Chapter 83: Stardust and Strategy

The limousine's interior was a luxurious tomb. The soft hum of the engine and the silent glide of the tires over the Tokyo asphalt were the only sounds in a space that, on the way there, had been filled with nervous laughter and excitement. Now, the silence was thick, bitter, and smelled of defeat.

Ochako stared out the tinted window, the city lights reflecting in her eyes without her truly seeing them. Momo kept her back perfectly straight, but her hands were clenched into fists in her lap. Toru was curled up in her corner, the shimmer of her emerald dress a cruel mockery of her somber mood. Izuku, sitting in the center, simply stared straight ahead, his mind replaying the night's events in an infinite loop.

It was Mt. Lady who broke the silence. With a sigh of contained frustration, she kicked off her stilettos, tossing them with surprising force onto the opposite seat, where they bounced off the leather with a dull thud. She ran a hand through her hair, messing up her perfect coif with a gesture of pure exasperation.

"Hours," she muttered to herself, but loud enough for everyone to hear, her voice stripped of all glamour. "Hours of planning. The perfect dress. The perfect event sponsor. The perfect headline in my head: 'Mt. Lady and Her Team of U.A. Prodigies Dismantle a Quirk-Tech Trafficking Ring at High-Society Gala.' It was poetic. It was marketable. It was pure gold."

She slumped back in her seat, staring at the ceiling.

"And it all goes down the drain because of an over-caffeinated rabbit with a lone ranger complex. Uncontrollable. Unpredictable. The worst possible variable."

"We did everything right..." Ochako said, her voice low and disheartened. "I was charming. I distracted the guards and the reporters. No one suspected a thing."

"My conversation with Taniguchi was about to give Toru a ten-minute window, maybe more," Momo added, her tone analytical but tinged with palpable frustration. "The logic of my approach was flawless. I was about to get him to confess his polymer supplier."

"And I was in," Toru whispered from her corner, her voice barely a thread. "I was a second away from getting it. And suddenly... it was all ruined. We failed."

The word "failed" hung in the air, heavy and ugly.

Izuku, who had remained silent, analyzing, finally spoke. His voice wasn't loud; it lacked the frantic energy he sometimes showed. It was calm, serene, and somehow, more authoritative than ever.

"The mission wasn't a failure."

Everyone turned to look at him, surprised by the quiet certainty in his tone. Mt. Lady raised an eyebrow, an expression of pure skepticism on her face.

"Excuse me?" she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Did you hit your head in there, my little prodigy? We lost the data. We lost the headline. We lost the chance to expose Taniguchi ourselves. In my book, and any professional's, that's called losing."

"With all due respect, Yu-san, your book is wrong," Izuku replied, undaunted.

The use of her first name left her speechless for a moment.

"The primary objective of the mission wasn't the headline," he continued, his logic simple and direct. "It wasn't for us to get the data. The primary objective was to stop Taniguchi and his illegal operations. Mirko got the data, and knowing her reputation, she's probably already leaked it anonymously to the police or a reliable media outlet. By tomorrow morning, Taniguchi's life will be a living hell. He's going down. The villain loses. That, in my book, is a win."

Mt. Lady's expression softened slightly, surprised by his perspective. She had been so focused on her agency's victory that she had lost sight of justice's victory. Izuku turned slightly in his seat to look at her directly, and the confidence Nemuri had seen in him shone brightly.

"Besides... you were incredible tonight."

She expected the obvious compliment about her dress, her fame, or how she handled the crowd. But what he said next caught her completely off guard.

"The way you handled the mayor and Mr. Takeda was a masterclass in social manipulation. You played your celebrity role perfectly, but with every smile, every gesture, every seemingly superficial comment, you were extracting information and, at the same time, feeding me data to analyze. It was... brilliant. The most subtle teamwork I've ever seen."

He paused, and a genuine, slightly goofy smile—the smile of the most honest Izuku—formed on his lips.

"And yes, you looked... wow. Absolutely spectacular. Seriously, the dress was incredible. But the most impressive thing wasn't the dress, but how you used your brain under it. That's what makes you a top-tier hero, not just a celebrity."

The compliment, acknowledging her beauty in such a direct, almost clumsy way, yet valuing her intelligence above all else, completely disarmed her. She just stared at him, a mix of amazement and a strange, warm feeling spreading through her chest. The girls, for their part, looked at him with a mixture of pride and unrestrained amusement. Their Izuku, the honest pervert, had struck again. And, as always, he'd hit the nail on the head.

