Midoriya Izuku, shirtless, doing push-ups on his bedroom floor, the early morning sun flitting through his window onto the ripples of his straining back and triceps. His eyes forward, his brow creased in concentration, he counts to himself in shallow breath:

"Ninety-six, ninety-seven, ninety-eight, ninety-nine, a hundred."

Finished, he loosens the tension in his arms and drops his chest lightly to the floor, letting out a long sigh in relief. Exhaling in sputters, he rests his chin on the carpet and stretches his arms out front of him. Sweat dabbles around his shoulders, at the small of his back, his hairline. He picks himself up and walks to the bathroom, dropping his boxers and turning the water on.

Izuku stands under the shower nozzle, letting the water's stream fall on his head and shoulders. The hot water courses across his body, over the scrapes and cuts from battles, its rushing heat surfacing small stings of pain to his recovering wounds.

The marks of my struggle, evidence of my efforts.

His curly hair falls damp across his face and he squeezes shampoo out of a bottle and into his palm. He raises his hands slowly to his hair, a familiar soreness ringing through his biceps and back, the proof of his persistent training; he scrubs his scalp, soapy froth appearing and rinsing away, appearing and rinsing away. He pushes a swatch of hair from his eyes and looks down at his scarred crooked hand, a small grin forming on his face.

Mangled by my own might. It hurt, so bad, so awfully, but it was worth it, I showed the world who I was. I showed Todoroki and Bakugo that I wasn't a trifle, that I could be a hero.

He squeezes his hand into a fist. Knock, knock, his mother at the bathroom door.

"Izuku honey, your breakfast is ready on the table. Don't be late."

Izuku shuts the water off and grabs a towel from its hook.

"Thanks mom. I'll be out in a second!"

He steps out of the shower, onto the bath mat, and dries himself off. He approaches the bathroom mirror and streaks the towel across its steamed dewy surface, revealing himself in a cloudy reflection. He looks himself in the eyes, resolute.

Another day, another step towards my dream.

Tsuyu wakes with her alarm, sitting up in her bed and rubbing her eyes with her oversized hands. Her long green hair is in tumbles around her, not yet in its trademark bow; it sheens in the soft sunlight. She taps her phone off and steps out of bed, stretching her arms overhead with a low groan before making for the shower.

In the bathroom, she turns the shower on and disrobes, pulling off an oversized t-shirt and stepping out of her panties. She ties her hair up, tugs on a shower cap, and steps into the spitting water. Being frog-like Tsu feels right in the cool water; smiling as the water caresses around her, runs along the curves of her body, refreshing her, soaking into her parchment soft skin.

I can't spend too long in the shower, she thought, no matter how good it feels. I have things to do. Get brother and sister out of bed, put out their breakfast, I think I have to iron my summer uniform.

Taking a sponge, she begins to wash at her face.

Tomorrow's finally Friday, time to take it easy. I can take Satsuki and Samidare to the park after class. We can eat out for dinner tomorrow, I don't want to cook after such a long week. And Mina wants to go on a run Saturday morning, keep our endurance up, soak up the peeking sun, she says it's good for her complexion but what does she know, I don't even think she can tan. Or can she?

Tsu cuts the water and sighs contentedly before toweling herself off.

She nears the mirror and looks herself, noting how her shoulders droop forward, how her breasts wane and how her whole body shrinks in slump. She pushes her chest forward and lets her arms hang straight at her sides, watching herself stretch and open.

Like a whole other girl. I look better when I'm tall, stronger. Kero.

Tsu nods in approval and ties a towel around her torso, making a silent promise to work on her posture today.

Out of the subway station and into the street. A man tapped me on the shoulder to tell me how well I did at the Sports Festival. Top eight, he said, that's a real accomplishment, keep doing your best. All I could do was blush and nod. When am I gonna be able compose myself? My body can handle a hero's demands, but I can't, personally, I don't have the charisma. I get flustered in the spotlight, but a hero's life is all spotlight. What do I do, what do I do…?

Izuku walks down the street towards UA, a hand to his mouth, mumbling to himself, paying no mind to the bustle around. Salarymen in suits dashing aside. Schoolgirl flocks, skirts and loafers, giggling past. Men and women of all sorts and colors and Quirks, horns and scales and tails, about him striding to work, commute, and study.

There are self-help books I can read, maybe I can take a course on presentation, but I don't have the time with training and all. The business students might know a thing or two about cultivating an image, developing a brand. But I just want to be able to go about my day without embarrassing myself. I should practice my elocution. In front of the mirror? But I get nervous around people, not my reflection. I should ask All Might about this.

