Hero Trainer: Choke Me With Those Thighs!

"They're still a disaster. Disorganized. Emotional. Dangerous."

Gran Torino's voice was like the screech of rusted metal, a harsh sound that cut through the silence and put everyone on edge. The old hero stood in the center of the plaza, his small frame casting a disproportionately long and authoritative shadow. His gaze swept over the motley group. It stopped on Yu's towering figure, her celebrity smile looking out of place in the desolate environment; on Toga, whose chaotic energy vibrated under a skin of borrowed normalcy; on Ochako and Toru, nervous but expectant; on Momo, her posture a pillar of analytical calm; on Inko, whose determination burned in her green eyes, a flame she had learned to control; and finally, on Izuku, the nexus that bound this unlikely assembly together.

"Your exam for today: protect the civilian for fifteen minutes."

He jerked a thumb at a pitiful-looking mannequin dressed in street clothes and tied to a lamppost in the middle of the plaza. It was their sole objective, a fragile symbol of innocence in the middle of decay.

"The robots have orders to incapacitate, not kill you. But they won't be gentle. You start... now."

There was no bell. No warning. Only a deep, rumbling tremor that rose from the bowels of the earth. The ground vibrated, and from the dark mouths of alleys, from underground garages and broken windows, they emerged.

Dozens of UA training robots, advanced combat models with military-grade paint and glowing red eyes that locked onto them with cold, artificial intelligence. They moved with a silent, lethal efficiency, their weapons already charged, their targeting systems engaged.

The team's first reaction was instinctive chaos, an explosion of individualistic power.

"This is more fun!"

Yu Takeyama became giant in an instant, her laughter booming across the plaza as one of her feet crushed three robots like soda cans. The show of force was spectacular, but it made her the perfect target. On a nearby rooftop, two sniper robots fired a volley of electric nets.

"Hey!"

The nets hit her across the back, a web of crackling energy that made her stagger, a roar of pain and frustration escaping her lips. The shock disoriented her, and her next stomp missed, creating a useless crater in the asphalt.

"Watch out, Yu-san!" Inko Midoriya reacted, her eyes fixed on the threat. She raised a hand, and an invisible vector shield, a distortion in the air, materialized in front of her, deflecting plasma bolts from a flanking robot.

At the same time, Toga and Momo tried to erect a defensive wall for Inko, but their efforts clashed.

"Creation!" Momo yelled, beginning to form a dense, layered barrier.

"I've got it!" Toga shouted, trying to make the same wall from a different angle.

Their creations collided, resulting in a lumpy, brittle slab of concrete that shattered on the first impact from a battering-ram robot.

"Toga-san, you have to visualize the molecular structure! Don't just force it!" Momo advised, frustrated.

"I'm trying, Yaomomo!" Toga hissed back, her borrowed powers failing to match the original's finesse.

They were being outmaneuvered, flanked, their individual power neutralized by a coordinated force that had no ego or fear, only lethal programming.

"STOP FIGHTING ALONE! WE'RE A TEAM!"

Izuku's voice wasn't the loudest, but it cut through the noise of battle with the authority of a commander. The chaos paused for a split second. Everyone—even the giant-sized Yu—turned to him. He stood in the center of the plaza, next to the mannequin, his green eyes analyzing the battlefield at superhuman speed, his mind a supercomputer processing variables, threats, and opportunities.

"Mom, don't just block! Deflect their shots into other robots! Use their own firepower against them!"

Inko blinked, and a new understanding, a spark of tactical genius, lit up her eyes. The next shot that came for her, she didn't block. She angled her vector shield with precision, like a pool player calculating a bank shot. The plasma bolt ricocheted with a hiss and hit another robot in the back. The machine exploded in a shower of sparks and twisted metal. A fierce smile, that of a lioness protecting her cubs, formed on her lips.

"Yu-san, don't stand still, you're a massive target! Create shockwaves with your stomps to throw them off balance! Become a walking earthquake!"

"Got it, Director!" Yu roared, and her next stomp wasn't to crush, but to destabilize. The ground shook, and several robots lost their footing, their targeting systems failing.

"Toru, stop throwing things and be our scout! I need eyes on the flanks! Warn us of ambushes before they happen!"

"On it, chief!" Toru's voice chirped from a nearby rooftop, now a useful phantom.

"Momo, Toga, work together! Momo, you're precision! Toga, you're volume! Stop getting in each other's way!"

The chaos began to find its rhythm, Izuku's voice the metronome. His "Prediction Zone" expanded, no longer just anticipating the hit coming for him, but the ones coming for his team. Every command was a chess move on a board of concrete and death.

"Ochako, robot at your six, it's using a drill-arm! Nullify it before it gets through to my mom!"

