Bab 49: [49] Artifacts of Ambition
I flop onto my bed, exhaustion finally catching up with me. The Sports Festival's been a whirlwind, and I haven't checked my phone in hours. I fish it out of my pocket, squinting at the bright screen.
A flood of notifications greets me, but two messages stand out. Nejire and Momo.
I open Nejire's text first:
"Hey Izuku! How'd the Sports Festival go? 😊"
I type back: "I won."
Her reply comes almost instantly: "Congratulations! 🎉🎉🎉 You were amazing out there!"
I smile, remembering our bet. "Thanks! Don't forget about our wager. I'll be cashing in on that eventually."
"Oh? 😏 I'm looking forward to it. What do you have in mind?"
I chuckle. "You'll see. It's a surprise."
Next, I open Momo's message: "Hi Izuku, what time did you want to go to the museum tomorrow for our date?"
I pause, considering. The museum date. With everything that's happened, it almost slipped my mind. I glance at the clock. It's late, but not too late to reply.
"How about we meet at 10 AM? We can grab lunch afterward if you'd like."
Her response comes quickly: "Sounds perfect! I'm really looking forward to it. 😊"
Flipping to Twitter, I paused on the photo I'd posted earlier. Bakugo and I, medals gleaming at our necks, our grins a mix of victory and rivalry. Mom's proud smile. Aunt Mitsuki's fiery gaze. The comments poured in:
"The next #1 and #2 heroes, calling it now!"
"Deku and Kacchan, UA's unbeatable duo!"
A sharp knock at the door shook me from my reading.
"Yo, Midoriya! Open up!"
Kirishima. And from the muffled voices, Kaminari and Sero too. What were they up to?
Hauling myself up, I cracked the door open. "What's up, guys?"
They tumbled in, Kaminari leading the charge with a sly grin. "Heard you got a hot date with Yaomomo tomorrow, dude! We're here to make sure you don't embarrass yourself."
I raised an eyebrow. "Pretty sure I can dress myself, thanks."
Sero clapped a hand on my shoulder. "This is Yaoyorozu we're talking about, man. The classiest chick in UA. You can't just throw on a hoodie and call it good."
"And how exactly did you hear about this date, hm?" My eyes narrowed.
Their eyes darted to the side, feet shuffling nervously. I smirked. "It was Mina, wasn't it? Hagakure would've sent Ojiro along too."
Kirishima rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling awkwardly. "Well, you see..."
They dissolved into a flurry of excuses and deflections. Ah well. Secrets never stayed secret long in the UA dorms. And if my classmates wanted to play wingman, who was I to stop them? Their investment could only work in my favor.
"Alright, alright," I relented, throwing my hands up in mock surrender. "Do your worst, fashion police."
As they raided my closet, bickering over shirt choices, my mind wandered to Momo. Was she enduring a similar ambush? Knowing our classmates, almost certainly. The thought sparked a flicker of sympathy... and something warmer.
This could be an interesting date indeed.
{Momo's POV}
"No, no, no! The blue dress, not the green one!"
"But the green brings out her eyes!"
"The blue is more sophisticated!"
I bury my face in my hands, letting out a muffled groan. How did it come to this? One moment I was confiding in Kyoka and Mina about my upcoming date with Midoriya, the next my room was invaded.
Mina holds up a sleek black dress, eyeing it critically. "What about this one? Classic, elegant, with just a hint of sex appeal."
Hagakure's invisible hand snatches it away. "Too much! We want classy, not vixen!"
I peek out from between my fingers. My room looks like a fashion battlefield, clothes strewn across every surface. Kyoka, bless her, is trying to restore some order, but it's a losing battle against Mina and Hagakure's enthusiasm.
"Guys, really, it's not that big of a deal," I try, but my voice is lost in the commotion.
Mina whirls on me, hands on her hips. "Not that big of a deal? Momo, honey, this is Midoriya we're talking about! The boy is a catch, and you've got to snatch him up before someone else does!"
I feel my cheeks heat up. "It's just one date..."
"One date that could lead to more!" Hagakure chimes in. "And he's already got that Hado girl sniffing around. Plus, I saw him talking to some blonde third-year earlier..."
My stomach does a little flip. I knew Izuku was popular, but hearing it laid out so bluntly...
