Hero Trainer: Choke Me With Those Thighs!

They had left the room. The air in the hallway of Nemuri's apartment was intimate and calm, charged with the residual electricity of the science they had just performed. Izuku felt the skin on his hands still tingling, not just from the memory of her touch, but from the torrent of information that had flowed through him. Nemuri walked beside him, wrapped in an elegant silk robe, her usual bold confidence replaced by a thoughtful serenity.

"The manual was… more than I ever could have imagined," she said, breaking the silence as they reached the entryway. "Amnesia, hallucinations, the ability to walk through walls… It sounds like the Quirk of a top-tier villain, not an R-Rated Hero who just puts people to sleep."

"A Quirk is just a tool," Izuku replied, repeating one of his own maxims. "It's the user's intention that defines it. And your intention, Nemuri, has always been to protect. Now you just have more tools to do it."

She stopped at the front door and turned to him. The warm light of the entryway softened her features, making her look younger, more vulnerable.

"Thank you again, Izuku-kun. For everything. For listening… and for the hope."

A taxi, which she had already discreetly called while he was writing the manual, was waiting at the curb below. It was a thoughtful gesture, a way of telling him there were no other expectations for the night, that their time together had been exactly what it was: a genuine connection.

They said their goodbyes at the door. On an impulse that seemed to surprise even herself, she gave him a hug. It was a genuine, warm embrace, devoid of any seduction. It was the hug of a friend. She let go and gave him a soft, quick kiss on the cheek.

"We'll talk tomorrow, my little prodigy," she said with a warm smile. "Sleep well."

Izuku left, riding the elevator down and getting into the taxi, feeling as if he were floating several inches off the ground. The night had been so much more than he could have ever imagined. It hadn't been a simple date, or a training session. It had been… a revelation.

When Izuku got home, it was almost two in the morning. He expected to find the apartment dark and silent. Instead, a small lamp in the living room cast a dim light, and two figures were curled up on the sofa, pretending to watch a low-budget horror movie playing at a barely audible volume.

"You're late," Toga said without looking away from the screen, though there was no fear in her voice, only an expectant curiosity.

Inko turned, her eyes full of a maternal concern she couldn't hide. "Izuku? Is everything okay? It's so late. Did something happen?"

Izuku, feeling the trust of his innermost circle, dropped his backpack on the floor and sat in the armchair across from them.

"Did you get the deluxe manual, Izuku-kun?" Toga asked with a mischievous grin. "Or did she just give you the trial version with ads?"

He smiled, too tired and too full of emotion to blush. He told them, not the intimate details, but the essence of the night.

"I saw her manual," he began. "And I talked with her for hours. She's… incredible. Nothing like the hero you see on TV or in magazines."

He described his impressions, the woman behind Midnight's mask.

"She's much sweeter than she seems, very motherly. I think she'd get along great with you, Mom," he said, looking at Inko. "She has that same warmth, that way of making you feel safe. But at the same time, she's incredibly bold and isn't afraid to speak her mind, to challenge people. In that way, she reminded me a little of you, Toga. She's a fascinating woman… and I realized that, despite all her fame, she's very lonely."

Inko and Toga listened, fascinated. They weren't getting a hero report; they were getting a glimpse into a person's soul, through Izuku's compassionate eyes.

"Sounds like you like her a lot," Toga said, her tone softer now, less teasing.

"I respect her," he corrected. "I admire her. As a hero, and now… as a friend. She made me realize that even the greatest heroes, the symbols, have their own battles, their own doubts."

Inko smiled at him, her heart swelling with pride. Her son wasn't just getting stronger. He was getting wiser.

Izuku woke up the next morning not to his alarm, but to the gentle vibration of his phone. A new message.

Nemuri:

Good morning, my dear Izuku. Hope you slept well. 😉

A silly smile spread across Izuku's face.

Izuku:

Slept great. Thanks again for last night. For everything.

Nemuri:

The pleasure was all mine. Preparations for the internships start today. Don't push yourself too hard. And don't let Mt. Lady intimidate you. She's more bark than bite.

Izuku:

I'll keep that in mind. Have a great day, Nemuri!

Nemuri:

You too, Izuku-kun.

Their friendship was now a fact, a warm and comforting thread in the complex web of his life.

