My Hero Academia: Heavenly Restriction

The credits rolled as we stumbled out of the theater, still laughing at All Might's attempts to blend in at an American college party.

"That dance scene though." Camie wiped tears from her eyes. "Like, who thought teaching All Might to breakdance was a good idea?"

"Pretty sure that wasn't in the original cut." I held the door for her. "The CGI looked different from the rest."

"They totally added it for the anniversary. No way that existed in 2203." She squeezed my hand. "Though watching him try to fit those muscles into a letterman jacket? Iconic."

Neither of us seemed to notice we were still holding hands from the jumpscare scene. Her fingers stayed intertwined with mine as we walked, warm despite the evening chill.

"The whole 'foreign exchange student who's secretly a hero' plot was pretty thin," I said. "But seeing him figure out American culture had its moments."

"That poor cafeteria lady. Her face when he ate the entire football team's meal prep..."

My phone rang, interrupting our shared laughter. Mom's picture filled the screen.

"Hey Mom, what's up?"

"Izuku! I was getting worried. Are you still out?"

I checked the time. Eight already? "Sorry, lost track of time. Met a friend from the entrance exam, we ended up getting drinks and watching a movie."

"A friend?" Her tone shifted. "From the exam?"

"Yeah, we helped each other out during the practical." I caught Camie's amused look. "Actually worked really well together."

"That's wonderful! What's their name?"

Here we go. "Camie. She's from Sapporo."

"She?" Mom's voice rose an octave.

"Yes, Mom. She. We're just friends."

"Of course, of course! I'm just happy you're making connections. Will you be home soon?"

"Actually..." I glanced at Camie, who mouthed something. "I was thinking of showing her around the area first, since she's not from here. That okay?"

"Just be careful. And text me if you'll be late!"

"Will do. Love you."

"Love you too, sweetie."

I hung up, catching Camie's grin. "What?"

"'Just friends', huh?"

"Well, we are."

"True." She swung our joined hands. "Though most friends don't hold hands for twenty minutes without noticing."

Heat crept up my neck as I realized she was right. But neither of us let go.

"So." She bumped my shoulder. "About that tour?"

"You really want to see Musutafu at night?"

"Through a local's eyes? Absolutely." Her eyes sparkled. "Show me your city, Izu."

We wandered the streets, our path meandering but purposeful. I pointed out my favorite spots - the hidden ramen shop where the owner knew every regular's order by heart, the vintage bookstore that stayed open until midnight, the park where local heroes sometimes trained.

"That's where Backdraft practiced his water control," I said, indicating a scorched section of wall. "Before he made it big."

"You really know your stuff." Camie traced the burn marks. "Most people wouldn't notice things like this."

"I used to follow hero activity pretty closely. Still do, just... differently now."

She studied my face. "Because you're quirkless?"

"Partly. But also because I started seeing behind the spectacle. The real work that goes into being a hero."

We reached the shopping district, most stores closed but still lit. Our reflections ghosted across darkened windows - a tall boy in black and a girl in navy blue, hands linked like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"This is my favorite view of the city." I led her down a side street that opened onto Takoba Municipal Beach Park. 

The moon hung low over the water, its light painting silver paths across gentle waves. Stars scattered across the clear sky, more visible here away from the main streets.

"It's beautiful." Camie slipped off her shoes, letting her feet sink into the cool sand. 

"Want to see something?" I pulled out my phone, finding the old video. "This is from Ten months ago."

The screen showed a much smaller version of me in an oversized All Might shirt. Past-me peeled off the sweat-soaked fabric, revealing a body that hadn't yet been sculpted by months of training.

"Progress report, day one," my recorded voice said. "Current status: getting my ass kicked by home appliances."

Camie settled closer, watching intently as past-me detailed his pathetic strength levels and wrapped his hands with torn shirt strips.

"You were so tiny," she whispered. "But that fire in your eyes... it's the same."

The video ended with past-me grinning at the camera, determined despite his exhaustion. Current me closed the phone, oddly self-conscious.

"Wow." I looked up at the night sky. "The moon really looks beautiful tonight. Don't you think?"

When Camie didn't respond, I turned to find her staring at me, a deep blush coloring her cheeks. It was the first time I'd seen her composure crack all day.

"What?"

She shook her head, laughing softly. "Nothing. Just... you really don't know what you do to people, do you?"

"What do you mean?"

"That line. The moon thing. It's..." She waved her free hand vaguely. "Never mind. It's not important."

We sat in comfortable silence, watching the waves. The sea breeze carried salt and possibilities, making the night feel endless.

"I have to head back tomorrow," she said finally. "Early train."

"When will you be back?"

"End of March, probably. Need to get settled before school starts." She squeezed my hand. "But we'll talk. You've got my number now, remember?"

"How could I forget? My brand manager would never let me hear the end of it."

"Damn right." She stood, pulling me up with her. "Walk me back to the hotel?"

The return trip passed too quickly. We reached the Grand Sakura's lobby, our hands finally separating after hours of contact.

"This wasn't a date," Camie said, but her smile held something new. 

"Definitely not." I straightened her tie, letting my fingers linger. "Just two future heroes analyzing successful marketing strategies."

"Exactly." She stepped closer. "Though if it was a date..."

"Yeah?"

"It would have been a pretty good one."

Before I could respond, she rose on her toes and pressed a quick kiss to my cheek. "See you in March, Izu."

She disappeared into the elevator, leaving me standing in the marble lobby with my hand pressed to my face.