Out of the corner of his eye, on the other side of the street, Izuku sees a familiar gait, the shape and presence of a friend. He pulls his hand away from his chin and turns to check who it might be. He spots Asui, ambling along, her arms curled in front of her, a plain expression on her face.

I wonder if I should wave or call to her, we're friends after all. Ever since the incident at USJ, we've gotten along pretty well, she joins Lida, Uraraka, and I for lunch sometimes and she's easy to talk to, even if I can't tell what she's up to most of the time. He tugs at his shirt collar. And she's kinda cute. I should say hi when I get the chance, practice being confident.

Izuku stops at a crosswalk with another pedestrian, a businessman glancing at his watch.

Tsuyu stops at a corner, waiting to cross the street. A few passersby gather around her, a middle schooler checking her phone, a woman and her son, fiddling with a soccer ball in his hands. She sizes herself up against the woman and puts a finger to her cheek in thought.

Let's keep that promise, kero. Eyes ahead, chin up. Throw the shoulders back. Heroes don't slouch, you've gotta hold your head high, kero. Stretch.

Izuku watches Asui, amidst a small crowd, drop her hands to her sides and draw her shoulders back, straightening herself and pushing her bust forward. Izuku can't help but stare as Asui presses her bosom ahead, her plush size unrestrained by her usual blazer, no longer concealed by her tendency to hunch. Asui's shirt swells with the fill of her boobs. Her breasts press taut against the fabric of her summer shirt, and her nipples nudge through the white material.

A gush of blood spurts from his nostril and he raises a hand instinctively to cover his nosebleed. His other hand clutches his chest, which has begun to heave with involuntary excitement. His face flushes to the shade of a certain alien queen hero. In that moment all falls away from him, his most pressing desires, to be a hero, to save, to protect, they all escape him. Instead, what flashes through his mind is an image of unalloyed attraction and libido, fueled by Izuku's rabid young hormones: his face between Asui-san's pert full tits, his mouth on her nipple, his hands slinking under her shirt, trailing along the dip of her waist, cupping her warmth.

AH! NO! Midoriya! Collect yourself, get it together! Take a deep breath, you're hyperventilating, that's right, easy, easy. What was that? I didn't know I had that sort of impulse in me. I feel so… hot. There's a heat rising in me, my skin is starting to itch and tingle, and my heart is beating so fast, is this adrenaline? No, this is something else. This is a new sort of energy, desire. I want to…I want to run across the street to Asui and f-

A friendly tap on the arm, the businessman smiling at me.

"Excuse me son, you're glowing."

"Huh?"

Izuku looks down at his hands flickering with the power of One For All. His hair plumes on end and green static forms around him.

Was I so aroused that I activated Full Cowl?

Across the street, Tusyu sees Izuku enter Full Cowl and puts a finger to her cheek in wonder. The boy with the soccer ball takes notice too, eyes widening in amazement. The ball falls from his hands and bounces into the middle of the street; he follows after it, not noticing a truck speeding his way.

Izuku watches the boy chase the ball and leaps into the street with a flash, still in Full Cowl. He plants himself in front of the boy and braces for the impact of the truck, holding his arms out to catch the barreling machine, his arms smoldering with power, burning off his shirtsleeves. The truck collides into Izuku, but he holds, outstretched hands crunching into the grill of truck as his heels impact into the surface of the road. A tongue shoots into the street and lassos the boy around the waist, yanking him off his feet back towards the safety of the sidewalk. The truck's halts and its rear tires lift off the ground with momentum before crashing down with a clatter. Tsuyu places the boy at his mother's side, who wraps him in a relieved embrace. She retracts her tongue and sighs. That was a close one, she thinks, we're probably going to be in some trouble though. She glances at Izuku, still seized against the truck. His muscled arms were poised and flexed, bundled with strength, while his eyes bore ahead, unafraid. He looked very macho, Tsuyu thought, a slight blush rising to her cheeks.

Izuku removes his hands from the truck and steps away. He approaches the mother and her boy.

"Are you alright?"

The little boy nods, still in shock.

Izuku smiles and turns to face Tsuyu. Her eyes dart from his biceps to meet his look. She says pleasantly:

"Good work, Izuku-kun. That could've been bad."

Izuku recalls his moment of arousal.

"T-t-thanks Asui-san. You did a great job too."

"What am I going to say Izuku."

He looks down at his feet.

"Call me Tsu."

Tsuyu smiles. She puts up a hand to his cheek.

"Your nose is bloody, did the truck hit you?"

Izuku pulls away, flustered.

"Oh, no, that's from, uh, something else."

"Hm, well let's get to class. We're already late."

The two start for UA, side-by-side, the sound of police sirens arriving at the scene behind them.