Chapter 64: The Calm Before the Storm

The dull thud of Iida's phone hitting the floor seemed to linger in the air long after the nurses had taken him away. The infirmary, which moments before had been a nest of celebration and camaraderie, was now submerged in a dense, oppressive silence. The joy had disintegrated, leaving only a cold layer of shock and an unasked question that hung between them: What had happened?

Toru was the first to break the heavy veil of silence, her normally bubbly voice now a trembling whisper.

"I can't believe it… A villain… in Hosu. What kind of villain attacks a hero like Ingenium?"

Ochako, sitting on the edge of her chair, hugged herself.

"Iida was so proud of his brother. He always talked about him, about how he was the perfect hero, a role model… To see him like that, so broken…" Her voice broke at the end.

Momo, standing by the window, watched the stadium illuminated by the sunset's lights. Her analytical mind searched for a logical foothold amidst the emotional chaos.

"Hosu has a strong hero presence. For a single villain to be able to incapacitate someone of Ingenium's caliber is… alarming. It must be someone with an incredibly powerful Quirk or exceptional combat skill."

"But who would do something like that?" Toru asked, her invisibility almost seeming to waver with the intensity of her anguish. "And why? Just for the sake of evil?"

The atmosphere was becoming charged with a contagious anxiety, a spiral of "what ifs" and terrible scenarios. Izuku, who had remained lying down in silence, processing the harsh reality that had shattered the festive mood, finally spoke. His voice wasn't loud, but it had a firmness that cut through the growing hysteria.

"Enough."

The three girls turned to look at him, surprised by his sharp tone.

"Worrying now isn't going to change what happened in Hosu," he continued, his gaze fixed and serious. "Our minds are our best tool. If we cloud them with anguish and speculation about something hundreds of miles away, we'll be useless. To ourselves, and to Iida when he needs us."

"But, Izuku-kun…" Ochako began, "he's our friend…"

"And precisely because he's our friend, we must stay calm," Izuku interrupted her, softening his tone slightly. "Iida's brother is strong. I remember reading about him, how he single-handedly stopped a bullet train robbery two years ago. He's not a hero who goes down easily. I trust him and the doctors. He'll be okay." He paused, making sure his words sank in. "What Iida needs now isn't for us to fall apart with him, but for us to keep moving forward. To show him that the festival, that his effort and ours, weren't in vain. Let's drop the subject for now. Please."

The girls exchanged glances and then nodded slowly. There was a cold but undeniable logic in Izuku's words. He was the central figure at that moment, the pillar keeping them from crumbling.

Silence returned, but this time it was different. It was a silence of acceptance, of renewed focus. Izuku then turned to Momo, and all the hardness in his face vanished, replaced by a genuine warmth that took her by surprise. He gently took her hand, the one that wasn't bandaged, and with a delicacy that contrasted with the rawness of the moment, he placed a light kiss on her knuckles.

"You were magnificent, Yaoyorozu," he said in a low voice, just for her.

Momo felt a warmth spread from her hand up her arm, settling directly in her chest.

"I… thank you, Midoriya-kun," she stammered, a blush blooming on her cheeks.

"No, I'm serious," he insisted, his green eyes shining with admiration. "Your battle was more than impressive; it was a masterclass. The way you didn't just create a wall, but transformed the ring into a trajectory calculation problem… You forced Iida to make split-second decisions, and every hesitation, every change of direction, was time that you gained. You didn't just stop his speed, you turned it into his greatest weakness."

He continued, his voice filled with the passion of an analyst describing a work of art.

"And the final trap… the adhesive to neutralize his Recipro Burst and the catapults with the nets… it was a perfectly executed three-phase strategy. That isn't just using a Quirk smartly. That, Yaoyorozu, is the ingenuity of a true strategist."

Momo was speechless. Despite her decisive, one-sided victory against Tokoyami, where she had already demonstrated her strategic ability, hearing such a detailed analysis and absolute praise from the person she respected most intellectually validated her intellect in a way that mere victory could not.

"N-No one has ever described it like that… Thank you. Really, thank you, Izuku." The use of his first name slipped out unintentionally, in a whisper thick with emotion.

Izuku smiled at her, a smile that told her he had noticed and that it was okay. Then, he looked up at the others, his pride expanding to encompass them all. The pain in his torso was a constant reminder of his own limits, but it couldn't overshadow the immense satisfaction he felt for them.

"And not just her. I'm incredibly happy for all of you," he said, his voice vibrating with a sincerity that moved them. He readjusted himself against the pillows, wincing slightly in pain. "Toru, what you did against Aoyama was brilliant. You faced an opponent with overwhelming long-range offensive power and completely neutralized him. You used your invisibility and agility not to hide, but to evade every one of his lasers and close the distance until his Quirk was useless. That's battlefield control."

Toru, though invisible, seemed to swell with pride.

"Hee hee! Thanks, Izuku-kun! I knew you'd notice!"

"And Ochako…" Izuku continued, turning his attention to her. "Against Bakugo. Everyone, including him, underestimated you. But you completely dominated him. You won by using your agility and a flawless strategy to make him destroy the ring himself, and then you used the debris against him. You didn't just stand toe-to-toe with his power, you surpassed it. You beat him."

Ochako looked down, her cheeks pink with praise.

"I did what I could…"

"You did more than that," Izuku affirmed. He leaned back completely, a sigh of genuine exhaustion escaping his lips. "Seeing your achievements… I wish I could have beaten my opponent too. Todoroki is on another level. I gave it my all, and still… it wasn't enough." The note of melancholy in his voice was palpable. "But I guess I can't ask for more. Being here, watching you all succeed… being surrounded by such amazing girls… that's more than enough for me."

