Trash Gym

After school, Izuku wasted no time. The moment the bell rang, he bolted out the classroom, offering a half-hearted wave to the teacher and ignoring the curious looks from his classmates. His small legs moved with purpose as he sped down the familiar route that curved toward Musutafu's forgotten corner—the trash beach.

A few minutes later, he stood at its edge. The sea breeze carried the stench of rust and decay, and the waves lazily lapped against piles of discarded metal, plastic barrels, shattered appliances, and rotten furniture. It was a graveyard of civilization's leftovers… and to Izuku, it was perfect.

He stepped forward, scanning the mess with sharp, calculating eyes.

' Alright… I don't think I can bring anything back home. Except maybe dumbbells and a hand grip, if I'm lucky. I'll have to train here in secret. ' he thought.

Izuku weaved through the trash, lifting bent pipes and kicking aside torn tarps. For the first few minutes, it was disappointing—empty water bottles, broken chair legs, rusted pans—but then… he found gold.

First, an intact pull-up bar welded into a fallen support beam. Then, an old stationary bike, only slightly bent on one side. Not far from it, he unearthed a crate with three adjustable dumbbells, some weight plates still attached. Nearby lay a dusty sit-up bench, its cushion half-torn but usable. It was as if fate had dropped an entire home gym into the sand, just waiting for someone to claim it.

' Jackpot. Guess this place'll be my gym now. ' he thought, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

With newfound energy, he began building.

He propped up old broken refrigerators to act as walls, stacking them in a square shape to block out the wind and give him privacy. He dragged a rusted, detached door over and leaned it at the front like a makeshift entrance. It took sweat, time, and all the strength his small frame could muster, but eventually, he stood back and stared at his creation with pride.

His secret gym.

' Yep… I'll be ripped before I know it. ' he thought confidently, wiping dirt off his cheek with the back of his sleeve.

Satisfied, he dusted himself off and jogged home just before sunset. Once there, he got changed, told his mom he was going out to play, and grabbed a water bottle before heading right back.

And then, the real grind began.

Under the fading light of the setting sun, Izuku began his workout drill. Pull-ups first—but he could barely manage two. Then squats, push-ups, sit-ups, even an attempt at running laps around his makeshift walls. His body screamed at him. His arms burned. His legs trembled with each rep. Sweat drenched his shirt, and his breathing grew ragged.

But he didn't stop.

Not once.

Hours passed until, at last, he collapsed onto the sand-covered ground, gasping for air. The cold wind hit his face, cooling his skin, and all he could do was lay there—utterly exhausted, but smiling.

' Yah… this is the beginning. ' he thought, eyes half-lidded as he stared at the orange sky overhead.

The road ahead was long. His body was weak. But he had knowledge, motivation, and now… a training ground.

And that was more than enough.

...

After that brutal workout, Izuku dragged his aching body home, his shirt soaked through and clinging to his skin, each step heavier than the last. His muscles throbbed, his breath burned, and it felt like gravity itself had doubled just for him.

When he finally slipped through the front door, he was quiet as a shadow. The house was dim and quiet, only the distant hum of a TV murmuring in the background. He crept through the hallway, careful not to alert anyone, and made it into the bathroom.

The second his body hit the steaming bathwater, he felt like he'd been reborn. The tension in his shoulders melted. The pain in his calves dulled. Even his thoughts slowed, lost in the haze of heat and exhaustion.

A breathy laugh escaped him, soft and bitter.

'No way I'm moving tomorrow,' he thought, slumping back into the tub, the world outside slipping away.

Then the door opened with a quiet creak.

He barely turned his head before she stepped in.

Inko

She stood in the doorway like she owned the room—towel draped casually over one arm, her other hand resting on her hip. The light from the hallway spilled over her, outlining every curve. Her hair was tied back, loose strands framing her sharp cheekbones and teasing her collarbone. But it was her eyes—smoky, amused, a little dangerous—that truly caught him.

