Chapter 18: Strategies and Unexpected Alliances

The U.A. cafeteria at seven-thirty in the morning was a microcosm of nervous energy and caffeine. The air smelled of steamed rice, grilled fish, and the hopes of the next generation of heroes. In the midst of the bustle, at a light-wood table by a window that flooded the space with light, Izuku Midoriya and Momo Yaoyorozu were sharing a surprisingly quiet breakfast.

Izuku devoured his bowl of rice and natto with fierce concentration, while Momo delicately picked at a piece of grilled salmon, her mind clearly elsewhere. Finally, she set down her chopsticks with a precise click and addressed him.

"Midoriya-san," she began, her tone formal but with an undertone of genuine curiosity, "I've been reflecting on our… previous interactions. And on the combat trial."

Izuku nearly choked on a mouthful of rice. "Oh! Yeah? I hope your reflections don't include filing a restraining order."

The corner of Momo's lips curled into a small smile. "No, nothing so drastic. Not yet. My reflections are tactical in nature. My Quirk, Creation, is versatile, but it's slow. In a real fight, against a fast opponent like Iida-san or an overwhelming one like Todoroki-san, the time it takes me to formulate and create a complex object is a capital weakness. Did you…"—she hesitated, as if it were difficult to ask—"in your… analysis… see any way to speed up the process?"

Izuku's eyes lit up. His embarrassment was replaced by the feverish glint of his analytical mode. He leaned across the table, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

"Of course! It's the most obvious problem with your Quirk! Your process is sequential! You think of the handle, then the guard, then the blade of a sword. Layer by layer! It's like building a car piece by piece in the middle of a race! You need shortcuts!"

"Shortcuts?" Momo repeated, intrigued.

"Yes! Mental templates!" he exclaimed, gesturing with his chopsticks. "Don't think about the parts, think about the whole! You need to create a library of 'macros' in your head! A template for 'standard shield,' one for 'containment staff,' another for 'capture net.' Items you use frequently! You have to memorize their entire structure as a single entity, a single concept! That way, when you need a shield, you don't think 'titanium-carbon alloy in a concave formation of 5-millimeter thickness,' you just think 'SHIELD' and, bam!, your Quirk fills in the details!"

The logic was so simple and so elegant that Momo was left speechless. It was a process optimization solution, applied to a superpower.

"That is… incredibly logical," she admitted. "It would drastically reduce mental processing time."

"Exactly!" Izuku said, excited by her understanding. "We could practice it! In fact, I train with Uraraka most afternoons in a secluded spot. You could come. We could run drills. I'll yell 'Net cannon!', you think 'NET TEMPLATE' and, wham! We could cut your creation time by fifty percent in a couple of weeks!"

The offer hung in the air. The idea was tempting. To train with him, with the boy who had unraveled the secrets of his own power…

Momo looked at him skeptically, an eyebrow arched. "You and Uraraka-san, training together? And does this generous offer of 'help' include you staring at me while you… assess my fuel reserves?"

Izuku choked, for real this time, on a sip of orange juice. He coughed, thumping his chest. "N-no! Of course not!" he stammered, his face red. "Well, a little. I mean, I can't help it! Your figure is perfect! It's like the pinnacle of biological efficiency for your Quirk! But my intention would be purely as a coach! I swear on the comfort of your…!"

He stopped short, realizing he was about to make it much worse.

Momo watched him struggle, a losing battle between his sincerity and his lack of a filter. Finally, she let out a sigh that was half exasperation, half amusement.

"You're incorrigible, Midoriya-san."

"It's a gift," he said with resignation.

"I accept your offer," she said, surprising herself. "On one condition: if I catch you staring too much, I will create a cage around you. A very small and difficult-to-disassemble one."

Izuku's eyes widened. "Deal! I'll be the most professional, respectful coach you've ever seen! A monk! I won't think about your curves even once!"

"I highly doubt that," she said dryly.

Just then, Izuku's phone buzzed on the table. It was a message from his mom.