Without even looking, Ochako spun on her heel, slid across the ground with the grace her gravity control afforded her, and tapped the robot just in time. The drill ground to a halt inches from the back of Inko, who hadn't even noticed the danger. "Got it!"

"Toga, your left!" Izuku yelled. "That robot has a grenade launcher! Momo, I need a shield, now! A dense one!"

"On it!" Momo called out. "Toga, support me! Create a wide, simple barrier right in front of me! Just a thick slab!"

This time, they worked in concert. As Toga thrust her hands forward, a crude but wide wall of concrete erupted from the ground. A moment later, a sleek, perfectly formed shield of layered tungsten emerged from Momo's arm, which she braced against Toga's wall. The grenade hit with a metallic, satisfying thud, its concussive force absorbed by their combined effort.

Synergy began to flow. They moved as a single entity, a combat organism with seven heads and one brain. Ochako levitated robots for Yu to use as improvised projectiles, hurling them into enemy formations. Toru, a ghostly voice on their comms, warned them of hidden threats with uncanny accuracy.

"Two more in the north alley! They've got sonic cannons!"

"Mom, now!" The word slipped from Izuku's lips naturally, a slip-up in the heat of battle that only he and Inko noticed. "Create a tunnel! Funnel them to Yu!"

Inko didn't hesitate. Her hands moved, and two rusted cars lifted off the ground, pulled by her vectors. She placed them with millimeter precision, forming a narrow corridor. The two sonic robots, forced into the bottleneck, came face-to-face with Yu's giant foot.

But they were burning through resources at an alarming rate. Especially Toga. Creating objects with Momo's Quirk was a massive lipid drain that her body wasn't built to handle. An elite robot—bigger, faster, and more armored than the others—broke through their defensive line. It lunged for Toga, recognizing her as the weakest link, its metal pincers gleaming in the sun.

"Izuku-kun, I'm empty! I can't make any more!" she panted, her arm glowing faintly, unable to create an effective defense. Momo, seeing her falter, quickly tried to create a set of caltrops to slow the elite robot, but her own stamina was beginning to wane from the constant, high-level creations.

"Damn it! You need a boost!" Izuku ran toward her, dodging a laser blast that scorched the asphalt beside him. "Momo, cover her!"

There was no time for the "full protocol" ceremony. No room for intimacy or hesitation. In a pragmatic, desperate move, he grabbed Toga by the shoulders, spun her around, and placed his hand firmly on her chest, right over her training uniform, channeling his energy directly into her. It was a quick, tactical act, like a soldier applying a tourniquet on the battlefield.

"Hold on!"

A surge of energy coursed through Toga. With a cry, she created one last barrier, a wall of imperfect titanium, but strong enough to stop the elite robot's charge. The machine crashed against it and bounced off, disoriented.

They took advantage of the brief respite as the first wave of robots fell back. Toga, having reverted to her normal form to conserve energy, cornered Izuku against the wall of a building.

"That 'boost'… was pathetic, Izuku-kun," she whispered, her voice a dangerous, seductive hiss. "It barely recharged me." She leaned in, her smile predatory. "It was nothing like the other night."

Izuku flushed, flustered. "We were in the middle of a battle! There wasn't time for—!"

"Exactly," she cut him off, her warm breath on his cheek. "If you want me at full capacity, if you want me creating weapons that can win this fight... you know what you have to do next time. Don't hold back. Give me the 'full training'."

Her demand wasn't a request. It was a condition. A new, dangerous dynamic had just been born between them, one where intimacy had become a strategic weapon.

"Break's over!" Gran Torino's voice boomed from atop a building, snapping them out of their tense exchange.

The team, now working in perfect sync, faced the final, fiercest wave of robots. The lesson had been learned. They moved like an orchestra of controlled chaos with Izuku as their near-precognitive conductor. The last robot, a heavy spider-like model, fell to a combined attack: Momo created a high-explosive sticky charge, Ochako made it weightless and floated it over, and Inko used a vector to slam it onto the robot's back right as Yu's fist came down to crush it. The timing was perfect, ending just as Gran Torino's invisible timer ran out.

"It's over," Izuku said, before falling to his knees, completely exhausted.

Gran Torino landed softly in front of them, his small figure casting a long shadow in the sunlight.

"You're still a disaster. Disorganized. Emotional. Dangerous."

He paused, and for the first time, a tiny, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips.

"But you're a dangerous disaster that knows how to work as a team. It's a start."

The team, covered in oil, dents, and the dust of battle, looked at each other. They were exhausted, their bodies screaming in pain, but there was something new in their eyes. They saw themselves not as a group of individuals with disparate powers, but as a true combat unit.