Jiro laid a hand on my shoulder. "Hey, he asked you out, didn't he? Clearly he's interested."
Mina nods sagely. "Exactly. Which is why we've got to make sure you look absolutely stunning tomorrow. I've already got Kirishima on outfit duty for Midoriya, so we can coordinate."
I blink. "You what?"
She waves a hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it. Just trust me, okay? By the time we're done, Midoriya won't know what hit him."
I lean back on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. What have I gotten myself into?
As the girls continue to plot and plan, I let my thoughts drift to Midoriya. What is he doing right now? Is he as nervous about tomorrow as I am? Or is he cool and collected as always?
I close my eyes, picturing his face. Those intense green eyes, that confident smile. The way he always seems to know exactly what to say, how to act. Like he's got the whole world figured out.
But there's more to him than that. I've seen the cracks in his armor, the glimpses of something deeper.
I want to know that Midoriya. And maybe tomorrow will be my chance.
A dress lands on my face, startling me out of my reverie.
"Try this one on," Mina commands. "Trust me, it's perfect."
I sit up, holding the dress in front of me. It is perfect, I have to admit.
I smile. Perfect for what, I'm not quite sure yet. But I'm excited to find out.
{Izuku's POV}
I adjust my collar for the third time, studying my reflection in the mirror. The outfit Kirishima and the guys picked out is definitely a step up from my usual style. A fitted forest green shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, paired with dark, well-tailored jeans. Shiny black boots, a sleek watch on my wrist. My signature emerald earrings, a subtle but striking accent.
I take a breath, centering myself. It's just a date. A social outing with a classmate. Nothing to get worked up about.
Except it's not just any classmate. It's Momo Yaoyorozu. The girl who's been on my mind more and more lately, for reasons I haven't fully unpacked.
A glance at my phone tells me it's time to go. I pocket my wallet and keys, give myself one last once-over in the mirror, and head out.
I head downstairs to a small crowd of my classmates, their eyes wide and smiles wider. Kirishima gives me a thumbs up, Kaminari lets out a low whistle, and Sero nods in approval.
"Looking sharp, Midoriya!" Mina gushes, circling me with a critical eye. "Yaomomo won't know what hit her."
I chuckle. "Thanks, Ashido. I just hope I can keep up with her."
"Speaking of," Hagakure chimes in. "Here she comes!"
I turn, and my breath catches in my throat. Momo is a vision in a deep blue dress that hugs her curves, the neckline tasteful but tantalizing. Her hair is swept up in an elegant twist, a few stray locks framing her face. Simple pearl earrings and a matching necklace complete the look.
She meets my gaze, a shy smile on her lips. "Midoriya. You look...wow."
I grin, offering her my arm. "I could say the same to you, Yaoyorozu. Shall we?"
As we walk through the dorm, our classmates' cheers and well-wishes follow us. I catch snippets of conversation - "They grow up so fast," from Sero, "Get it, Midoriya!" from Kaminari.
Only one face is missing from the crowd. Iida, still at the hospital with his brother. I make a mental note to ask Ai to look into this Hero Killer Stain. Just in case.
We step out into the sunlight, the U.A. campus bustling with weekend activity. Almost immediately, heads start to turn. Whispers follow us as we walk, punctuated by the occasional giggle or gasp.
"Is that Midoriya? The Sports Festival winner?"
"And Yaoyorozu, the runner-up! They make such a cute couple!"
"Can we get a picture?"
I glance at Momo, raising an eyebrow. She nods. We pose for a few quick photos, signing the odd autograph.
As we make our way to the train station, I catch Momo looking at me out of the corner of my eye.
"What?" I ask, tilting my head.
She blushes, looking away. "Nothing, just...you handle all this so well. The attention, the fame. It's like you were born for it."
I laugh, shaking my head. "Hardly. I'm just good at pretending."
She frowns slightly, her eyes searching mine. "Is that what this is? Pretending?"
I pause, considering my words. "Not all of it," I say finally, my voice softer. "Not with you."
The train ride passes in comfortable conversation, interspersed with the occasional fan interaction. We discuss our favorite heroes, our hopes for the future, carefully skirting around the heavier topics. There will be time for that later, I think. For now, I just want to enjoy her company.
