Hero Trainer: Choke Me With Those Thighs!

The next morning, the air on the path to U.A. was crisp and vibrated with a new normal. Izuku, Ochako, and Momo walked together; their trio had become a morning routine as natural as coffee. The tension from the previous day seemed to have dissipated, replaced by a comfortable camaraderie.

"I dreamed last night that Toga convinced me to use my Quirk to steal a truck full of mochi," Ochako said, letting out a nervous giggle. "She swore it was a 'stealthy acquisition exercise.' Your life is contagious, Deku."

Momo, walking beside them with her usual elegance, considered the idea with surprising seriousness. "Logistically, it would be a low-risk operation if planned properly. Negating the vehicle's gravity would reduce noise and allow for a vertical extraction, avoiding conventional traffic routes. Though it would be morally reprehensible, of course."

Izuku grinned, jotting something in his notebook as they walked. "Noted for future stealth training! But first things first, girls: surviving Present Mic's English class. Now that's a high-risk mission."

Their light chatter was cut short when they rounded the final corner before the school's entrance. They ran into a wall. A human wall of cameras, microphones, and desperate reporters.

"There are some students!" "Kids, a word!"

A swarm of journalists instantly surrounded them, their questions a chaotic torrent. "What are classes with All Might like?!" "Is he as inspiring as he looks on TV?!" "Give us a headline, green-haired kid!"

Izuku surveyed the scene, his mind instantly shifting from friend mode to "Coach" mode. He saw their eager faces, their microphones extended like weapons. "They're desperate," he whispered to the girls, his voice a low, firm murmur. "They're not looking for an interview; they're looking for a weakness. A sentence they can take out of context. Don't say anything that could compromise All Might's safety or reputation."

Momo nodded, her face a mask of cold disapproval. "Their insistence is irrational. It borders on harassment."

A particularly aggressive reporter, holding a microphone with a sensationalist news channel's logo, pushed her way to the front, right in front of Izuku. "What's the Symbol of Peace like as a teacher? The public has a right to know!"

Before Izuku could offer a neutral reply, a tired, familiar voice cut through the air. "Get out of here. You're disrupting class and blocking the entrance."

Shota Aizawa had appeared, his usual lack of energy on full display, stepping between the students and the press. "We just need one comment!" the reporter insisted, trying to get around him. "You've had your comment: leave," Aizawa said, his tone dangerously flat.

Ignoring him, the reporter took a step forward, her foot crossing the invisible threshold of the campus entrance. In that instant, a deafening, metallic sound filled the air. U.A.'s giant metal barrier, the famous "Iron Gate," slammed shut with terrifying speed, descending from above and rising from the ground simultaneously. It sealed with a final CLANG that vibrated the ground, stopping just inches from the reporter's nose.

She froze, her eyes wide with shock. Aizawa turned and, without another word, walked away, leaving the press shouting in frustration on the other side of an impregnable fortress.



The relative calm of classroom 1-A was shattered when Aizawa, from the comfort of his yellow sleeping bag on the floor, spoke in his monotonous voice. "Alright, before we start today's lecture… there's an important matter to settle. You need to elect a class representative."

The room, which had been half-asleep, exploded into a frenzy of enthusiasm. "I want to be the representative!" "Pick me! I'll be an awesome leader!"

Nearly every student shot their hand up, shouting for attention. Amid the chaos, Tenya Iida stood, his arm held rigidly in the air. "SILENCE, PLEASE!" his baritone voice managed to cut through for a moment. "This is a position of great responsibility! It should not be decided by a popularity contest, but by pure meritocracy! I suggest this momentous decision be made in the most democratic way possible! I propose a vote to elect the leader we deem most fit to guide us!"

Kaminari leaned back in his chair. "Dude, that's a nice idea, but if we all vote, isn't everyone just going to vote for themselves?"

"Precisely!" Iida retorted, his glasses glinting. "That is why it is a perfect system! The person who, despite this, receives multiple votes will have demonstrated an inherent charisma or earned the trust of their peers, which makes them worthy of the position! It is the ultimate test of leadership!"

