Waking up wasn't an event; it was a process. Izuku didn't get up to the sound of his alarm or the rays of the sun. He woke up to a sensation. A presence. A warm, rhythmic breath ghosting across his cheek. His eyelids felt heavy, glued shut with sleep, but he slowly peeled them open, his vision struggling to focus through the fog.
The first thing he saw was an eye. A single, enormous, brilliant yellow eye, watching him with feline curiosity just inches from his face.
Izuku's brain took a second to process the image; a second where sleep still clung to him. And then, panic hit him with the force of one of Bakugo's explosions.
He choked back a scream, a pathetic sort of squawk, and scrambled backward with a violence that would have been comical under any other circumstance. His body slammed against the wall with a dull thud, tangling him in his own sheets. His heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird.
Toga didn't move. She didn't startle. She simply blinked, a sleepy, amused smile on her lips. She was sitting on the edge of his bed, legs crossed, as if it were the most natural place in the world to be.
"Toga!" Izuku gasped, his voice hoarse with sleep and shock. "What the hell are you doing here!?"
"Good morning, Izuku-kun," she said, her voice a melodic whisper. "You were making little noises in your sleep. Like a scared little bunny. It was very cute."
He stared at her, trying to catch his breath as confusion began to displace the terror. She was wearing one of his old T-shirts, one that fit her like a dress, and her blonde hair was even messier than usual. She looked strangely domestic, and that scared him almost more than the knife in the alley.
"How… how did you get in my room?" he asked, his voice still a tense whisper.
She shrugged, a fluid, cat-like motion. "Your mom told me to come wake you up. She said if I didn't, you'd be late for school. She's a very kind woman, your mom."
She paused. Her smile grew a little sharper, her eyes glinting with an intention that sent a shiver down Izuku's spine.
"And… you forgot something last night, Izuku-kun."
He frowned, his mind still thick with sleep. "What? The English homework? I swear I did it."
Toga shook her head slowly. "No. My ration."
Before Izuku could even process the meaning of that word, she leaned over him. It wasn't an aggressive movement, but a deliberate, almost lazy one. Her face drew close to his. Izuku froze, his back pressed against the cold wall.
Toga's tongue, quick and surprisingly warm, traced a small, wet line on his cheek.
Izuku shuddered violently, a choked sound escaping his lips. The sensation was strange, intimate, and profoundly unsettling.
"I could get used to this, though," she whispered, her warm breath against his skin. "Sleepy-hero-flavor is my new favorite."
But she didn't stop there. With a firmness that betrayed her small frame, she took Izuku's right hand. He tried to pull it back, but her grip was like steel. She brought it to her mouth.
"Wait, Toga, what—!"
Her teeth, small and sharp, closed over the tip of his index finger. It wasn't a painful bite, more of a sharp, surprising prick. Izuku let out a whimper.
A moment later, the sensation changed. Her mouth closed over the small wound, and her tongue began to lap at the tiny droplet of blood. She kept her eyes closed, her expression one of pure, absolute satisfaction. It was an act that was simultaneously lewd and deeply practical.
Finally, she released his finger. A tiny red mark, like an insect bite, was the only evidence of the assault. She licked her lips slowly, a gesture of appreciation.
"Mmm… delicious," she murmured, her voice a satisfied purr. "Much better than that office worker I tasted last week. You have a very heroic flavor. Sweet, but with a hint of determination."
Her morning mission accomplished, she rose from the bed with silent agility. She stretched, her back letting out a small pop. The T-shirt rode up slightly, revealing the handle of the knife she had tucked into the waistband of a pair of shorts she must have grabbed from the laundry.
"All done," she said cheerfully. "See you at breakfast, Izuku-kun. Try not to be late."
And with that, she walked out of the room, leaving him alone. Izuku sat on the bed, tangled in his sheets, staring at his finger with a mixture of shock, confusion, and a blush so intense he was sure it reached the tips of his ears.

When Izuku finally made it down to the kitchen, the smell of toast and miso soup almost made him forget his strange wake-up call. Almost. Inko, an apron tied around her waist, moved about the kitchen with infectious energy. Toga was sitting at the dining table, examining a box of cereal with the fascination of an anthropologist discovering an alien artifact. She was wearing one of Ochako's pink hoodies, the one they had given her the night before. It was a little big on her, making her look younger and more harmless than Izuku knew she was.
Just then, the doorbell rang.
"I'll get it!" Inko announced with a smile, wiping her hands on her apron.
She opened the door to reveal Ochako and Momo, both in their U.A. uniforms and carrying several cloth bags that looked quite heavy.
"Girls! It's so good to see you! Come in, come in!" Inko said, stepping aside. "Just in time for breakfast! I made extra!"