Back at the agency, the atmosphere had completely changed. The frustration had dissipated, replaced by a sense of recontextualized victory. Mt. Lady didn't dismiss them; instead, she led them to her enormous panoramic office and went to a minibar elegantly hidden in a wall.

"The kid's right," she said, pulling out bottles of high-end ginger ale and crystal glasses. The sound of the fizzing liquid was the only one in the room. "One less villain on the streets. I guess that counts as a win. A very messy and unprofitable one, but a win nonetheless."

She handed a glass to Izuku first, with a genuine smile that no longer held a trace of her earlier frustration.

"You've got guts, Midoriya. And a sharp mind."

"I just... said what seemed obvious," he replied, a little self-conscious. "Your plan was perfect; the only variable we couldn't control was Mirko."

"Call me Yu," she insisted, her tone now closer. "And no, it wasn't obvious. Sometimes I get so caught up in the 'Mt. Lady' brand that I forget the hero's goal." She winked, her usual playful tone returning. "And you're not wrong, my brain is my best asset. Though my other assets are top-tier, too."

Izuku blushed, but this time he smiled instead of panicking.

"Y-yeah, that's pretty obvious, too."

Yu let out a genuine, loud laugh.

"I like you, kid. You're direct. Most people around me are either sycophants or idiots who can't hide it."

"So we did win after all!" Toru exclaimed, taking her glass cheerfully.

"I guess so," Ochako said, her discouragement completely gone. "Though I'd prefer it if next time, victory didn't depend on another elite hero almost breaking Toru-chan's neck."

The conversation turned lighter. They sat on the sofas, sipping their sodas, the mission's tension evaporating. Mt. Lady asked them about their Quirks, this time with genuine curiosity, not like a boss evaluating her subordinates, and gave them honest advice they wouldn't find in any textbook.

"Listen up, kids," she said, her tone turning serious again, that of a mentor. "The hero world isn't like the sports festival. It's not always about who's the strongest, but who tells the best story. The press, the sponsors, the public... they're always looking for a narrative."

Her gaze fell on each of them, one by one.

"You four... your story is teamwork. Unity. It's your greatest strength and your most marketable product. Nezu was right about you, Izuku. You're a force multiplier. Keep this team together; they're worth their weight in gold. And if you ever need advice on how to handle a vulture of a reporter or a stingy sponsor, my door is open."

As they said their goodbyes at the agency entrance much later, she ruffled Izuku's hair with an almost big-sisterly gesture. Their mutual respect had been forged in the chaos of a seemingly failed mission.

Izuku arrived home, exhausted but strangely satisfied. Toga was waiting for him, sprawled on the couch with her legs stretched out, pretending to watch a B-horror movie. She was wearing one of the pajama sets the girls had given her, which made her look absurdly normal.

"Well?" she asked without looking away from a rubber monster attacking a group of teenagers. "Did you get to 'analyze' the giant hero's 'great assets'?"

Izuku smiled, too tired to blush. He walked over to the couch.

"It was a win, in its own way," he said, his voice soft with exhaustion. "Taniguchi will fall. That's what matters."

With a natural, familiar motion, he gently lifted Toga's legs, sat down, and placed them back down, this time across his own lap. Surprised, she didn't protest. She readjusted, resting her head on a cushion as Izuku began to stroke her legs from ankle to knee, an absentminded, affectionate gesture as his gaze was lost in the movie.

"And you?" he asked quietly. "How was your day? Did you train with Mom?"

Toga glanced at him from the corner of her eye. The unexpected domesticity of the moment disarmed her. It felt... nice.

"Yeah," she replied, her playful tone softening. "Inko-san is a beast. Her control over that garbage tornado is terrifying. And my transformation... I managed to hold her eyes for almost ten seconds straight."

"That's amazing, Toga," he said, his thumb tracing circles on her calf. "You're improving so fast."

She smiled.

"Your mom says I'm getting prettier."

"She's not lying," he replied without thinking. "You look cuter every day. More... alive."

The compliment, so simple and sincere, sent a strange warmth spreading through Toga's chest. She turned to look at him better, her smile becoming genuine. He was no longer looking at her; he was completely absorbed in the movie, where a group of teenagers was making the brilliant decision to split up in a haunted forest.

"They're idiots," Izuku muttered, completely serious. "The first rule of team survival is to never split up."

Toga chuckled softly and rested her head back on the cushion, enjoying the warmth of his lap and the gentle rhythm of his touch. She felt safe. She felt at home.