—. My Hero Academia 180 degrees.—
46. Where Uraraka daydreams about Deku, Mirio reunites with Sir Nighteye, and Deku and Bakugo wake up in the middle of the night.
(*Segment marked with * for suggestive IzuxOcha content.)
( * )
Uraraka looked content, sitting with a calm smile in front of the small table in her room. The fan, positioned right in front of her, made her bangs sway slightly with the breeze, bringing a refreshing sensation after a long day of training. On the table, she had set a teapot with green tea and a small plate of mochi—like a well-earned reward she was giving herself for her effort.
She crossed her legs naturally and picked up a mochi, taking the first bite. The sweet strawberry filling blended with the soft dough, making her close her eyes in delight. When she took a sip of the hot tea, she felt her entire body relax completely, resting her cheek on her hand with satisfaction.
Everything felt so nice, and yet, as soon as she let her guard down, her mind started wandering back to what had happened during that afternoon's training session. Her body tensed up slightly again, and she felt a sudden warmth in her cheeks.
A specific memory surfaced in her mind.
It had been a team training exercise. She and Deku had hidden together behind the corner of a hallway, holding their breath, until he suddenly shouted,
"Watch out!"
Before she could react, Deku had pushed her to the ground to shield her from one of Bakugo's explosions, which tore through the wall. At that moment, all she had thought about was the danger, reacting as quickly as possible so she wouldn't be a burden. But now… now she remembered the details.
Izuku's determined expression, his green eyes scanning the scene for Bakugo through the smoke. His hands planted firmly on either side of her shoulders, protecting her. The quickened pace of his breathing and the tension in his muscles.
Uraraka, lost in thought, absentmindedly bit into another piece of mochi. For some reason, the flavor seemed even better than before—sweeter, more intense. It was as if her mouth was already infused with a lingering sweetness that heightened her senses.
She set the cup down on the table and, with the bed right behind her, allowed herself to lean back for a moment. She stared at the white ceiling of her room as the constant hum of the fan filled the silence with white noise. A new blush colored her cheeks as she closed her eyes, and in her mind, the image of Deku above her resurfaced.
Almost unconsciously, she relaxed her legs, parting her knees slightly, and imagined the scene again. Deku was there, his arms braced on either side of her shoulders, leaning over her with that same intense gaze he had when facing Bakugo.
Her foot stretched out without her realizing, accidentally bumping the tea table.
The sound pulled her slightly out of her fantasy, but for some reason, when she moved her foot again and felt the table wobble slightly, the sound was… peculiar. Intriguing. Almost tempting.
She closed her eyes again.
It wasn't hard to bring the image of Deku hovering over her back into focus. The faint wobble of the table became a subtle echo, accompanying her imagination. Her foot kept nudging it, creating that sound that pulled her deeper into the fantasy. She parted her legs a little more, shivering as she imagined Deku lowering his face to her neck, his damp lips brushing her skin with delicate softness.
"Deku…" she murmured without realizing it.
The sound of the table stopped.
The risk of spilling the hot tea made her stop, but she had already achieved what she wanted—the noise had been enough to fuel her imagination.
Her hand trailed slowly down her own waist, letting her skin feel the faint touch as if they were Deku's fingers. But just as she was about to let herself get completely lost in the sensation, a soft knock on the door made her freeze.
"Uraraka? Are you there? Can I come in?" Jiro's voice called from outside.
Uraraka immediately sat up, crossing her legs on the floor in front of the table, pretending nothing unusual had been happening. The fan cooled her flushed face, and she let out a small sigh before responding.
"Of course! Come in."
When Jiro entered, Uraraka noticed that besides carrying her guitar on her back, she was holding a small cardboard box in her hands. She approached the tea table and held it out to her.
"Huh? Is this for me?" Uraraka asked, taking the package without fully understanding. "But why?"
Jiro averted her gaze with a slight hint of awkwardness. After placing her guitar in its usual spot, she hesitated before turning back to face her.
"Consider it a peace offering… an apology," she said, her tone softer than usual. "I've been thinking about it, and… I shouldn't have kicked you out of the room the other night. And I shouldn't have said those things to you either. I think everyone has their own pace in a relationship, and it's not fair to rush things just because someone else says so."
Uraraka blinked, surprised by Jiro's words. She had the feeling that what Jiro was saying wasn't just about her relationship with Deku. For a moment, she remembered the way Kaminari had looked at Jiro when she had performed with her band at that mansion, and then the more recent moments when the two of them seemed to argue… but also how they seemed to get along quite well when he made her laugh. Their relationship was completely different from hers with Deku, but somehow, it made her smile.
"Alright, I'll accept it. But on one condition," Uraraka said.
"Huh?" Jiro looked at her, curious, as she sat down beside her.
"You have to help me eat it. I won't be able to finish it alone."
"But it's just a small individual cake."
"That doesn't matter. If I'm not careful, it'll start to show when I wear my hero suit, and that would be really embarrassing."
Jiro smiled, realizing that Uraraka was trying to smooth things over in a lighthearted way. She leaned her elbows on the table and, without meaning to, noticed something.
