him.

"Yes, Shield-san?"

"I was talking to some other students today, and they just did their class rep election," she said. And two of her classmates groaned.

"I was wondering when we were going to do ours?" she continued.

"Normally the second and third year Support courses don't bother," he said, "Unless the class changes, we just keep the same representatives."

"But class did change," she reminded him, "I joined after the elections were held last year."

"Not so much an election," Sanji with no eyebrows remembered, "We built ro-sham-bo robots. And the losers got the job."

"Are you saying you want to be the class rep, Shield-san?" the Pro Hero asked in confusion.

"Or the vice rep," she agreed, "I'm not picky."

"Done, she can have it," a girl with short brown hair called out.

"No," a boy with orange hair argued, "I out rank you! She'll take my spot."

"First come first serve!" the girl shot back, "And you lost last year anyway."

"Let's settle down," Majima-sensei raised his hands, "This isn't the time..."

"If Shield-san wants to be representative, I could take vice rep," her admirer offered.

"Sold!" the now freed previous bureaucrats shouted in unison.

Melissa grimaced slightly, but consoled herself, 'Maybe if I can show off Izuku enough, Sanji will finally get the message.'

"You! I'd like to talk to you?"

"Me?" Melissa countered, confused.

Tuesday morning, the entrance to UA was blocked off by a crowd of people, carrying everything from normal phones to professional quality video cameras and boom mics. Many emblazoned with local network or major new outlet insignia.

"Yes," the handsome twenty-something dragged his cameraman around to film her, "Can you tell us, in your own words, what it is like to have All Might as a teacher? How does the number one Hero measure up in the classroom?"

"Sorry," she smiled politely, "I'm not in the Hero course."

"Really?" the cameraman interjected, "If you aren't going to be a Hero, you should try modeling instead. You'd get paid better and be more famous than all but the top Heroes..."

Izuku stepped in front of Melissa, mostly blocking her from the camera and glaring at the operator. So the reporter turned his attention to the boy.

"Are you in the Hero course, then?" he asked Izuku.

"Ye... yes?" Izuku immediately faltered as the attention switched to him.

"Great," the man continued, "Then can you give us your take on All Might as a teacher?"

"I really shouldn't," Izuku said, "UA frowns on that."

"Don't worry," the reporter waved it off, "We can mask your face and voice."

"not like anyone would want to see that anyway," the cameraman said softly. That earned him a dangerous stare from Melissa.

"EYES ON MEEEEEEE!" an ear splitting yet familiar roar shook the crowd. Everyone turned to look at Present Mic. Only to see Nezu standing on the pro Hero's shoulder. Izuku wasn't sure how well others could read the mouse-dog. But after observing the principal working with Melissa on the Echo Pink Coin, both teens could tell their tiny ally was dangerously angry.

"Good morning," Nezu addressed the press brittlely, "I have heard enough to know why you are all here. And we will be able to address that later. This afternoon. But in the mean time, you are preventing my students from getting to class, and generally harassing them. And you know UA's take on unauthorized and unsupervised interviews of students. If I see any of you talking to any of my students after this, or if any of the recordings you have already made are released, I will revoke the UA press credentials of anyone involved. Not just those of you here, but for whatever organization you work for. That means you will not access to any of the UA festivals, press conferences, or graduations. For lets say five years."

Then his smiled narrowed and he added, "Per student."

The crowd of the press either went red with rage or white with fear. Getting their own access cut off was one thing. Losing it for their coworkers and bosses would lose them their job and make them unemployable.

Mics and cameras dropped, and the horde parted like the Red Sea. The students hurried inside.

"Wait," a young woman with four, elvish ears realized, "Even if the students are off limits, the rest of the staff aren't!"

Dozens of hungry gazes fell on Present Mic and Nezu.

"What was that?" Aoyama asked his classmates as he stumbled into the room, "All those people, all those cameras. Is there some event Moi did not hear about?"

"I guess you weren't there when principal Nezu laid down the law?" Kirishima prompted the French boy.

"Non?" Yuga's confusion deepened.

"Someone leaked to the press that All Might was teaching here," Hagakure explained in a questioning tone, "So I guess they all wanted to try to get the scoop."

"Then Nezu-sensei and Mic-sensei swooped in like killer eagles," Tokoyami declared grandly, "And broke the spirit of the press."

"Tried to is more like it," Bakugou barked a laugh, "The paparazzi turned on them instead."

"Which is part of their job," Aizawa dragged himself into the room, looking more tired than usual, "And I shouldn't need to remind you, however based what I saw out there, I do need to remind you. None of you are to talk to the press unless it is in a capacity authorized by UA, with a teacher present. If they try anything, tell them to buzz off. You'll have classes about dealing with the press in second and third year, but even then you aren't allowed to interact with them freely. Violate this rule, and UA will punish you. And I may decide to kick you out of my class. Got it."

They almost all nodded quickly and heavily. Todoroki just considered it, unimpressed. And Bakugou snorted smugly.

Yaoyorozu sat with Izuku and Melissa for lunch again. Unlike the previous day, they were joined by a fourth student.

"Izuku, Yaoyorozu-san, this is Motoro Sanji," Melissa said, "My classmate in 2-G and as of yesterday my vice-representative for our class. Sanji, this is Midoriya Izuku, my boyfriend and Class 1-A's representative and his vice-rep, Yaoyorozu Momo."

Momo blinked in shock at Melissa's open admission. She was nearly certain that Midoriya and Shield were together, but the couple had been noncommittal on the subject. Despite that, she didn't miss Motoro-san's pained flinch at the declaration, and realized why Shield made the open claim.

