The buzz of the fluorescent lights seemed to drill into the silence of Classroom 1-A, even though they were already off. The setting sun was the only illumination, painting the rows of empty desks in burnt orange.
Melissa dropped her forehead onto the cold surface of the teacher's desk and the thud echoed in the room.
"If I hear Iida scream about the importance of pencil alignment one more time, I'm going to develop a nervous tic," she muttered against the wood.
She lifted her head slowly to rest her chin on her crossed arms while her right arm throbbed with a dull, constant rhythm.
"And Bakugo..." she continued talking to herself. "Katsuki Bakugo is an endurance test for human sanity. How can anyone be so angry about the cafeteria menu?"
She sighed and closed her eyes, feeling the weight of the Class Presidency and the secret of One For All like a concrete slab on her back.
The classroom door slid open with a soft sound.
"You look like you tried to solve a physics equation without caffeine and using a broken abacus."
Melissa opened one eye. Izuku was standing in the doorway with that usual relaxed posture, holding two cold cans.
"Worse," she admitted, sitting up properly and wincing as her shoulder cracked. "I tried to organize twenty teenagers with superpowers, unstable hormones, and massive egos. Thank you, Izuku."
He walked toward the desk, his red sneakers tapping a calm rhythm, and offered her one of the cans.
"Apple juice," he said. "Your brain needs it."
"You are a lifesaver."
Melissa opened the can and the snap of escaping gas was strangely satisfying before she took a long drink.
"God, I needed this. Did Aizawa-sensei send you to see if I had survived, or did you come to collect the bodies?"
Izuku let out a soft laugh, leaned against the edge of the desk facing her, and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Aizawa is sleeping in the teachers' lounge because the class rep election exhausted his social energy reserve for the rest of the month. I was just passing by. I wanted to see how my favorite President was doing."
"I am your only President."
"Small details." He looked directly at her. "You did well today, Melissa. Really."
She lowered the can and played with the metal ring.
"You think? I felt like I was herding explosive cats."
"Chaos is natural in the group formation phase, but your handling of the crisis in the hallway during the press invasion was amazing," he explained calmly. "Vocal control, dominant body posture, and using the environment to elevate yourself. You have leadership material and people listen to you."
"They listen to me because I was shouting while hanging from a doorframe," she replied with a tired smile. "It wasn't exactly diplomacy."
"It was effective, and diplomacy doesn't stop stampedes, authority does." Izuku tilted his head. "But you look exhausted and you are protecting your right arm."
Melissa stopped when she realized her left hand was unconsciously rubbing her right forearm.
"Nothing escapes you, does it?"
"It's my job not to miss a detail. Does it hurt?"
"It's not exactly pain," she said, stretching her arm cautiously over the desk. "It's tension. It feels like the nerves are vibrating on a frequency I can't turn off."
"The nervous system still remembers the trauma." Izuku set his own can aside and stepped closer. "May I?"
Melissa nodded.
Izuku took Melissa's right hand with a firm but careful grip.
"Your body is stressed," he murmured, pressing gently with his thumb at the base of her wrist. "Do you feel pressure here?"
"A little," she admitted, looking at Izuku's hands full of small white scars. "It feels stiff."
"It's normal after so much work. You need to release the accumulated tension or you will lose precision in your movements."
Izuku began to massage the palm of her hand, moving toward the thumb.
"Ouch," Melissa hissed when he pressed a specific spot.
"Sorry. Sensitive part. You have to breathe, Melissa. You are holding your breath."
"It's hard to breathe when someone is digging their finger into a nerve," she joked, releasing her breath.
"Better?"
"Yes. A little. It feels warm."
Izuku looked up from her hand and met her eyes, taking advantage of the closeness in the bluish gloom of the classroom.
"Heat is a good sign because it means the blood is circulating again." His voice dropped a tone. "You are carrying a lot of weight with the presidency, your father's expectations, and All Might's."
"And yours," she added in a whisper.
Izuku shook his head slowly.
"I don't have expectations. I have certainties. I know what you can do and I don't need to wait for anything."
Melissa's heart skipped a beat at that absolute confidence he gave her with total naturalness.
"It scares me sometimes that you trust so much," she confessed, letting her guard down. "What if I break again? What if I fail?"
"Then we fix it," he replied immediately, letting go of her hand for a second to move up her forearm. "If you break, we repair you. If you fail, we adjust the strategy. You are not alone in this. I am your consultant and your success is my success."
"That is a very professional way of saying you are my friend."
"I am efficient with words."
Melissa let out a nervous little laugh as the massage dissipated the phantom pain and a sensation of warmth rose up her arm.
"Izuku... Do you think this is going to work? The training?"
He stopped his hands but didn't let go.
"You have great potential. Look at what you did in the exam and what you achieved today. You are evolving at a speed that is scary."
"I have a good teacher."
"You have good instinct."