The logic was strange, but sound. The vote was held. Each student wrote a name on a slip of paper. When Aizawa tallied the votes on the board, the result was surprising.

Izuku Midoriya - 3 Votes Momo Yaoyorozu - 2 Votes

Izuku stared at the board, blinked, and let out a sigh. "Oh, great. More responsibility."

He said it with an ironic half-smile, not the overwhelming panic he might have felt months ago. Beside him, Bakugo didn't take it so well. "WHAT?!" he exploded from his seat, small sparks crackling in his palms. "THREE VOTES?! WHY THE HELL IS THAT DAMN HANDSY NERD GETTING VOTES?! WHO WAS THE IDIOT WHO—?!"

Izuku leaned toward Ochako. "I guess my 'tactical hands for victory' platform was more popular than I thought," he whispered.

Ochako muffled a laugh in her hand. "Don't be silly."

Aizawa, unfazed, announced the results. "Then it's settled. The class representative is Midoriya. And the deputy rep is Yaoyorozu."

Momo stood, her natural elegance intact despite her surprise. "I accept the responsibility. I promise to serve the class with logic and maximum efficiency."

All eyes turned to Izuku. He stood up, scratching the back of his neck, an expression of humble acceptance on his face. "Well, I guess I'll do what I can. My specialty is individualized training, not leading twenty people with… explosive personalities," he said, shooting a sideways glance at Bakugo. "But… thanks for the trust. I'll try not to let you down."

His tone wasn't insecure. It was that of a coach accepting a new, complicated team.



The U.A. cafeteria was a sea of noise and food smells. Izuku's group had grown. Now, in addition to Ochako, Momo had joined their table, and Iida, to everyone's surprise, had also sat with them. "I'm still not sure I have what it takes for this, Iida," Izuku admitted, poking a piece of fish with his chopsticks. "Leading means making decisions for the good of the group, and I'm more used to giving direct and… very specific orders."

He thought of his methods with the girls, and a light blush dusted his cheeks.

"Don't underestimate yourself, Midoriya!" Iida replied with his usual vehemence. "I voted for you myself!"

Ochako and Izuku stared at him, surprised.

"Your ability to deduce the true purpose of the entrance exam and your tactical brilliance in combat training demonstrate a superior strategic mind!" Iida continued, his hands chopping through the air. "A true leader isn't always the one who shouts the loudest, but the one who sees the path to victory!"

"Wow, Iida!" Ochako said, curious. "You're super serious and formal all the time. With all this talk of responsibility and leadership… are you from a rich family or something?"

The question was blunt, but Iida didn't seem offended. He adjusted his glasses, and his usual stiffness was replaced by a more solemn expression. "Rich, yes. My family has been blessed with success. But more importantly, I come from a family of heroes. A long line of them. My brother, Tensei Iida, is a hero you may know: the Turbo Hero, Ingenium."

Izuku's eyes lit up with the unmistakable glint of a fanboy. "Ingenium? Of course I know him! He's incredible! His agency in Tokyo employs dozens of sidekicks! He's a natural-born leader and his suit is a masterpiece of engineering! Being his brother must be enormous pressure!"

Iida nodded, a rare, small smile of pride on his face. "It is. And I aspire to live up to his legacy. Tensei is the epitome of what a hero should be. That is why I value leadership, structure, and honor so highly. And that is why, Midoriya, I entrusted you with my vote."

Before Izuku could respond, overwhelmed by the compliment, it happened. A deafening, shrill, and alarming siren began to wail throughout the school. A robotic voice, devoid of emotion, boomed from the cafeteria's speakers: "SECURITY ALERT LEVEL 3. AN INTRUSION HAS BEEN DETECTED ON CAMPUS. ALL STUDENTS, EVACUATE IN AN ORDERLY FASHION."

The chaos was instantaneous. The words "orderly fashion" were completely ignored. Hundreds of students from all years screamed, flipped tables, and rushed in a massive stampede toward the exits. A human bottleneck formed in the hallways, a mass of bodies pushing and shouting. "Get out of the way!" "It's a villain attack!"