"I take it that means you were successful in becoming 2-G's representative, Shield-san?" Momo asked, to be sure.

"Yes," Melissa looked amused, "When I said I was interested, the previous rep and vice-rep almost got into a fight over who would get to resign and have me take over. And please, call me Melissa. Shield-san is my father, and as an American I'm more comfortable going by my given name. Plus, some my classmates have told me that my given name is easier to say."

"Only if you call me Momo," the younger girl countered, eager to cement the friendship Shield had proposed the previous day.

"Sure, Momo-chan."

"Can I ask, Melissa-san," Momo started carefully, "Given your family name is 'Shield', are you related to Shield David? The famous support item maker and friend of All Might-sensei."

"I am," Melissa offered simply. Then she decided, for the sake of friendship, to add, "I'm his daughter."

"Wait," Sanji complained, "You are the daughter of the David Shield? Why haven't you told anyone?"

"I am the daughter of a David Shield," Melissa said spritely, "There is more than one person with that name. And why did I tell anyone? Well I did tell Izuku. And no-one else asked."

Then her voice sharpened, "Besides, part of the reason I transferred to UA was to be myself, not my somewhat famous father's daughter. On I Island, that was all most people cared about."

Izuku reached over and lightly squeezed her hand. Melissa gave him a sad smile.

"Sorry," Motoro said. Partly out of genuine regret and partly because he thought it would lessen any damage he had just done to their relationship.

"It's..."

Whatever Melissa's response would have been, it was cut off by a shrill alarm. A heartbeat later, the cafeteria was thrown into a panic. Students jumped out of the seats and streamed to the exits like a Human mudslide. The frightened clamor was punctuated by shouts of pain as frail teenage bodies were slammed into much tougher and heavier furniture and walls.

Izuku and Melissa also stood. But silently and sternly. Their lack of panic help Momo and Sanji keep it together. They let themselves get swept into the flow, but moved much more methodically. They helped those who stumbled. Momo knew Izuku was strong and tough, but she hadn't expected the same of Melissa. And Sanji was amazed how the tide of Humanity split and slowed around them, unable to force the couple.

Things grew worse once they exited into the hallway. The narrow space crushed the students, and made it harder for anyone who stumbled to recover.

"Momo, can you make me a bullhorn?" Izuku asked, "Or even just an old fashion megaphone?"

His expression was harder than the black-haired girl had seen before. And Melissa wore a proud and excited little smile.

Yaoyorozu was able to make the electronic amplifier, and handed it to him. He gestured to them. Melissa plugged her ears. And Momo and Sanji hastily followed suit.

"SETTLE DOWN!" Izuku shouted. His enhanced lungs produced enough sound that Melissa doubted he needed the bullhorn. With it, he would have done Present Mic proud.

The crowd stopped, as much from aural pain as from any desire to comply.

"We are UA students," Izuku continued, "Do you honestly think you will be able to handle Villains if a simple alarm has you stampeding like cattle? There are no explosions, no sounds of battle. I don't see any smoke or feel any heat. For all we know this is a test, a test we are failing."

Any remaining fear crumbled under his logic and their shame.

"Now, as you should all know," he continued, lowering the volume slightly, "In the event of this alarm, we are to return to our classrooms in a calm and orderly fashion, and await further instructions from our teachers or other members of the UA staff. So help anyone who was knocked down up, form lines, and return to class."

Izuku noticed not all of his own classmates were present. He wondered if they had skipped eating to study, as he had frequently done at Aldera. Before Tommy's workout routine meant Izuku couldn't afford to lose the nutrients and calories. And more importantly now, Izuku had someone he wanted to spend that time with.

Or maybe his classmates were just in the bathroom.

"It's the press," Asui-san called out. She had hopped up and clung to the wall to make more space and for her own safety. That gave her a unique angle to look out the windows.

"What?" a random voice in the crowd demand.

"Something happened at the gate, and the press is streaming in," she said again, more loudly.

"Principal Nezu promised them an interview this afternoon," Melissa remembered, "They must have gotten impatient now that is it literally past noon."

That suitably cowed the throng, most of them embarrassed to have panicked over some reporters. Following Izuku's advice, they began to shuffle quickly back to class. More than a few of them wiggling their jaws to try to clear the pain and pressure in their ears.

"And you thought you couldn't handle being a class rep," Melissa teased her boyfriend cheekily. Then she leaned in close and whispered in his ear, "That was really hot, Izuku."

His composure shattered and he turned beet red.

"Aoyama-kun, hold on for a minute," Aizawa instructed. The final bell had signaled the end of the odd day. Their lackadaisical teacher calling out one of them would have normally been the most noteworthy event. Today it was a distant third.

"Oui, sensei," the blonde boy paused with a look of surprise.

A few of the students made to pause. But Eraserhead waved them out. When the pair were alone, the tired Hero made sure the doors were closed.

"Why did you want to see me, sensei?" the boy asked, "Is it about my classwork?"

"No," Aizawa said flatly. He studied the teen, and then finally said, "I want to know why you snuck into the teacher's bullpen. At lunch. While the destruction of the gate and the press stampede had everyone distracted. And I would also like to know what you intend to do with the thumb drive in your pocket."

Aoyama started to reach for his belt. As soon as he moved, Aizawa's hair stood on end. And the constant pressure on the young man's gut vanished.

Aoyama slowly raised his hands into the air.