Ha! You really thought I wasn't gonna post today? Well, surprise... 3,700 words. I know, I'm magnificent.
The bathroom door clicked shut behind Momo. She pressed her back against the cold tile wall and took several deep breaths.
How on earth did that happen?
Her hands still covered her bare chest, pressing firmly against skin that felt hypersensitive to even the slightest touch. The sports bra hung uselessly from one hand. She lowered her arms slowly, watching the ruined garment fall to the floor.
The cool bathroom air hit her exposed breasts immediately. Momo had to bite her lip to suppress the involuntary gasp that tried to escape. Her nipples, still hardened and painfully erect, reacted to the change in temperature.
This is ridiculous, she thought, closing her eyes and trying to steady her breathing. I should have better control over my body.
But control seemed to be the one thing she didn't have right now. The dampness between her thighs was impossible to ignore, soaking her underwear and making the fabric of her athletic shorts stick uncomfortably to her skin. Every tiny movement caused the material to rub against her, sending shivers down her spine.
What must Hayashi-kun be thinking right now?
The mere thought was enough to make her face burn with renewed shame. She opened her eyes and saw herself in the mirror above the sink. Her chest was a mess. Her pale skin was slightly flushed in some areas.
Did he really do it?
The memory hit her hard. The wet heat of Ren's mouth closing around her nipple. The strong suction that sent sparks of pleasure through her entire nervous system. The way his tongue...
No. No, that can't be right. It was an accident. I fell on him because the bra broke and his mouth was just there when I landed.
That explanation didn't justify what happened next. It didn't explain why, instead of pulling away immediately like any reasonable person would, she pressed her breasts more firmly against his mouth. It didn't explain the shameful way her hips moved, rubbing her crotch against his raised knee with needy movements that made her want to disappear right now.
"I was rubbing against him... oh God."
Momo covered her face with both hands; the embarrassment was so intense. What kind of person did that? What kind of future heroine lost total control during a simple training accident and basically assaulted a classmate?
Though, technically speaking, a small and treacherous part of her mind whispered that he didn't seem to mind. In fact, his hands were...
She shook her head violently, trying to dispel the thought before it took shape.
Focus, Momo. You need to calm down and think rationally about this.
She took another deep breath and forced herself to look at the situation objectively. The bra had broken during the bout. That was undeniable. Equipment failures happened all the time during intense physical training. The fact that it occurred at such an inopportune moment was simply bad luck.
The fall was also accidental. She remembered Hayashi-kun lunging forward as if to attack, her instinctive turn to block with her bo staff, and then the sudden loss of balance that sent them both to the floor. It was a coincidence that she landed on top of him in such a compromising position.
And the rest... well, the human body has automatic responses to certain types of stimulation. It wasn't her fault that the combination of hypersensitive skin and intense contact triggered a physiological reaction. Any woman would've responded the same way under those circumstances.
Sure. Any woman would've had an orgasm from a training accident in the middle of a group session.
The sarcasm in her own thoughts made her want to laugh, except that laughing felt impossible when her body was still trembling with residual pleasure and her underwear was soaked with the evidence of what had occurred.
At least the other girls didn't notice. That was one small blessing in this whole disaster. Toru, Ochako, Mina, Tsuyu, and Inko were absorbed in their own matches, too concentrated on their training to pay attention to what was happening on the other side of the gym. They'd never know that their organized and responsible class vice-representative had just experienced the most intense orgasm of her life while rubbing against a classmate in plain sight.
But Hayashi-kun knew. He'd been right there under her, with his mouth on her chest and his knee pressed between her legs while she fell apart without dignity.
What's he thinking right now? Does he think I'm some kind of pervert? Does he believe I planned everything just to... no, that's absurd. He knows it was an accident. He has to know.
Except that a small, insidious voice in her mind kept whispering that maybe it wasn't entirely accidental.
Momo straightened up, forcing determination into her thoughts. What happened was an accident. She'd go back to the gym, face Hayashi-kun with professional composure, and they'd never speak of this incident again. It would become one of those things that simply doesn't exist in the official record of their interactions.
With her decision made, Momo activated her Quirk. Lipids moved through the skin of her torso as she concentrated on creating a new sports bra. The new garment materialized quickly: a sturdy, elastic construction of high quality that definitely wouldn't break during normal activities.
She put it on carefully, wincing when the fabric made contact with her still-sensitive breasts. The material was soft, but it couldn't hide that her nipples were still partially erect, creating small visible marks through the compression fabric.
"Great. Just perfect."