Iida leaped to his feet. "FELLOW STUDENTS, REMAIN CALM! PANIC WILL ONLY WORSEN THE SITUATION!"

But his voice, however loud, was lost in the cacophony of terror. In the midst of the chaos, Izuku saw Ochako, smaller than most, being pushed and dragged by the crowd, about to be crushed against a wall. His "Coach" instinct fired up. Adrenaline washed away his own fear.

He turned to Momo, who was beside him, her face pale but alert. "Momo, I need a favor! Quick!" he yelled to be heard over the noise. "What do you need?" she replied, her trust in him overriding her panic. "A megaphone! Simple, functional, with a good grip! Use the basic design we practiced for simple objects! NOW!"

Momo didn't hesitate. The skin on her arm rippled, and in less than a second, a bright red megaphone sprouted from her skin. It was the fastest, most fluid creation she had ever made. She tossed it to Izuku. But Izuku didn't use it. He forced his way through the crowd until he reached Ochako and grabbed her by the waist. "Uraraka, get on my shoulders! Trust me!"

Without waiting for an answer, he lifted her with the ease his training had given him. In an instant, she was sitting on his shoulders, above the tide of heads. He passed her the megaphone. "Tell them it's just the press!" he shouted, his voice firm and full of authority. "Use a calm voice, like when you meditate! Use your nice-girl voice! You can calm them down!"

Ochako, terrified a second before, was infected by Izuku's iron will. She grabbed the megaphone. She took a deep breath. And her voice, amplified, clear, and surprisingly calm, rang out across the cafeteria. "EVERYONE! PLEASE, EVERYBODY, CALM DOWN!"

The stampede faltered. A few heads turned toward the girl sitting on the green-haired boy's shoulders. "THERE'S NO DANGER!" she continued, her voice gaining confidence. "LOOK OUT THE WINDOWS! IT'S JUST THE REPORTERS FROM THIS MORNING! THE BARRIER CLOSED AND IT TRIGGERED THE ALARM! THERE ARE NO VILLAINS! WE'RE SAFE!"

The stampede stopped. The students looked at each other, confused. Then, they followed her instruction and looked out the huge windows. They saw the swarm of reporters on the other side of the main gate. The relief was a palpable wave that washed over the cafeteria. The panic dissolved into embarrassed murmurs.

Iida, who had been unable to make himself heard, stared at Izuku and Ochako in absolute awe. He saw a leader who didn't impose orders, but instead coordinated, empowered, and solved the problem by using the strengths of his team.

Back in the classroom, once the police arrived and dispersed the press, Iida approached Izuku's desk. "Midoriya," he said, giving a formal bow. "Your performance in the cafeteria was… exceptional. Not only did you remain calm, but you brilliantly utilized your classmates' resources to resolve the crisis. You have proven, without a doubt, that you are the representative this class needs. You have my full and absolute support."

Izuku smiled, a little embarrassed but deeply satisfied. "It was teamwork, Iida. That's what it's all about, right?"

There was no resignation. There was no transfer of power. Izuku Midoriya had earned his position.



In the U.A. staff meeting room, the atmosphere was anything but calm. Principal Nezu, Aizawa, All Might, and other teachers watched the security footage of the main gate on a giant screen. "The main barrier wasn't forced," Nezu said, his voice calm and calculating as he sipped his tea. "It was disintegrated. A clean cut, at a molecular level. Too clean and too precise for a simple reporter's Quirk." "So, a villain infiltrated," Aizawa growled, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep. "They snuck in, disintegrated the gate to create chaos, and let the press in to cover their retreat." "This was not a simple intrusion," Nezu said, his reflection visible on the screen, his normally cheerful eyes now hard as steel. "It was a deliberate act. A message to show us our vulnerability. An adversary has tested us."

All Might, in his skeletal form, leaned forward. "What do you mean, Principal?"

Nezu swiveled his chair to face them, his small paws barely touching the floor. "I am wondering," he said, his voice an ominous whisper that chilled everyone present to the bone, "if this was a declaration of war."