My Hero Academia: Heavenly Restriction

Adjusts glasses and grins at the screen

Hey everyone! Wisteria here, finally back from my much-needed mini-break. First off, I need to address something absolutely insane that happened while I was away. Over SIX THOUSAND powerstones? Are you all trying to give me a heart attack? clutches chest dramatically while spinning in office chair

I had to check the numbers three times because I couldn't believe my eyes. Then I made my boyfriend check them. Then I had to lie down for a bit because... wow. Just wow. You beautiful, wonderful readers have completely blown me away. I mean, I thought we might hit 5000 if we were lucky, but 6000+? falls out of chair

scrambles back up, adjusting Stitch onesie

Seriously though, take a bow. All of you. This is absolutely unprecedented and I don't think we'll ever see numbers like this again. Like, ever. I'm still processing it. Every time I look at the counter, I have to pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming.

So! pulls out notebook covered in butterfly stickers Let's talk about what this means for this week's chapter schedule. As promised, we'll have our regular uploads on Sunday, Wednesday, and Friday. But because you absolutely demolished the powerstone challenge...

drums fingers on desk for dramatic effect

We're getting a max of FIVE bonus chapters this week! Five! And I promise to stick to that maybe….

Now, for this week's challenge... adjusts glasses nervously Though I really don't think we'll hit anything close to 6000 again (seriously, you all are crazy in the best possible way), let's keep our usual system: 750 powerstones = 1 bonus chapter, max of 5 chapters.

glances at calendar

Oh! Almost forgot - today is Sunday, which means your first regular chapter is coming up right after this little chat. And can I just say? wiggles excitedly in chair You're going to love what happens next. I may have spent my break plotting some particularly juicy scenes...

pulls hood up, Stitch ears flopping adorably

Before I let you get to the actual story, I just want to say again - thank you. Not just for the powerstones, but for being the most amazing readers anyone could ask for. Your theories, your comments, your enthusiasm... it makes all the late nights and ink-stained fingers worth it.

stands up and bows formally

You've truly gone Plus Ultra with your support, and I promise to match that energy with these upcoming chapters. Though seriously, 6000? shakes head in amazement You're all absolutely mad and I love you for it.

Now, let me just get my notes in order... shuffles through paper stack, few sheets floating to floor ...and we can get back to our regularly scheduled chaos. 

===

Momo stared at the mountain of discarded outfits on her bed. Designer labels worth more than some people's monthly rent lay strewn across imported silk sheets, yet nothing felt right. Her fingers twisted the hem of her robe as she paced the expansive bedroom.

"Kuroka-san, this is impossible."

The head maid's cat ears twitched in amusement. "Yaoyorozu-sama, you've faced villains. Surely choosing an outfit isn't beyond your capabilities."

"Villains are straightforward. This is..." Momo trailed off, remembering Camie's words from that day in the locker room.

"You like him."

"I- that's not-"

"It's okay." Camie's smile held no judgment. "Just remember - I'm first. Always. But if you want to explore something..." She'd winked. "Well, I'm not the jealous type."

Momo's cheeks burned at the memory. The implications, the possibilities... No. That was entirely improper. And yet...

"Yaoyorozu-sama?" Kuroka held up a cream-colored turtleneck. "Perhaps something casual but refined?"

"Yes." Momo seized the distraction. "Though the vertical ribbing might be too formal for a study session."

"Study session?" Kuroka's tail swished knowingly. 

"It's a strategic meeting to discuss the Sports Festival." The defense sounded weak even to her ears. "Midoriya-kun and Utsushimi-san are simply hosting because he's still recovering."

"Of course." Kuroka's expression remained neutral, but her ears betrayed her amusement. "And the fact that you've tried on seventeen outfits is purely professional consideration."

Momo sank onto the edge of her bed. "Is it that obvious?"

"Only to those who know you well." Kuroka's voice softened. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to look nice for someone special."

"He's not- I mean, they're both-" Momo buried her face in her hands. "It's complicated."

"Life often is." Kuroka moved to the closet, emerging with black pants and a pearl bracelet. "But perhaps we can start with something simple."

An hour later, Momo studied her reflection. The cream turtleneck complemented the black pants perfectly, while vintage glasses with pink-tinted lenses softened her features. Gold triangle earrings caught the light when she moved, and a white headband kept her hair elegantly in place.

"There." Kuroka adjusted the pearl bracelet on Momo's wrist. "Professional enough for strategy, stylish enough to catch attention."

"You think it'll work?" The question slipped out before she could stop it.

"I think," Kuroka said carefully, "that you're overthinking things."

"Right." Momo gathered her notes and tablet, trying to quiet the storm in her mind. "Thank you for your help."

"Always." Kuroka paused at the door. "And Yaoyorozu-sama? Good luck."

