My Hero Academia: Heavenly Restriction

I stared at the powerstone counter in disbelief.

"What. The. Actual-" I pushed my glasses up, squinting at the numbers. "We're at almost 600 powerstones?! How did... when did..."

My hands flailed, sending my current notebook flying. Various pens scattered across my desk, a few managing to land perfectly in my cold coffee mug. The splash created an interesting ink pattern on my latest character sketch. 

Great. Now Izuku looks like he has purple freckles.

"You readers are absolutely insane," I muttered, pulling my hood back and gathering my scattered writing implements. "I didn't think you'd actually... I mean, the challenge was supposed to be..." 

I slumped back in my chair, chewing on my sleeve as I contemplated the situation. The numbers didn't lie. We were rapidly approaching 600 powerstones. 

"Fine. Fine. A deal's a deal." I straightened up, adjusted my glasses, and pulled out a fresh notebook. "You magnificent overachievers deserve this bonus chapter. But don't think this means you've won! You only hit it one time!"

====

March 19, 2226

I checked my phone again. 12:47. The train wasn't due for another twenty-eight minutes.

I'm too early. 

The station bustled with weekend traffic - families returning from shopping trips, couples heading for lunch dates, salarymen catching up on missed work. I found a quiet corner near the arrivals board and tried to look casual.

Should have grabbed coffee first. But no, caffeine would just make the overthinking worse. And I was doing plenty of that already.

Three weeks of daily video calls. Hours of talking about everything and nothing. Sharing UA prep notes, comparing workout routines, slowly learning each other's habits and quirks. Like how she always played with her hair when solving a problem. Or how her nose scrunched up right before laughing at her own jokes.

Stop it.

I pulled out my phone, pretending to check messages while actually studying my reflection in the black screen. The outfit was maybe trying too hard, but Mom had insisted. "You want to look nice for your friend Camie, don't you?"

It's not like that.

Was it?

The arrivals board updated. Her train was running two minutes early. My hands wouldn't stop fidgeting.

Keep it professional. She's going to be your classmate. Your friend.

Friend. Right. Just because she called every night, usually right before bed... Just because she'd taken to sending good morning texts with ridiculous selfies attached... 

You're reading too much into things. She's naturally friendly. Outgoing. Don't make it weird.

The station speakers crackled. "Platform Three, arriving from Sapporo..."

I straightened, adjusting my collar one last time. Professional. Casual. Normal.

The train glided in, all sleek lines and polished steel. Passengers began filtering out, wheeling suitcases and shouldering bags. I scanned the crowd, looking for that distinctive blonde hair...

"Izu?"

My head snapped up at her voice. There - halfway down the platform, practically bouncing with energy. She wore a cream-colored sweater dress that somehow made her look both elegant and cozy, her hair catching the afternoon sun.

Oh.

She spotted me. Her whole face lit up.

Oh no.

"IZU!"

The next few seconds played out in slow motion. Camie broke into a run, and launched herself at me with the grace of a gymnast. Pure reflex took over - I caught her easily, one arm supporting her weight as she wrapped her legs around my waist. Her momentum spun us in a half-circle, drawing more than a few stares.

"Hi," she breathed, face inches from mine. Her arms looped around my neck, settling into the embrace like she belonged there.

Professional plan status: Complete failure.

"Hi. Good trip?"

"Boring. Until now." She made no move to let go. If anything, she snuggled closer. "Mm. You're warm."

Heat crept up my neck. "We should probably get your bag."

"You already got it."

I glanced over her shoulder. Sure enough, my free hand had snagged her duffle during the spin. Muscle memory was a hell of a thing.

"Show-off." She poked my chest. "I like the outfit, by the way. Very model-off-duty."

"Mom picked it."

"Smart woman. Knows how to dress her son." Her grin turned mischievous. "Though I bet you spent at least twenty minutes overthinking it."

"...Fifteen."

She laughed, the sound vibrating through both of us. "Called it. You're such a worrier."

"Someone has to balance out your chaos energy."

"Rude. I'm a delight." She finally unwound her legs, sliding down but keeping one arm draped across my shoulders. "So, tour guide, where to first?"

I adjusted her bag's strap. "Depends. Hungry?"

"Starving. Train food is criminal."

"There's this ramen place nearby. Best chashu in the district."

Her eyes lit up. "Lead the way!"

We fell into step together, her arm still casually linked with mine. The stares continued - we made an interesting pair, I supposed. Me in all black, carrying her pastel bag like it weighed nothing. Her practically glowing with excitement, pointing out every interesting shop window we passed.

"Oh! Cute cafe. We should try it later."

"They do good parfaits."

She raised an eyebrow. "You've been?"

"Mom likes their coffee." I steered us around a group of tourists. "And their strawberry shortcake is decent."

"Decent, he says. Like you're some cake expert."

"I appreciate good desserts."

"Noted." She bumped my shoulder playfully. "For future reference."

Future reference. Future. With her.

"Earth to Izu?" She waved her free hand in front of my face. "You went all thinking face on me."