She examined herself in the mirror again, turning a bit to check her profile. The visibility wasn't terrible. Someone would have to look very closely to notice anything unusual. But she knew, and that knowledge made her self-consciousness spike to almost unbearable levels.
Maybe, if I'm lucky, everyone will be too tired to pay attention to the details.
With one last deep breath and a mental pep talk about maintaining professional composure, Momo opened the bathroom door and returned to the gym.
The scene that greeted her was comically ordinary after what had just happened. The other girls were scattered around the training area in various states of exhaustion. Ochako was lying on her back on one of the mats, staring at the ceiling with a dazed expression. Mina was sitting nearby, fanning herself dramatically with one hand. Tsuyu had found a corner and seemed to be stretching. Inko looked tired but satisfied.
And Hagakure... well, Hagakure was hanging off Ren like a particularly clingy cat. The weight of her invisible body rested against his back, while her gym clothes suggested she had her head resting near his shoulder.
"I'm dying," Hagakure announced. "Someone call Recovery Girl because I need an immediate medical intervention."
"You're being dramatic," Ren said.
"I'm not dramatic! I express my suffering through language. There's a difference."
"Is there?"
"Ren-kun, you're supposed to be empathetic toward my pain. Where's your heroic compassion?"
"I left it in my other pants."
Momo felt herself relax a little at the normalcy of their banter. If Ren was joking with Hagakure as usual, then maybe he wasn't sitting there thinking about what happened between them.
"Yaoyorozu-san!" Ochako's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "Are you okay? That bra failure looked pretty bad."
"I'm fine," Momo assured her, proud of how steady her voice sounded. "It was just a defective piece of equipment. These things happen during intense training."
"Really?" Mina asked, tilting her head. "I've never had a bra just snap out of nowhere during an exercise."
"The stress of repetitive high-impact movements can weaken the structural integrity of the garment over time," Momo explained, falling back on technical language. "Combined with the additional strain of Quirk usage, it's not entirely surprising that the failure occurred at that moment."
I sound like I'm giving a lecture on materials science instead of explaining why my underwear exploded.
"That makes sense," Ochako said, satisfied with the explanation. "I'm glad you're okay. That must've been so embarrassing!"
You have no idea.
"It was... unexpected," Momo managed to say. "But I've created a replacement and there's no permanent damage, so there's nothing to worry about."
She avoided looking at Ren during this exchange.
"Well, I think we've all earned a break," Momo continued, checking the gym clock. "Our reserved time is almost up. I'm officially declaring today's training session concluded."
"Thank God," Hagakure groaned. "Ren-kun, carry me. My legs don't work anymore."
"Your legs work fine."
"No! I'm completely incapacitated! You have to carry me on your back like a noble hero rescuing a damsel in distress!"
Ren rolled his eyes.
"You know what? Fine. But only because watching you try to walk right now would probably take longer than just carrying you."
"See? You do have heroic compassion! I knew it was in there somewhere!"
Momo watched as Ren stood up with Hagakure still clinging to his back; the gym clothes created the unreal image of floating athletic wear being transported.
"You know, this would be more comfortable if you had hair for me to hold onto," Hagakure reflected. "Your bald head is very aerodynamic, but it's not good for grip."
"Right, after all, I'm bald by choice. I'll make sure to grow my hair out just for your convenience."
"You would? That would be so thoughtful!"
"I can take everyone home," Momo announced, perhaps a bit louder than necessary. "My driver should be waiting outside and there's plenty of room in the vehicle for all of us."
"That's very kind of you, Yaoyorozu-san!" Inko said gratefully. "I was dreading the walk to the train station."
"It's no trouble at all. Please, consider it my responsibility as the organizer to ensure everyone gets home safely."
As the group began to gather their belongings, Momo shot a quick glance at Ren. He was busy adjusting Hagakure's position on his back, completely focused on the task. His expression was neutral, perhaps a bit amused by the invisible girl's comments, but he showed no signs of discomfort about what had happened earlier.
Maybe it really didn't affect him at all.
******
The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the city streets while Detective Naomasa Tsukauchi rubbed his temples in a futile attempt to stave off the headache growing behind his eyes.
This case made no sense.
Naomasa had seen plenty of strange things during his years on the police force. Quirk-related crimes came in all shapes and sizes, but this was something else entirely.
"Run it by me one more time," he said, pulling out his notebook. "You're telling me a hero with a paper bag on his head defeated the three of you in less than five minutes?"