The hero museum looms before us, a sleek modern building with larger-than-life statues of All Might and other top heroes flanking the entrance. Momo's eyes light up as we approach.
"I've been wanting to visit this place for ages," she says, her excitement palpable. "Did you know they have original sketches of some of the first hero costumes?"
I nod, matching her enthusiasm. "And prototypes of support gear from the early days of quirk regulation. It's fascinating to see how far we've come."
We step inside, the cool air a welcome relief from the summer heat. The atrium is bustling with visitors, families with excited kids, couples on dates, and the occasional hero nerd scribbling furiously in notebooks.
"Where should we start?" Momo asks, scanning the directory.
I point to a sign advertising a new exhibit. "How about 'The Rise of Vigilantism: Heroes Before the Law'? Sounds intriguing."
As we make our way through the exhibit, I find myself genuinely engrossed. The displays chronicle the chaotic early days of quirk emergence, when people with powers took justice into their own hands. There's a haunting quality to the grainy photos and worn artifacts.
"It's hard to imagine a world without regulated heroes," Momo muses, studying a tattered vigilante mask. "Do you think things were better or worse back then?"
I pause, considering. "It was probably more dangerous, but there was also more freedom. Heroes now have to navigate so much red tape."
Momo raises an eyebrow. "You sound almost envious."
I shrug, keeping my tone light. "Just thinking out loud. The system we have now protects a lot of people."
We move on to an interactive display about quirk classification. Momo's creation quirk stumps the system, generating a comically long list of potential categories. My "super-strength" gets a much simpler readout.
"Somehow, I don't think this quite captures the complexity of your quirk," Momo says.
I laugh. "Yeah, well, you know how these things are. Always simplifying."
As we wander through the museum, our conversation flows easily. We debate the merits of different hero agencies, swap stories about our favorite pro heroes, and speculate about the future of heroics. Momo's intelligence shines through, her insights often surprising me.
We pause in front of a wall dedicated to international heroes. Momo points to a photo of a heroine from India, her costume a riot of color and intricate patterns.
"Isn't it interesting how different cultures approach heroism?" she says. "In some countries, heroes are practically worshipped. In others, they're barely tolerated."
I nod, studying the global map of hero activity. "It makes you wonder how much of our own hero culture is shaped by society, and how much is universal."
As we moved through the exhibit on international heroes, I felt Momo's hand brush against mine. It was a fleeting touch, probably accidental, but it sent a jolt through me. I glanced at her, wondering if she'd noticed.
Her eyes were fixed on a display about Russian hero teams, but a faint blush colored her cheeks. Interesting.
I shifted closer, letting our hands bump again. This time, I let my fingers linger near hers. Momo's breath caught, barely audible over the ambient noise of the museum.
"Hey," I said softly, nodding towards a quieter corner of the exhibit. "Want to check out the section on hero partnerships?"
Momo nodded, her eyes meeting mine for a brief moment before darting away. As we walked, I made a decision. I reached out, gently taking her hand in mine.
Her fingers tensed for a second, then relaxed, intertwining with my own.
We stopped in front of a large display showcasing famous hero duos throughout history.
"It's fascinating, isn't it?" Momo said, her voice a touch higher than usual. "How some heroes just... click. Like they were meant to work together."
I nodded, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "Yeah. Chemistry like that, you can't fake it."
Momo turned to me, her dark eyes searching mine. "Izuku, I..."
A loud crash interrupted her. We both jumped, our hands separating as we spun towards the sound. A kid had knocked over a replica of an old hero statue. His parents were profusely apologizing to a frazzled-looking museum employee.
I chuckled, the tension broken. "Never a dull moment, huh?"
Momo laughed too, shaking her head. "I guess not. Should we keep exploring?"
I held out my hand again, an invitation. "Lead the way."
She took it without hesitation this time, her smile bright enough to rival any of the shiny hero memorabilia surrounding us.
{A/N: So I was planning on making a JJK Fanfic, but with the manga ending end of next month I am going to wait until it ends to write anything for that. BUT I did get hit with inspiration of doing a One Piece Fanfic. When you read this it should be live with the first two chapters so if thats something you would like to read, look out for it!}
Status Power Mingguan
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