"Good morning, Mrs. Midoriya!" Ochako said, giving a small bow. She looked a little nervous, her eyes darting cautiously into the apartment. "Thanks for having us again. We brought… well, a few things. For Toga-chan."
Momo gave a deeper, more formal bow. "We considered that she might require clothing in her size and some basic necessities. We made a selection based on practicality and comfort. I hope they are to her liking."
Toga, who had been ignoring the door, looked up from the cereal box. Her expression of distracted curiosity was replaced by one of genuine, absolute surprise.
"For… me?" she asked, her voice unusually small.
"Of course!" Ochako said, walking over and placing the bags on a chair. "It's clothes we don't wear anymore, but they're almost new. I thought… well, that you might like to have your own things instead of… stealing Deku-kun's clothes."
Izuku, emerging from the hallway already changed and with his hair still damp, smiled. "Wow, you guys. That's incredible of you. Really."
Toga stood up and walked over to the bags. With a hesitation Izuku had never seen from her, she pulled out a pale yellow hoodie. The fabric was soft. She looked at it, then at Ochako, then at Momo. A slow, genuine smile, completely devoid of malice, spread across her face.
"Thank you… Uraraka. Yaomomo," she said, using their names with a strange familiarity.
"You're welcome!" Ochako replied, clearly relieved by her positive reaction.
Inko, watching the scene with shining eyes, clapped her hands softly. "What wonderful friends! Now everyone, sit down! Time to eat! Toast, eggs, and miso soup to start a hero's day off right!"
The breakfast table was a surreal scene. Inko served everyone with motherly enthusiasm, Toga examined her gifts with childish glee, and Ochako and Momo tried to act as normal as possible.
"So tell me, Toga-chan, did you sleep well on the couch?" Inko asked, pouring her a glass of orange juice.
Toga looked up, her smile turning sly. "Yes, it's very comfortable. Although Izuku-kun's bed looked much softer."
She winked at Izuku over her glass. He, halfway through a piece of toast, nearly choked for the second time that morning.
Ochako leaned toward him. "Deku-kun, are you sure about this?" she whispered, her voice full of worry. "Does your mom know… everything? About the knife and… well, everything else?"
"She knows enough," he whispered back. "She knows she's in trouble and needs help. She trusts her. And she trusts me."
Across the table, Momo was speaking to Toga in her usual analytical tone. "Your new garments should be suitable for the light training Midoriya-san has planned. I have included several breathable, quick-drying fabrics to optimize performance."
Toga grinned, a smile that was pure chaos. "Great. That way I can move better when I try to stab someone in the future…"
The look of panic on Ochako's face was instantaneous.
"Kidding, kidding!" Toga quickly added, laughing out loud. "Mostly."
After the strangest breakfast of their lives, it was time to leave. Izuku, Ochako, and Momo gathered their U.A. backpacks, the familiar routine feeling a bit odd in this new context.
"Well, we're off to school," Izuku announced, addressing Inko and Toga, who had stayed in the living room. "Mom, your Quirk training plan is on the fridge. Focus on the emotional control phase. Try to move the marble just by thinking about how happy the flower made you."
He turned to Toga, who was already examining one of the shirts Momo had brought her. "Toga, practice the voice mimicry we went over yesterday. But don't scare my mom, please. Don't pretend to be me asking for more dessert."
Inko walked over and planted a loud kiss on Izuku's cheek. "You be good at school. And no 'tactical analyses' of your classmates, young man."
"Mom!" he protested, blushing to the roots of his hair while Ochako and Momo tried to hide their smiles.
"Thank you for breakfast, Mrs. Midoriya!" the two girls said in unison, bowing.
As they stood at the door, Toga leaned against the frame, her arms crossed. Ochako's pink hoodie gave her a surprisingly innocent air.
"Have a good day, heroes!" she said with a little wave. "Don't let the bad guys bite you! Unless you want them to, of course."
Ochako, much more relaxed now, smiled back at her. "Take care of Mrs. Midoriya, Toga-chan."
Toga's smile softened, losing all of its edge. For just an instant, she looked like just a girl. "I will."
The three U.A. students stepped into the hallway and closed the door. As they walked toward the elevator, Izuku smiled. He imagined his mom offering Toga a plate of sliced apples; he saw the two of them, the woman who had given him life and the girl who had tried to take it, sitting together at the table and starting to talk.
Okay, he thought, as the elevator doors closed. A training team with two of the most incredible, promising girls in the class. A fugitive ex-villain with a blood addiction living on my couch and having breakfast with my mom. And me—her trainer, therapist, and, apparently, her morning ration.
He shook his head, a silent laugh escaping his lips.