"It wobbles…" she said, nudging the table slightly with her hand. "I think it's this leg on this side. Maybe we could put a folded piece of paper under it—"
"No, no, no!" Uraraka quickly raised her arms in front of her to stop Jiro from getting up. "That's not necessary! I like it this way!"
Jiro raised an eyebrow at her.
"You like that it wobbles?"
Uraraka blushed but said nothing.
"You know you're kind of weird, right?"
The flush on Uraraka's cheeks deepened for a moment before she suddenly burst into laughter. Jiro watched her for a second, then smiled and laughed as well.
The two girls shared another laugh as Uraraka pulled the small cake out of the box.
...
Principal's Office
Aizawa carefully examined the papers Mirio had handed him. His sharp, tired eyes scanned each line with scrutiny. He separated a few sheets, let out a long sigh, and finally looked up at the young hero with an expression of disbelief.
"Togata… I really appreciate you helping out with Classes 1-A and 1-B this morning, but… this is unacceptable." He shook the papers slightly before extending them toward Mirio. "How could you think these were good hero names and, worse, approve them?"
Mirio eagerly took the papers, his eyes shining with amusement as he looked them over.
"What's wrong with them? They're pretty fun!" he exclaimed with a bright smile. "Just imagine it, Mr. Aizawa—people hear these names, laugh, and immediately feel at ease knowing someone with a good sense of humor is coming to rescue them! That's part of being a hero too—reassuring civilians! A society without joy and humor won't have a bright future. Sorry, that's my big motto."
Aizawa pinched the bridge of his nose in resignation before looking at him with exhaustion.
"Tell me, Togata… how do you think a child trapped in a construction site would feel knowing that 'Useless Hero,' 'Alien Queen,' and 'Great Explosion Murder' are coming to save him?"
For a moment, Mirio pondered. In his mind, he pictured Ashido, with her pink skin and twisted horns, sticking out her tongue like an alien, Bakugo with his frantic and menacing expression, and Midoriya, looking nervous like a frightened rabbit, hiding behind them.
"I think I'm starting to see the problem…" he finally admitted, scratching the back of his head.
"Good." Aizawa took a pen and crossed out part of the names in the documents. "We'll let Ashido and Bakugo use the shorter names they chose—Pinky and Dynamight—but make sure Izuku Midoriya picks another one."
Mirio casually crossed his arms behind his back.
"I can talk to him, but honestly, I think it'll be impossible to change his mind." He leaned over the sheet with the name in question and observed it with a smile, remembering the moment Midoriya had proudly held up the board with his hero name. "It seemed like he had a deep reason for choosing Deku. Unlike the other two, it felt more meaningful than funny."
Aizawa remained silent for a moment. He recalled Midoriya grabbing his hand with the capture tape during the entrance exam, his determination etched into every word and every gesture. In the end, he decided against handing the form to Mirio and instead placed it atop a stack of pending documents on his desk.
"I know… he can be very stubborn. But I'll try talking to him later."
Mirio smiled, nodded naturally, and with his usual light and carefree steps, left the principal's office.
However, as soon as he walked a few meters down the hallway, he was met with a surprising sight—further ahead, walking with his characteristic elegant posture and impeccable white suit, was Sir Nighteye.
"Sir! Sir!" Mirio called out, quickening his pace to catch up.
The man stopped and turned his head slightly, his glasses reflecting the hallway lights.
"Mirio. I really wasn't expecting to see you."
The young hero grinned and brushed a finger under his nose with ease.
"Oh! So I take it you didn't come here to visit me…"
"No." Sir's response was direct but not harsh. "I actually came to see All Might."
Mirio blinked in surprise before flashing an enthusiastic smile.
"Wow! Your old friend you talk so much about! I'm sure he'll be happy to see you after all this time."
However, as Mirio looked more closely at his mentor's face, his smile faltered slightly. There was something in his expression, in the seriousness of his features, that made him wonder if everything was alright.
"Is something wrong?"
Sir was silent for a moment before replying with his usual composure, "No. Nothing."
Mirio tilted his head, still doubtful, but didn't press the issue.
"I'm sorry I can't formally introduce you to All Might right now, but we have a private matter to discuss."
"I understand. Another time, then." Mirio quickly regained his usual energy and smiled again. "Though I must admit, I'm surprised—considering how insistent you used to be that I should meet him… and that joke you made about me being the future Symbol of Peace in that article."
Sir Nighteye observed him in silence for a moment, as if internally debating something. Then, unexpectedly, a faint smile appeared on his face.
"Mirio…"
"Yes?"
Sir continued looking at him with a cryptic expression before calmly stating with certainty:
"You'd look quite charming with a big curly forelock in front."
Mirio blinked. Then, he curiously ran a hand through his blonde hair.
"You think so? I hadn't considered it, but maybe I should give it a try…"
Sir Nighteye gave a slight nod and resumed his walk down the hallway. Mirio, on the other hand, remained thoughtful for a few seconds before turning in the opposite direction, now entertained by the idea of curling a strand of hair at the front as he continued walking.
...