'What the hell?' he blinked, caught off guard.

"You promised we'd save bath time together," she said, her voice velvet-smooth with a teasing pout.

Izuku chuckled weakly. "Sorry, kinda forgot," he admitted, eyes trailing down her frame without meaning to.

Inko smiled—but not the innocent kind. It was slow, knowing. "No matter," she said. "Move up."

And just like that, she let the towel fall.

Her body wasn't the kind worshipped in magazines—but it was the kind that left men speechless. Full, soft curves that invited touch. A natural, womanly thickness that exuded warmth and maturity. Her hips flared with effortless confidence, thighs plush and smooth, and her chest—round, heavy, and real—made the steam in the room feel even thicker.

She stepped into the tub gracefully, water rising around her as she lowered herself behind him. Without a word, she pulled Izuku back until his head rested against her chest. Her breasts, warm and pillowy, molded around him, cradling him like silk cushions.

His breath caught for a second—more from the heat of her skin than the bathwater.

As her arms lightly wrapped around his chest, Travis closed his eyes and let out a satisfied groan, his head gently bouncing with each breath she took.

'Yep... this is the life,' he thought, his lips curling into a lazy smile.

...

The next day, Izuku made his way to school as usual, his backpack bouncing lightly against his back. The morning sun bathed the streets of Musutafu in gold, but his focus was already ahead—on progress, on training, on the list of objectives that would shape his future.

And once again, just like the day before, he saw them.

Up ahead, huddled around a large tree, was Bakugo and his gang. The three of them were snickering, faces twisted with amusement as they hurled stones upward at something trapped in the branches.

Izuku squinted. A soft, terrified mew echoed through the air.

Up in the tree, clinging for dear life to a narrow branch, was a small orange kitten—its fur bristled, tail puffed out, and eyes wide with fear.

' What are these retards doing? ' Izuku wondered, already feeling his blood simmer.

Bakugo laughed loudly as one of the rocks narrowly missed the kitten. His two lackeys chimed in, enjoying the chaos like it was some playground sport.

' This is my chance. ' Izuku thought as he stepped forward, his expression calm but sharp.

"Not cool, guys," he said, voice flat and disappointed, standing just a few steps behind them.

They turned toward him, their amusement fading into mild surprise. Bakugo narrowed his eyes.

Izuku didn't stop to explain. He walked straight past them, placed his bag down, and began climbing the tree without hesitation.

His small hands gripped the rough bark, and despite his weak body, he moved quickly. Within seconds, he reached the kitten, gently grabbing it by the scruff as it whimpered softly. Then, without fear, he leapt down—landing clumsily, but keeping the kitten safe in his arms.

He looked up at Bakugo, eyes calm but filled with quiet disappointment.

"I thought you wanted to be a Hero, Kacchan," Izuku said, shaking his head slightly. The way he said it—not angry, not accusing, just sad—hit harder than any insult.

Then he turned and walked away, cradling the kitten like it was the most precious thing in the world.

Bakugo stood frozen.

His fists clenched at his sides, but not from anger.

' Wait… why do I feel bad? ' he thought, confused by the unfamiliar tightness in his chest.

He looked up again.

Izuku had knelt down by a nearby bush, where the kitten's mother—a larger calico—was waiting nervously. He placed the kitten down gently, and the two cats nuzzled each other with relieved purrs. A soft smile spread across Izuku's face.

Bakugo stared.

That smile… of doing something good for others, it lit something inside him.

[A/N: NOT THAT KIND OF FLAME!! MAN I HATE "THAT" SIDE OF THE MHA FANDOM]

Izuku stood tall, watching the cats for a moment longer before turning around. In his mind, a notification chimed, unseen by all but him. One of the invisible tasks on his mental checklist had just completed.

' Get in!! ' he thought triumphantly, his heart beating faster.

This wasn't just about strength. It was about character.

TO BE CONTINUED