They remained silent for a few seconds and the atmosphere in the classroom changed.
"Relax," he said, resuming the massage on her right shoulder. "You are tense again. Drop your shoulders."
"I'm trying. It's difficult."
"Trust me."
And then it happened.
Melissa felt a violent suction in the center of her chest, as if an invisible hook were pulling on her sternum, and at the same time, she felt Izuku being dragged toward her.
"What...?"
The world turned an absolute, blinding white, cutting off the sound of the air conditioning and distant traffic instantly, only to give way to total darkness.
Gravity disappeared and Melissa felt like she was floating suspended in a space with no up or down, her heart beating wildly as the only sound.
"Izuku?" she called out with a voice that sounded projected outward from her own head. "Are you there?"
"I'm here," Izuku's voice replied hauntingly close to her right ear. "To your right."
Melissa reached out frantically in the dark until her fingers grazed a warm arm which she grabbed tightly.
"What happened? Is it an attack?" she asked with panic. "Where are we? I can't see anything."
"I don't think it's a villain. There was no intruder alert or hostile intent," Izuku said with his usual analytical tone. "The transition was instantaneous with no apparent physical displacement."
"Then what is it? Teleportation?"
"Atmospheric pressure is nonexistent but I'm not suffocating. The temperature is neutral and there is no ambient sound. This is not a physical place. It is a mental or dimensional space."
"Dimensional?"
"Something like that. Do you feel okay?"
"Just dizzy and confused." Melissa squeezed Izuku's arm tighter. "Izuku, I don't like this. It's too dark."
"Wait. I think I can see something."
The space began to change little by little, revealing a haze of static light and a vast horizon of muted colors, purples and grays.
Melissa blinked, adjusting her eyes.
"I see it now. I can see you. You are..."
She stopped. Her eyes went down and her brain froze.
She looked at her own body and then at Izuku's.
The silence lasted three eternal seconds.
"KYAAAAAA!"
She let go of Izuku's arm as if it were burning and floated backward, moving her arms and legs frantically to cover herself.
She was completely naked; her uniform and underwear had disappeared, leaving her pale skin shining under the static light.
"Don't look!" she screamed, curling into a floating ball. "Izuku, for the love of god, don't look! Turn around!"
The shame was a physical wave of heat, but she didn't hear Izuku panic or apologize.
Slowly, she opened one eye.
Izuku was floating in front of her, also naked, with absolute calm and his arms relaxed at his sides without trying to cover himself. His green eyes were fixed on her with palpable intensity.
"Why haven't you turned around?" Melissa shrieked, completely red. "I told you not to look!"
"Why wouldn't I look?" Izuku asked with exasperating tranquility, tilting his head to get a better angle. "You have an incredible body, Melissa. It would be an illogical waste to close my eyes before such a view."
Melissa's mouth opened and closed several times.
"View? Are you analyzing me? Now? Like this?"
"I am always analyzing," he replied, pointing vaguely at her with a naked hand. "Your body is fascinating. With the loose U.A. uniform it's hard to appreciate the figure underneath, but seeing you like this, you have excellent definition."
His gaze traveled down her legs and waist only to go up again with brutal honesty.
"Also, the waist-to-hip ratio is extremely attractive."
"Stop talking about my body!" she yelled, hiding her face between her knees. "We are naked, Izuku! It's indecent!"
"Indecency is a social construct based on context and here there is no society. It's just you, me, and anatomy." He floated a little closer gently. "And besides... you are beautiful. Aesthetically perfect. You have incredible curves and enviable symmetry."
Melissa's brain decided to stop working before Izuku's crushing sincerity, which wasn't trying to flirt, but simply stating facts.
"You are impossible," she groaned with hysterical resignation.
"I get told that a lot, especially by Yu," he admitted with a half-smile.
"My, my. You have your grandmother's romantic tact and your grandfather's suicidal audacity. You certainly are a Midoriya through and through."
A third deep, male voice broke the intimacy of the moment.
Melissa jolted in the air and Izuku tensed instantly, getting into a guard position in front of Melissa to protect her despite his nakedness.
From the dark mist emerged a tall, athletic man with messy dark hair and eyes that shared the shape of Izuku's. He wore simple clothes made of smoke that oscillated between solidity and transparency.
"I have waited a long time for this moment," the man said, floating toward them with a nostalgic smile. "The moment when the bearer of the 'Train' would finally meet and synchronize with the bearer of Accumulation."
Izuku maintained his position protecting Melissa.
"Who are you? How do you know my name and my Quirk?"
The man stopped and put his hands in the pockets of his smoke pants.
"I know your name because I gave it to you, in a way. And I know your Quirk because originally it was mine."
He looked Izuku in the eye.
"I am Kenta Midoriya. Your great-grandfather. And the original architect of half the power that girl carries inside her bones... The Gift of Accumulation."
*****
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