The plastic All Might figure remained standing in its new place on the desk, undisturbed. However, Izuku's muffled whimpers suddenly broke the stillness of the room, making Bakugo's sleeping face twitch with visible annoyance. At first, he tried to ignore it, hoping it would stop soon, but when the sounds persisted, he opened his eyes in irritation.
"Deku!"
His voice came out hoarse from sleep, ready to throw a few insults at him, but the words got stuck in his throat when his eyes adjusted to the darkness.
Apparently, Bakugo had been lying on the ground, shrouded in darkness, and before him, a group of shadows surrounded Izuku, yanking at his cape and hair with unsettling aggression.
"Murderer!" someone screamed in fury. "You promised to save us, and you didn't!"
"You just used us!"
"Liar! You should be dead!"
"Go away!"
"Leave!"
The voices overlapped, seething with hatred. Bakugo had no idea what was happening, but anger boiled in his chest when he saw that Izuku wasn't fighting back. He just trembled, his eyes filled with tears, whimpering between shallow breaths, unable to move as they kept hitting and pulling him.
Gritting his teeth, Bakugo got up and charged forward without hesitation, violently shoving into the crowd.
"Leave him... Leave him! LEAVE HIM!"
But for some reason, he couldn't break through so easily. His body felt heavier, slower, as if the very air was thick and working against him. To his growing frustration, Izuku kept whimpering instead of fighting back.
"Do something, damn it!" he shouted, trying to reach him.
Just then, the crowd turned on him too. Cold, hostile hands grabbed him, pushed him, trapped him. Instinctively, he tried to use his explosions to break free, but… nothing. No heat, no sparks, not even the familiar pressure in his palms.
Suddenly, the shadows raised their weapons above their heads, ready to keep attacking. Bakugo's body tensed, but before he could take them all down, Izuku's heartbreaking scream echoed through the scene as he saw him surrounded by those people as well.
"Please, STOP!"
Reality cracked with a sharp jolt.
Izuku jolted upright in his bed, panting, drenched in cold sweat. Black tendrils burst uncontrollably from his right arm.
The room was swallowed by a whirlwind of shadows. The dark limbs crashed against the walls, knocking over objects and tearing through the plaster, until they reached the window and shattered it with a deafening crack.
Footsteps echoed in the hallway, followed by insistent knocking at the door and the sound of someone trying to force it open.
"What was that?! Are you two alright?! Open the door!"
The one banging was Iida, his voice a mix of authority and concern.
Izuku barely processed what had just happened. His arm throbbed, but more than that, the sensation of the shadows still echoed around him. Slowly, the tendrils retracted, coiling back into his skin as if they had never existed.
Bakugo remained still for a moment, eyes fixed on the destruction. His expression was more surprised than irritated, but his mind was working at full speed. Then, without warning, he huffed in exasperation and started talking loudly.
"Don't look so shocked! I told you not to put your crap on my side of the room! This is what happens!"
Izuku blinked, still dazed. But when Bakugo shot him a look, he caught on.
"Why do you always have to be so mean?!" he complained, feigning indignation. "That's not your side of the room! It's a shared space!"
"Shut up! Shut up!"
Outside, Iida frowned, but his tone softened slightly as he knocked again, more calmly this time.
"Open up."
Bakugo scoffed before unlocking the door, clearly annoyed.
"What?!"
Iida gave him a disapproving look.
"I don't think this is the right time to argue about room space," he said, crossing his arms. "You're making too much noise, and it sounds like you broke a window."
"That's none of your damn business, four-eyes!"
"There you go again with the appearance-based insults!"
Izuku peeked out from behind Bakugo's shoulder, trying to look more composed than he actually felt.
"I'm really sorry. You're right, we won't make any more noise."
Iida sighed, seeming willing to let it go, but his gaze lingered on Izuku for a moment. The hallway light reflected a damp sheen in his eyes.
"Are you okay?"
Izuku opened his mouth to respond, but Bakugo huffed impatiently.
"He's fine! Don't make this sound like some domestic dispute!"
And with a swift motion, he slammed the door in Iida's face.
Izuku stared at him, unsure whether to thank him for covering for him or scold him for being so rude. In the end, he sighed and reopened the door, this time with more composure.
"Iida!" he called out just before he entered his own room. "I really… I mean it, I'm fine!" Izuku assured him with a forced smile. "We've always been like this since we were kids, but I guess we got a little carried away this time, so you don't have to worry."
Iida studied him for a moment before nodding.
"That's a relief. But please, don't argue anymore. And fix that window."
"I promise."
Once the door finally closed, Izuku turned back to the room and then to Bakugo.
The blond had his arms crossed, eyes still locked on the destruction. He no longer wore the annoyed expression he had been faking. Instead, he looked deep in thought, as if evaluating something.
Finally, he spoke in a low, serious tone.
"We need to tell All Might about this. Now."
Izuku also looked around at the mess.
For a moment, his instinct was to look away. He didn't want to talk about it. He didn't want to admit what he had seen, what he had felt.
But he also knew he couldn't ignore it.
Almost unconsciously, he glanced at the digital clock, which showed it was past midnight.
Even so, he nodded.
...
Author's Notes.
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