My phone buzzed. A notification from Instagram - @CamieUtsushimi had tagged me in a post. The photo from the movie theater, our faces close in the dim light, surrounded by carefully arranged snacks. Her caption read: "Entrance exam buddies 💅✨ Watch this space - big things coming! #UAbound #futureheroes"

I smiled, liking the post before heading home. The night air felt different somehow, charged with potential. Or maybe that was just me, still floating from everything that hadn't happened on our not-date.

Mom was waiting up, of course. Her knowing smile said everything her polite questions didn't. I answered between bites of reheated dinner, downplaying certain details while my cheek still tingled from Camie's goodbye.

Later, lying in bed, I scrolled through the photos we'd taken. The boba shots, the theater selfies, even a few candid moments I hadn't noticed her capturing. Each one told a story - not just of two people becoming friends, but of two futures beginning to intertwine.

Choose your own story, she'd said. Might as well make it one worth reading.

I saved the theater photo as my phone background before closing my eyes. Whatever story we were starting, I had a feeling it would be worth every page.

The sound of waves echoed in my dreams, carrying whispers of what March might bring. For now, that was enough. More than enough.

It was perfect.

March 11, 2226 

I toweled off my neck, settling into my desk chair after a morning of training. The burn in my muscles felt good - a reminder that maintaining this strength took constant work. No shortcuts, just dedication and sweat.

My laptop chimed. Camie's video call popped up right on schedule.

"Izu! You'll never believe what just-" She stopped mid-sentence, eyes widening. "Okay, arms. Who said you could look like that?"

I glanced down at my tank top. "I just finished working out."

"Clearly." She adjusted her camera, revealing her outfit. The butterfly on her shirt seemed to dance as she moved, its psychedelic colors a stark contrast to the black fabric. A matching choker drew attention to her neck, while small silver hoops caught the light.

"Nice shirt."

"Thanks! Thought I'd dress up for the occasion." She reached off-screen, returning with an envelope. An envelope with UA's distinctive seal.

My stomach dropped. "You got yours already?"

"Mhm." She waved it like a fan. "Want to know what it says?"

"You already opened it, didn't you?"

Her grin widened. "Maybe."

"And?"

She placed the letter down carefully, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles. Looked up at me through her lashes. Then burst into motion, dancing around her room with her arms raised.

"Class 1-A, baby! Your girl's going to UA!"

Despite my own letter's conspicuous absence, her joy proved infectious. "That's amazing! I knew you'd make it."

"Right? All that planning paid off." She dropped back into her chair, spinning once. "Though I still can't believe someone six hours away got their letter before someone who could walk to UA."

"The postal service works in mysterious ways."

"Or they're doing it alphabetically and Utsushimi comes before..." She squinted at me. "Wait, I forgot your family name."

"Midoriya."

"Midoriya." She tested the word. "Nope, that theory's dead. U definitely comes after M."

I propped my chin on my hand. "Maybe they're sending rejection letters last?"

"Don't even joke about that." She leaned closer to her camera. "You demolished that exam. They'd be idiots not to take you."

"There were a lot of strong applicants."

"And none of them destroyed a zero pointer." She tapped her screen where my face would be. "Stop with the sad puppy eyes. Your letter's probably out for delivery right now."

"Puppy eyes?"

"You get this look when you're worried. All big eyes and furrowed brows. It's unfairly cute."

"I do not."

"You're doing it right now!" She laughed. "See? That little head tilt too. You're like those videos of confused golden retrievers."

"I'm hanging up."

"No you're not." She adjusted her choker, drawing attention to the delicate crosswork. "You like talking to me too much."

She wasn't wrong, but I wasn't about to admit it. "Maybe I just enjoy the ego boost of being compared to a dog."

"A very cute dog."

"Not helping your case."

"Fine, fine." She held up her hands in surrender. "Tell me about your workout instead. Those arms didn't just happen."

I described my morning routine - the run with Mom, the weight training, the martial arts practice. Camie asked surprisingly technical questions about form and progression. 

"I've been thinking about adding more strength training," she said. "The illusions are great, but sometimes you need actual muscle, you know?"

"I could help you design a program. Your quirk would be perfect for form checks - you could create copies to watch yourself from different angles."

Her eyes lit up. "That's genius! We could do virtual training sessions."

"It would need to work around class schedules once we start." I caught myself. "If we both get in."

"When." She pointed at me. "When we both get in. Now show me that shoulder press form you were talking about."

I demonstrated the movement pattern, explaining the key points of technique. Camie created a small illusion of herself to mimic my motions.

"Like this?"

"Close. Try keeping your elbows a bit more forward." I reached toward the screen instinctively before catching myself. "Sorry, force of habit."

"Wish you could actually adjust my form." She dispersed the illusion. "April needs to hurry up."

"Three more weeks."

"Too long." She flopped back in her chair. "I want to start hero training now. Show off my new moves."

"New moves?"

"Oh yeah, I've been practicing. Check this out." She raised her hand, and suddenly my screen filled with butterflies matching her shirt. They swirled in complex patterns before resolving into words: Future Hero.

"That's incredible control."

"Right? I can do super detailed stuff now, as long as it's small scale." The butterflies dissolved into smoke. "Still working on bigger illusions, but-"

"Izuku!" Mom's voice carried through my open door. "It's here!"

My heart stopped.

"Was that..." Camie leaned toward her camera.

"I should-"

"Go! Call me right back!"