The crocodile mutant, whose name was Sakura Koji, shifted uncomfortably in his bed. His scaly skin was covered in bandages where severe burns made him look like a poorly prepared barbecue.
"He moved like nothing I've ever seen before."
"Describe his fighting style."
"That's the problem, Detective. It was like fighting someone who could predict every move before you made it. I tried to hit him and he was just... gone. Like he'd teleported or something."
Koji truly believed what he was saying. Either this mysterious hero was that good, or something else was going on.
"And you," Naomasa turned toward the second villain, the one with electrical abilities. "What did you see?"
Tanaka Hiro looked even worse than his partner, with bruises painting his jaw in shades of purple. He flinched when Naomasa addressed him.
"I fired my strongest electrical blast straight at him and he just... dodged it. Then he came at me from above and I couldn't follow the movement. Next thing I know, I'm on my back and my body is discharging electricity in every direction except toward him. It was like he was controlling the current somehow."
"And the blow that knocked you unconscious?"
"I barely saw it coming. But when it connected..." Hiro touched his jaw gingerly. "It felt like the impact came from inside my head instead of outside. My Quirk gives me resistance to physical trauma through electromagnetic field manipulation, but this ignored it completely."
The third villain had remained mostly silent. His mouth was wired shut due to jaw fractures, so communication was limited to written notes. When Naomasa pressed him, he scribbled quickly on a pad:
He reflected my fire. I launched flames directly at him and they curved back toward me like they hit a mirror. Then he moved through the smoke. I couldn't see him, but he could see me perfectly.
"So we have a hero..."
"Vigilante," Naomasa corrected himself. "We have a vigilante who can apparently teleport, control electricity, reflect fire, and land hits that ignore defensive Quirks. Does that sum it up?"
The three villains nodded in unison, their faces showing everything from confusion to fear.
Naomasa jotted this down, trying to maintain his composure while internally screaming at the absurdity of the situation. A paper bag. The most powerful unknown combatant to appear in months is running around the city with a paper bag on his head.
At least he's memorable, he thought with grim humor.
"What about the wall?" he asked, turning to a new page. "Witnesses say it was completely destroyed, with a hole big enough for a car to drive through. How did that happen?"
"He did it," Koji said, opening his reptilian eyes.
"Super strength then?"
The door to the room opened with a soft click that managed to sound both cheerful and annoying at the same time.
"Well, well. Look at you, working on a Wednesday afternoon. And here I thought you'd take at least one day to spend with your favorite sister."
Naomasa didn't need to turn around to identify the person. He knew that voice.
"Makoto. What are you doing here?"
His sister stepped into the room. Makoto Tsukauchi was tall and thin, with long, wavy hair that she wore loose today. Her dark eyes swept the room with curiosity, taking in the three villains, the medical equipment, and Naomasa's defeated posture in a single glance.
"That's a very rude way to greet your dear younger sister who just returned from an extended stay in the United States," she said, placing a hand over her heart in a gesture of fake hurt. "I thought you'd be happy to see me."
"I am happy to see you. I'd be happier if you were at home resting like you said you would."
"Plans change. I saw something interesting on the news about an unregistered hero taking down three villains. It piqued my professional curiosity."
She moved further into the room; her heels clicked against the floor with sharp sounds. The villains followed her movement with cautious eyes.
"Professional curiosity?" Naomasa repeated. "You're supposed to be on vacation."
"Vacations can include intellectual stimulation. Besides, you know I get bored easily. And this case..." she gestured to the room with an elegant hand. "This case is fascinating. So I assume these are the three unfortunate criminals who ran into our mysterious paper bag hero?"
"How did you even know I was here?"
"I have my sources. Plus, you're incredibly predictable. When something weird happens, you investigate personally. It's very cute how dedicated you are to your job, even if it means you never take real time off."
Naomasa recognized a losing battle. His sister was here, she was interested in the case, and unless he physically removed her from the building, she wasn't leaving.
"Fine," he said with a deep sigh. "You can observe. But no interfering with the official investigation."
"Would I ever interfere?" Makoto asked innocently.
"Yes. Frequently."
"Good point. I promise to be on my best behavior." She sat down gracefully, crossing her legs and pulling out her own notebook. "So, gentlemen. Tell me about this paper bag hero. I want to hear everything."
Two hours later, Naomasa had to admit that having Makoto present had been useful. Her questions were sharp, approaching the case from angles he hadn't considered. While he focused on the practical aspects, she was interested in the theoretical implications.