Mom: Izuku, sweetie, good morning! I tried moving three marbles at once while meditating and it worked! This cream you brought me is magic, my skin is super soft! Have fun at school, train hard, but no putting your mischievous hands where they don't belong! 😉❤️

Izuku almost dropped his phone. The blush on his face reached nuclear proportions. Momo, seeing his reaction, tilted her head.

"Your mother?" she asked.

"Y-yeah!" he stammered, putting the phone away as if it were burning him. "She… she was reminding me to take my vitamins."

"She seems sweet."

"She is," Izuku said, regaining a little composure. "She's improving a lot with her Quirk. She's my number one fan."

Nearby, Kirishima leaned toward Kaminari. "Hey, did you hear they're gonna increase security for the USJ trip? They're saying there have been some rumors about villain activity in the area."

Momo frowned, her moment of levity vanishing. Villain activity? Something about that phrase sent a chill down her spine.

Hours later, the afternoon sun bathed the abandoned beach in a golden, melancholic light. The waves broke gently against the shore. Ochako stood in the middle of the cleaned-up section, concentrating, levitating a series of different-sized rocks that orbited slowly around her like a miniature solar system.

"Good! That's it, Uraraka! Fine control!" Izuku encouraged her from a nearby dune, his notebook open on his knees. "Now try to speed up the smallest rock's orbit without affecting the others!"

"I'm trying!" she panted. "It's like trying to rub your stomach and pat your head at the same time!"

It was then that a third voice, musical and dangerously cheerful, joined the scene. "Well, well! Am I interrupting something important, hero boy?"

They both spun around. Standing at the edge of the beach, wearing a smile that was all teeth and promises of chaos, was Himiko Toga.

"You!" Izuku exclaimed, surprised.

Ochako, however, had a very different reaction. The rocks floating around her dropped to the sand with a dull thud. She instantly fell into a defensive stance, putting her body between Izuku and the newcomer.

"Deku, get away from her!" she warned, her voice tense. "Who is she?! And why does she have a knife the size of my forearm strapped to her thigh?"

"Uraraka, calm down!" Izuku said, holding up his hands. "Relax! It's Toga. The… the girl I told you about."

"The fugitive who tried to kill you and whose cure requires you to touch her butt?" Ochako asked, her tone dripping with disbelief and disapproval.

"The one and only!" Izuku confirmed cheerfully.

Toga sauntered across the sand. "Complicated and adorable, don't forget. And your hero boy has already tasted my… charms. Up close and personal."

Ochako's jaw dropped. "'Tasted your charms'? WHAT?! Deku, what else did you do that you didn't tell me?"

"Nothing! It was for the Quirk! I swear!" Izuku defended himself, feeling the situation slipping out of his control. "Toga, please, don't help!"

"Okay, okay," she laughed. "But your friend looks angry. Does she think I'm going to steal you?"

"I think you're going to stab us!" Ochako retorted.

"Nobody is going to stab anybody!" Izuku intervened, stepping between them. "Toga, I told you I'd help you, and I'm going to prove it. Ochako, I'm asking you to trust me. Toga is here to train." He looked at Toga. "What we saw in the alley was a glimpse. Today, we're testing Phase 3 of your evolution: controlled imitation without blood intake."

He picked up an old newspaper from the sand. In the local section was a photo of Ochako from a school sports festival. "Focus on her. On her voice. Try to imitate it. Just one word."

Toga looked at the photo, then at Ochako, and smiled. She closed her eyes. When she opened them, her smile was the same, but the voice that came out was a perfect replica of Ochako's.

"Deku."

Ochako flinched as if she'd heard a ghost.

Izuku scribbled frantically. "Good! One second! Again!"

Toga focused again. "Deku… you idiot."

"Two seconds! It's working!" Izuku exclaimed.

"Hey!"

Toga laughed, her own voice returning. "This is so cool! It's like having a new toy!"

It was at that moment that Momo Yaoyorozu reached the top of the dune. She observed the scene with an expression of polite confusion: Izuku with a notebook, Ochako in a combat stance, and a blonde girl in a different school uniform with a very large knife.

"Midoriya-san," she said, her calm voice cutting through the tension. "Am I interrupting? You told me to come for training, not a confrontation with an alleged juvenile delinquent."