It was then that Ochako stepped forward. Her expression was no longer one of shyness, but of a resolve forged in fire.

"You're wrong. There's still a way for you to defeat Shoto."

Izuku looked at her, confusion clear on his face.

"What are you talking about, Ochako? My match is over."

"Mine isn't," she replied, her voice firm and without a trace of doubt. "And you and I are going to defeat him. Together." The meaning of her words fell upon the room, charged with an unmistakable intimacy. "He asked for it himself. He yelled at me to give him everything I had, not to hold back. And you, Izuku… you are a part of my strength. The most important part."

The air became electric. Izuku stared at her, a storm of emotions reflected in his eyes: surprise, gratitude, a deep and overwhelming affection.

"Ochako… that's your fight. Your chance to make it to the finals. Are you completely sure about this?"

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life," she answered, her gaze burning with a conviction that allowed no argument. "You broke the ice that imprisoned him. I'm going to finish the job."

That was the turning point. Without another word, Momo moved with quiet efficiency. She went to the infirmary door and turned the lock; the metallic click sounded unnaturally loud in the still room. Then, from the palm of her hand, she materialized a small, smooth, black spherical device, which upon activation emitted a nearly inaudible hum. A signal and surveillance jammer.

Toru, for her part, let out a choked squeak.

"Ah! I won't look! I promise!" She covered her eyes with both hands and quickly turned to face the wall, like a child caught misbehaving.

Ochako turned to face Izuku. Her heart pounded against her ribs, a mixture of nervousness and a strange, powerful euphoria. With slow, deliberate, almost reverent movements, her fingers found the zipper on the top of her hero costume. The sound of the zipper sliding was the only noise in the room. She was blushing, a deep crimson that rose from her neck to her ears, but her eyes shone with an enthusiastic fire that eclipsed any embarrassment.

She removed the garments one by one, folding them carefully before setting them aside. And then, she was exposed before him, her bare torso bathed in the soft light of the infirmary. Her breasts were firm and round, crowned by delicate pink nipples that had hardened from the mix of cold and arousal. For an instant, instinct betrayed her and her arms moved to cover herself, but she stopped. She remembered her purpose, the conviction in her heart, and lowered her hands, showing herself to him in all her vulnerable and determined glory.

Izuku, limited in his movements by the bandages and pain, did the only thing he could. He extended his uninjured arm and gently drew her toward him, urging her onto the bed. Ochako complied, and the contact of her warm, soft skin against his bandaged torso sent an electric jolt through them both.

He caressed her face, his fingers tracing her jawline.

"Ochako…"

She silenced his words with a kiss. A kiss that started tender but quickly deepened, becoming hungry, desperate. It was an exchange of everything they couldn't say: gratitude, trust, desire. Izuku's other hand, which had been resting on the small of her back, moved up to cup one of her breasts. The contact sent a deeper moan through her, a vibration that started in her throat and seemed to run through her entire body.

They broke apart for air, their foreheads resting against each other. But Izuku wasn't finished. To Ochako's surprise and delight, he leaned in, his face descending into the valley of her breasts. His hot, wet lips explored her skin with a devotion that made her tremble. He sucked and licked at the sensitive skin, moving in slow, torturous circles from the base of her breasts to her areolas.

"Ahh… Mmmh… Izuku…"

His name was a lustful sigh. She arched against him instinctively, pushing her pelvis against his leg in a rhythmic, primal friction. Izuku accepted her non-verbal invitation, his mouth finally finding one of the hardened nipples. He took it between his lips, licking, sucking, and biting lightly, alternating the pressure, driving her wild with pleasure. Ochako's moans grew bolder, less contained.

Izuku's free hand left her breast and began a slow, deliberate descent. His fingers traced a path of fire over her skin, past her flat stomach, around her navel, and heading ever lower, toward the core of her desire.

Ochako held her breath, her body tense with anticipation. She was on the precipice, ready to fall. Just as Izuku's fingers were about to brush against their target…

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.

The three knocks on the door were sharp, loud, and impersonal. A brutal intrusion into their bubble of intimacy.

"Miss Uraraka! The final match of the second block is about to begin! You need to head to the arena, please!"

The voice, amplified and emotionless from a stadium official, was like a bucket of ice water. Ochako froze, and then a sigh of deep frustration escaped her lips. For one glorious, dizzying moment, she had completely forgotten the reason for all this: the festival, the fight, Todoroki.

She looked at Izuku, and in his eyes was a clear resignation, a longing to stay right where she was. He gave her a small, conspiratorial smile and leaned in for one last kiss. It was short, but loaded with all the intensity of the previous minutes.

"Don't hold back," he whispered, his voice a low, powerful murmur. "Destroy him. Avenge me."

Ochako nodded, her determination returning like a tide. She got up and dressed with swift, efficient movements, her body still vibrating from the experience. With one last look at Izuku, she went to the door, opened it, and walked out without looking back.

Momo and Toru remained in their spots for several more seconds. When they finally turned, both of their faces were such a deep red they looked feverish. They looked at each other, and in their eyes was a mutual understanding.

They had heard everything. The choked moans Ochako couldn't suppress. The wet sounds of kisses that were clearly not on the lips. The frantic, desperate rhythm of two bodies moving together. They knew, with an absolute certainty that twisted their stomachs and quickened their own hearts, that what had just happened in that infirmary was no longer a simple power-up for a fight. It had become something much deeper, much more personal, much more intimate. And the implications of that were as terrifying as they were thrilling.