At breakfast, the full team was assembled. Ochako and Momo had arrived early, turning the Midoriya kitchen into their morning base of operations. The atmosphere was one of their new, chaotic normal. Toga was arguing with Toru about the best ice cream flavor, while Momo tried to explain the chemical composition of dairy products and Inko laughed, serving pancakes for everyone.

When they finished, they all got ready to head to U.A. Izuku, as always, said goodbye to his mother at the door. He gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"Be good and don't levitate the furniture," he joked.

Then, he paused. He looked at Toga, who was watching him with expectant curiosity from the living room. Over the past year, he had learned to analyze, to plan, to be a strategist. But the night before, with Nemuri, he had learned something else. He had learned that sometimes, honest audacity was the best strategy.

After a brief hesitation, a new, quiet confidence shone in his eyes. He walked over to Toga, who was surprised by his gesture. He leaned in and gave an astonished Toga a quick, affectionate kiss on the other cheek.

"Be good today, Toga. And drink plenty of water."

Toga froze for a second, a hand flying to her cheek, her yellow eyes wide. Then, a genuine, radiant smile, completely devoid of malice, lit up her face. Ochako, Momo, and Toru watched the scene, mouths agape at Izuku's boldness.

On the way to school, the girls peppered him with questions, whispering so other pedestrians wouldn't overhear.

"Izuku-kun!" Toru exclaimed, tugging on his sleeve. "Since when are you so bold! A goodbye kiss! It's like you're a real family!"

"It was very sweet, Deku-kun!" Ochako added, her face a little flushed. "But… are you sure it's a good idea… to normalize things with her so much?"

"Normalcy is exactly what she needs," Izuku answered, his voice calm and filled with a new, serene confidence. "And last night… was incredible. Talking with her, getting to know her for real… it was great. It made me realize that even though our team training is the most important thing, it's also good to have moments like that. Moments to truly connect."

He stopped for a moment on the sidewalk, making them turn to look at him. He looked at Ochako, Momo, and Toru, one by one, his green eyes filled with a sincerity that took their breath away.

"I'd like to have a similar moment with each of you someday," he said. "Time alone. Not talking about Quirks or villains or strategies. Just to get to know each other better. To talk about silly things, to laugh. Though for now, of course, we need to focus one hundred percent on training for the internships. But… I wanted you to know."

The three girls were speechless, completely blushing and moved by his honesty and his bold promise. It wasn't a confession of love to any one of them. It was something deeper. It was a declaration of friendship, of appreciation, of a desire to know them as people, not just as teammates.

"I…" Ochako started, not knowing what to say.

"We'd love that, Izuku-kun," Momo finished for her, with a small, warm smile.

Much later that day, in a private training gym at U.A.'s facilities, the space was silent, lit only by emergency lights. Nemuri Kayama stood in the center in comfortable training clothes, her eyes closed in deep concentration. Her face, free of makeup, was a mask of absolute focus. She could be heard talking to herself, reviewing the instructions Izuku had written for her, her voice a whispered mantra.

"Phase One: Composition Control," she murmured. "The manual said I could do it. It's not a scent. It's a formula. I have to feel the production on a molecular level. I have to visualize the change. Don't think 'sleep.' Think… calm. Relaxation."

She took a deep breath, channeling the sense of peace she had felt on her sofa, talking with Izuku. She concentrated on the glands in the palm of her hand, ordering them not to produce her usual compound, but to alter a single molecule in the chain.

Slowly, a small, almost invisible cloud of purple vapor emanated from her palm. It was much fainter than her usual aroma. With a hesitation that betrayed her nerves, she brought her hand to her nose and inhaled carefully.

An expression of absolute triumph, of pure, overwhelming joy, lit up her face.

It didn't smell like sleep. It didn't have that heavy, sweet undertone of her Quirk. It smelled faintly of lavender and chamomile. It was a completely different chemical composition. A scent designed not to knock out, but to soothe. She had done it.

An incredulous, happy laugh escaped her lips, filling the empty gym.

"It works," she whispered, looking at her own hand as if it were a miracle. "It really works."

She dropped to her knees on the mat, tears of relief and hope rolling down her cheeks.

"Thank you, Izuku-kun."