"Momo! You're just in time!" Izuku said, completely unperturbed. "This is Toga! The newest member of our training team! In progress!"

"We are not a team!" Ochako and Momo protested in unison.

"Of course you are! You're all amazing!" Izuku declared with a radiant smile.

Toga, enjoying the chaos, decided to add more fuel to the fire. She looked Momo up and down, her gaze lingering on her chest with an almost clinical appreciation.

"So you're the Deluxe Edition manual," she said with a sly grin. "Deku told me about you."

Momo blushed violently. "I… I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, I think you do!" Toga laughed. "Watch this."

She closed her eyes again. And for four glorious, chaotic seconds, she transformed. Not her face, not her hair. Just her chest. Her modest bust suddenly swelled, perfectly replicating Momo's figure and filling out her blouse to an almost comical degree.

She opened her eyes and gave Izuku a predatory smile. "Like what you see, hero boy?" she said in her own voice, though her chest was still Momo's. "Want to… 'analyze' this data?"

Izuku's brain rebooted. Ochako let out a strangled squeak. And Momo stared, her face pale with shock, at a distorted version of herself. After four seconds, the transformation faded, and Toga's chest returned to normal.

"Incredible!" Izuku muttered, snapping out of his trance and writing like a madman. "Partial physical imitation without blood intake! Four seconds! The potential is enormous!"

His Quirk's activation gave him an updated reading.

[QUIRK NAME: TRANSFORM] [USER: HIMIKO TOGA] [LINKED PHYSIOLOGY]: Transformation via blood. [PROGRESS]: Partial vocal imitation (2 seconds without blood, stable). Partial physical imitation (4 seconds without blood, unstable, high energy consumption). [CURRENT LIMITS]: Full transformations require blood. Vocal/physical control is unstable, 4-second maximum without blood. [LATENT POTENTIAL]: Sustained partial transformations (voice, facial features, other attributes) without blood, potential for up to 10 seconds with visualization and energy control practice. [SUGGESTED EVOLUTION PATH]: (Update) Daily vocal imitation (5 minutes, 3 times a day). Visualization exercises of specific features. Continue iron and L-carnitine supplements to stabilize base energy.

"Did you see that?!" Izuku said, showing them the notebook. "The path is clear!"

Just then, a high-pitched buzz sounded overhead. A small U.A. drone, its red light blinking, flew over the beach, making a security sweep.

Instinctively, Toga ducked, pulling Izuku down with her behind a dune. "Shit!" she hissed. "If they see me, I'm dead!"

The drone passed by without stopping. Toga didn't emerge from her hiding spot until the buzzing had completely faded. The playful atmosphere had evaporated.

"If they see me, it's over," she repeated, her voice now devoid of joy, just a trace of the fear she felt. "They'll call the heroes. And the game will be over."

"They won't find you," Izuku said firmly, standing up and offering her a hand. "Not while you're with us. We'll protect you."

Ochako looked at Izuku, then at the terrified blonde girl. She let out a long sigh. "This is insane. Completely and utterly insane. But…" —she looked at Izuku and her expression softened— "…I trust you, Deku-kun. If you say we can help her, then we'll try."

Momo, who had been processing the scene with a mixture of horror and fascination, nodded slowly. "I also trust your judgment, Midoriya-san. Although my logic is screaming at me that this is a catastrophic mistake, the data doesn't lie. Your method works. But something… something doesn't add up in all this."

Izuku looked at his strange, dysfunctional team: a girl who defied gravity, a genius of creation, and a fugitive who could steal faces. He looked at himself, the unlikely nexus holding this group together. He looked out at the sea, where the waves broke against the shore, and for an instant, he felt a strange sense of danger, a cold premonition that had nothing to do with the U.A. drones.

"We'll figure it out," he said, his voice more for himself than for them. "Together."

Izuku's notebook, lying open on the sand, was lifted by a gust of wind, its pages flipping rapidly until they stopped on one filled with scribbles about the USJ's security. The sun was sinking below the horizon, staining the sky an ominous red. It was a tense stillness, the silence that precedes a crash.