"The wall destruction is particularly interesting," Makoto reflected, tapping her lip with her pen. "If we're looking for standard super strength, we'd expect to see more localized damage. Punch marks or cracks radiating from a central impact point. But witnesses described the entire section of the wall exploding outward simultaneously."
"Which suggests what?" Naomasa asked.
"It suggests the force was applied uniformly across the entire surface at once. That's not how human strength works, even augmented strength. It implies an extremely sophisticated control over force application, or..." she paused, her eyes lighting up. "Or it implies telekinesis."
"Telekinesis," Naomasa repeated, writing it down. "So we're adding that to the list of possible Quirks?"
"It would explain several things. The apparent teleportation could be self-propulsion via telekinetic force. The ability to make the electrical attack fail could've been a telekinetic redirection of the current. The fire reflection could've been telekinetic manipulation of air currents to divert the flames."
She was getting excited now, leaning forward.
"If this person has a powerful enough telekinesis, they could simulate the effects of multiple different Quirks through the creative application of a single ability. Enhanced punches through telekinetic force multiplication. Superhuman agility with telekinetic assistance. Even the ability to see through smoke could be explained by clearing the air around their face telekinetically."
Naomasa considered it. It made a disturbing amount of sense.
"But a telekinesis of that power level is extremely rare. And someone with such a strong ability should definitely be registered with the Hero Commission."
"They should be," Makoto agreed. "Which raises the question of why they aren't. Either they're deliberately operating outside the system, or it's someone who hasn't gone through the official licensing process yet."
"A student?"
"Possibly. Or a civilian who only recently manifested their Quirk at this power level. Late bloomers do exist, even if it's uncommon." She checked her notes with a thoughtful expression. "There's something else bothering me about this case. The level of precision involved."
"What are you getting at?"
"My point is that this person was holding back. If they have a telekinetic power strong enough to demolish a concrete wall, they could've done much worse. Instead, they exerted every attack to incapacitate without causing lasting damage."
Naomasa felt the pieces clicking together, forming a picture that was both clearer and more concerning than before.
"A trained combatant with powerful telekinesis, operating without a license, showing up to stop a robbery. That's either a very dedicated vigilante or..."
"Or someone doing unauthorized fieldwork," Makoto finished. "Which would explain the makeshift disguise. A paper bag isn't exactly professional hero gear, but it's just what a rookie might grab in a panic if they wanted to hide their identity."
They sat in silence for a moment, contemplating the implications.
"This is going to be a nightmare to investigate," Naomasa finally said. "Even if we narrow it down to people with telekinetic abilities, it's still a large group. And without a clear view of their face or any other distinguishing features..."
"Well," Makoto said, standing up and brushing imaginary dust off her skirt. "I suppose that makes it more interesting, doesn't it? A true mystery to solve."
"This isn't a game, Makoto."
"I never said it was. But it's my field of research. The development and application of Quirks, particularly in young adults showing unusual power progression. If this person is a student, they're exhibiting abilities that deserve to be studied. And if they aren't..." she shrugged elegantly. "Then they're an unknown factor that needs to be identified for public safety reasons."
Naomasa recognized that look on his sister's face. She'd latched onto this case and nothing was going to make her let go.
"What are you planning?"
"Me? I plan to do what I do best. Research and analysis. Maybe contact a few acquaintances who might have some useful information." She paused at the door, looking back at him with a smile. "You know, since I'm visiting Musutafu, I should probably stop by and see Kazuho. It's been ages since we last talked, and I'm sure she'd love to hear what I've been working on in the States."
Naomasa narrowed his eyes. "Kazuho Haneyama? What does she have to do with this?"
"Oh, nothing specific. I just thought it would be nice to catch up."
She was being deliberately vague, which meant she was definitely up to something.
"Makoto..."
"Don't worry, big brother. I'm not going to interfere with your official investigation. I'm just going to follow my own academic inquiries into the nature of advanced telekinetic applications in unregistered combatants. Pure theory. Nothing that steps on official toes."
"That's exactly what I'm worried about."
"Your concern is touching but unnecessary. Now, I should let you get back to your work. I'm sure you have mountains of paperwork to file about this incident."
She slipped out of the room before he could formulate a response, leaving Naomasa alone with his thoughts, three confused villains, and the growing certainty that this case was about to get much more complicated.
The paper bag hero, he thought, looking at his notes.
Outside the hospital, Makoto pulled out her phone and scrolled through her contacts until she found the right number. The phone rang twice before connecting.
"Kazuho? Hi, it's Makoto. I'm back in Musutafu for a while and was hoping we could meet up. I've got something very interesting to discuss with you..."
******
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