The words followed Momo down the mansion's grand staircase. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she slid into the back of the family car. This was just a strategy meeting. Nothing more.

Momo closed her eyes, forcing her breathing to steady. She was Yaoyorozu Momo, Class 1-A's Vice President. This was about the Sports Festival. Strategy. Leadership.

Not the way Midoriya's eyes crinkled when he smiled. Not how Camie's offer sparked something both terrifying and thrilling in her chest. Not the impossible, improper, intoxicating idea of...

"We're here, Yaoyorozu-sama."

She opened her eyes to see a modest apartment building. Somewhere up there, they were waiting. Together.

"Thank you." Her voice remained steady as she gathered her things. "I'll call when I need pickup."

Strategy meeting. Sports Festival. Leadership responsibilities.

The elevator dinged.

Just breathe, she told herself. One step at a time.

She raised her hand to knock, acutely aware of her racing pulse and the pearl bracelet catching the hallway light.

Whatever happens, she thought, happens.

Her knuckles met the door.

"Coming!" 

======

Five minutes earlier

I scrubbed at a particularly stubborn spot of pancake batter on the counter. "You know, when you said 'let's make breakfast', I thought there'd be more actual cooking involved."

"We made pancakes, fam." Camie perched on the kitchen island, legs swinging. My compression shirt looked unfairly good on her. "Eventually."

"After restarting three times because someone kept distracting me."

"Excuse you, but that first batch burned because you got touchy with the spatula."

"The spatula was innocent." I flicked soap suds at her. "You're the one who decided my neck needed attention while I was flipping pancakes."

She caught my wrist, tugging me closer. "Your neck always needs attention, Izu."

The familiar warmth of her touch sent pleasant shivers down my spine. We'd been up late "exercising", as she put it, and my body still felt every second. Queen had done an amazing job healing my injuries from USJ, but Camie insisted on making sure everything worked properly. 

Multiple times.

Focus. I was supposed to be resting, not getting distracted by how the black fabric hugged her curves or how her stockings disappeared under those tiny shorts.

"When's Yaomomo supposed to get here anyway?" Camie's fingers traced idle patterns on my forearm.

I checked the clock. "Soon. We should probably-"

Her lips found that spot below my ear. "Probably what?"

"You're impossible." But I was already turning into her touch, hands settling on her waist.

"Impossible hot, you mean." She grinned against my skin. "Besides, you started it with that tank top."

"It's my clothes."

"Our clothes." She nipped playfully at my jaw. "And this is my shirt now."

"That's my workout gear."

"Looks better on me."

Hard to argue with that logic. Especially when she was right. The long sleeves made her seem smaller, more delicate - which was hilarious given how thoroughly she'd proven otherwise last night.

"You're thinking about it," she said smugly.

"About how you stole my favorite compression shirt? Yes."

Her legs wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer. "Not what I meant and you know it."

I caught her hands before they could wander. "Yaoyorozu will be here any minute."

"We've got time."

"That's what you said about the pancakes."

"And they turned out fine."

"After three attempts."

She pouted. "You weren't complaining earlier when-"

A knock at the door cut her off.

"Saved by the bell." I tried to step back, but her legs tightened.

"Izu." Her voice dropped to that dangerous purr. "You've got something..."

Before I could react, she'd yanked me forward, tongue darting out to lick a spot of pancake batter off my neck. The sensation shot straight through me, and it took every ounce of self-control not to...

Another knock.

"Coming!" I called out, voice embarrassingly rough.

Camie released me with a wicked grin. "Not yet, but maybe later."

"You're evil."

"You love it." She hopped off the counter, stretching in a way that made the shirt ride up. "Want me to get the door?"

"Absolutely not." I grabbed a dish towel to dry my hands. "Behave."

"No promises, fam."

I shook my head, heading for the door. My tank top had a few suspicious water spots from dishes, but it would have to do. At least the kitchen was mostly clean now, even if certain counters would need more thorough attention later.

I opened the door to find Yaoyorozu in what had to be the most carefully coordinated casual outfit I'd ever seen. The cream turtleneck alone probably cost more than my monthly rent.

"Midoriya-kun." She bowed slightly. "Thank you for hosting despite your recovery."

"Ah, it's no trouble." I stepped back to let her in. "I'm fully healed thanks to Queen, just under orders to take it easy for a few days."

"Which he's terrible at," Camie called from the kitchen. "But I'm helping."

Yaoyorozu's cheeks pinked slightly. Probably from the walk up. The elevator needed fixing.

"Please, come in." I gestured toward the living room. "Would you like tea? We just finished breakfast, but I can-"

"Yo, Yaomomo!" Camie appeared in the kitchen doorway, hip cocked against the frame. "Looking fresh. That Chanel?"

"Ah, no, it's..." Yaoyorozu smoothed invisible wrinkles from her pants. "Just something simple."