"Just remembering something." 

"Lies. You were overthinking again." She poked my cheek. "I can tell by the little crease right here."

"I don't have a thinking crease."

"You absolutely do. It's adorable." She stretched up on tiptoes, studying my face critically. "Yep, definitely overthinking. Spill."

"Just... glad you're here."

Her expression softened. "Me too." Then the playful spark returned. "Even if you did try to go all proper and distant at first."

"I did not-"

"Please. I saw that deer-in-headlights look when I jumped you." She squeezed my arm. "Like you thought I was going to be all formal after three weeks of late-night calls."

Put like that, it did sound ridiculous.

"In my defense," I said carefully, "most people don't greet their friends with flying tackles."

"Most people are boring." She shrugged. "Besides, you caught me. Knew you would."

"That's not the point-"

"No, the point is you're cute when you're flustered." She grinned up at me. "And way too easy to tease."

Before I could form a coherent response, she gasped and pulled us to a stop. "Is that the ramen place? It looks so cozy!"

The small restaurant was tucked between two larger buildings, steam fogging its windows. A red paper lantern swayed gently in the breeze, casting warm light across the entrance.

"Best seats are at the counter," I said, grateful for the subject change. "You can watch them make everything."

"Perfect." She finally released my arm to push open the door. "After you, handsome."

Handsome. The casual compliment hit like a physical thing. She'd called me that before, during our video calls, but somehow hearing it in person...

"Thinking face again," she sang, giving me a gentle push. "Food first, existential crisis later."

The familiar scents of pork bone broth and garlic hit us as we entered. The shop was small, just ten counter seats and three tables, but the atmosphere was warm and inviting. Steam rose from massive pots behind the counter, and the rhythmic sound of knife work filled the air.

"Midoriya-kun!" The elderly owner brightened as we approached. "Ah, and who's this lovely young lady?"

"Camie Utsushimi," she introduced herself with a small bow. "I'm starting at UA with Izu in a few weeks."

"Another hero student? Wonderful!" He gestured to two empty seats. "Please, sit! The usual for you, Midoriya-kun?"

I nodded, setting Camie's bag carefully beside our stools. "And whatever she'd like. My treat."

She opened her mouth to protest, but I cut her off. "You're buying next time."

Her protest died in a pleased smile. "Next time, huh?"

"Well, you'll need to know all the good spots once you move here."

"True." She studied the menu intently. "What's good besides the chashu?"

"Everything." At her skeptical look, I elaborated. "But the tantanmen is amazing if you like spicy food."

"Sold." She set down the menu. "One tantanmen, extra spicy please!"

The owner chuckled. "Coming right up! And the special for Midoriya-kun."

We watched him work, the efficiency of decades showing in every motion. Camie leaned closer, her shoulder brushing mine.

"This is nice," she said softly. "Being here for real, not just through a screen."

"Yeah." I resisted the urge to pull her closer. "Though you did make the video calls fun."

"Even when I called at midnight because I couldn't sleep?"

"Especially then." Those late-night conversations had become something of a highlight. Her voice getting progressively sleepier, her guard dropping just a little...

The owner returned with two steaming bowls, breaking the moment. "Enjoy!"

Camie's eyes widened at the sight of her tantanmen. "This looks incredible."

"Wait till you taste it."

She didn't need more encouragement, diving in with enthusiasm. Her first bite drew a sound of pure satisfaction that did interesting things to my pulse.

"Oh my god." She took another bite. "This is amazing. How is this so good?"

"Family recipe," the owner called from further down the counter. "Three generations of perfecting it!"

"I can tell." She attacked the noodles with renewed vigor. "This might be better than sex."

I choked on my broth.

"Careful there." She patted my back, not looking remotely sorry. "Can't have you dying before showing me the rest of the neighborhood."

"You're terrible."

"You love it." She stole a piece of my chashu. "Oh wow, you weren't kidding about this either."

"Hey!"

"Payment for emotional damages." She grinned. "Besides, sharing is caring."

"That's not-" I cut off as she held out a spoonful of her tantanmen.

"Fair's fair. Try it!"

The spicy broth hit my tongue, followed by the complex layers of sesame and chili oil. "Damn."

"Right?" She looked entirely too pleased with herself. "We're definitely coming back here."

"Planning my whole schedule already?"

"Obviously. Someone needs to make sure you don't spend all your time training." She poked my arm. "Speaking of which, these are new."

I glanced down at where her finger traced one of the more prominent muscles visible through my sleeve. "Just the usual workout routine."

"Usual for who, All Might?" She squeezed my bicep appreciatively. "I mean, you were fit at the exam, but this is..."

She trailed off, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.

"Gramps is very thorough with online training," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "And I might have stepped it up a bit after the exam."

"Of course you did." She shook her head fondly. "Try not to get too buff though. I like being able to koala hug you."

"Noted. No All Might physique then."

"Good." She returned to her food, seemingly unaware of the effect her words had. "Though you'd probably look good either way."

Oh my god this girl is going to be the death of me.