Camie's knowing smirk suggested there was something I was missing, but that wasn't unusual. For someone who specialized in illusions, she had an uncanny ability to see through people.

"Make yourself comfortable," I said, gesturing to the couch. "I'll get drinks."

"I can help-" Yaoyorozu started.

"Nah, let him." Camie flopped onto the couch. "Izu makes the best tea. It's like, his thing. Gets it from his mom."

I headed to the kitchen, going through the familiar motions of tea preparation. Mom had drilled proper technique into me since I could walk - water temperature, steeping time, the right balance of flavors. The routine helped settle my thoughts after that morning's... distractions.

The kettle hummed as I arranged cups on the serving tray, selecting the set Mom had given us as a housewarming gift. Simple ceramic with a subtle wave pattern. Nothing fancy like what Yaoyorozu probably used at home, but they held memories of late-night conversations and quiet mornings.

"Need any help?" Camie's voice carried from the living room.

"I've got it." I measured the sencha carefully. "You two talk strategy."

Their voices mixed with the sound of papers rustling. Camie's lazy drawl contrasted with Yaoyorozu's precise tones as they discussed previous Sports Festivals. I caught fragments about obstacle courses and cavalry battles while the tea steeped.

When I returned with the loaded tray, they'd spread notes across the coffee table. Yaoyorozu sat ramrod straight, tablet balanced on her knee, while Camie sprawled across the other end of the couch. My compression shirt had ridden up slightly on her thigh. I kept my eyes firmly on the tea as I set everything down.

"The floor's fine," I said before Yaoyorozu could offer to move. I settled onto the cushion by the low table, pouring three cups with practiced motions.

"Midoriya-kun." Yaoyorozu accepted her cup with both hands. "I... we haven't had a chance to properly talk since USJ. I'm so glad you're alright."

My fingers tightened on my cup. The memory of concrete crumbling under Nomu's fist, of bones breaking and blood spraying... I pushed it down. "Thanks to Recovery Girl and Queen. Though I think I gave them both some gray hairs."

"You gave everyone gray hairs, fam." Camie nudged my shoulder with her foot. "But we'll work on that hero complex."

I sipped my tea instead of responding. Every mistake was a lesson. Every failure showed where I needed to improve. The Sports Festival would be different.

"About the training grounds," I said, pulling out my notebook. "I've been analyzing past events. The first round is usually an obstacle course or similar challenge to thin the crowd. Thinking we should request Ground Gamma for mobility practice."

"Smart." Yaoyorozu's tablet displayed a map of UA's facilities. "The industrial layout would help simulate multiple scenarios. Though Beta's urban environment might-"

"Nah, Gamma's better." Camie stretched, her - my - shirt riding up further. "More vertical options. Plus the pipes are perfect for our mobility experts."

"That's... yes, you're right." Yaoyorozu's cheeks pinked again. The heating really was intense today. "For the second round, historically it's been either a team event or..."

She trailed off, hands twisting in her lap. The tension in her shoulders reminded me of our conversation before the USJ. The weight of expectations. The pressure to prove herself.

"Hey." I caught her eye. "It's just us."

Her breath caught. Something flickered across her face - too quick to catch before she looked down at her notes. "Right. Yes. For team events, perhaps..."

The planning continued, but I noticed Yaoyorozu's shoulders gradually relaxing. Good. She thought too much sometimes, got caught up in perfection. Like now - her fingers kept smoothing nonexistent wrinkles from her clothes, adjusting her bracelet, tucking hair behind her ear.

We mapped out training rotations, discussing quirk combinations and potential tournament matchups. The tea grew cold as pages filled with notes. Yaoyorozu's precise diagrams. Camie's flowing shorthand. My own cramped analysis.

Strategy. Focus. Improvement.

The rest could wait.

"Oh!" Yaoyorozu checked her phone. "I should go - I have a family obligation this afternoon."

"Thanks for coming." I gathered empty cups while she packed her tablet. "We should do this again sometime."

"Yes, that would be..." She paused, glancing between Camie and me. "If you're both free, of course."

"Always free for you, Yaomomo." Camie's grin held something I couldn't quite read. "Right, Izu?"

I nodded, carrying dishes to the kitchen. Behind me, their voices mixed - Camie's playful tone, Yaoyorozu's slightly flustered replies. The sound of the door closing.

"You're dense sometimes, you know that?" Camie called out.

"Only sometimes?" I started washing cups. "I'm improving then."

Her arms slipped around my waist, chin hooking over my shoulder. "Want to know what I think?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Nope." She pressed closer. "But first, about that counter that needs attention..."

I turned to face her, raising an eyebrow. "Weren't you just calling me dense?"

"Oh, absolutely." Her fingers traced my collar. "But we can discuss that later. Much later."

The cups could wait.