Hero Trainer: Choke Me With Those Thighs!

U.A. was a living organism, and its hallways were the arteries pumping students from one place to another. Izuku moved against the current, a feeling that was becoming more and more familiar.

"Shit, shit, shit," he muttered to himself, dodging a group of students from the support course. "How could I forget my physics book on the day we have physics? It's like forgetting your bullets on the day of a battle. Present Mic is going to disintegrate me with his sound waves."

His haste was a blur of motion. He turned a corner into a secondary hallway he had discovered was quieter, perfect for a quick raid on his locker without having to navigate the human traffic. He hadn't counted on someone else having the same idea.

Momo Yaoyorozu was seeking tranquility. Leaning against the wall, far from the bustle, she was trying to absorb a particularly dense paragraph on polymer catalysis before class began.

"The entropy of the system must decrease, therefore, the enthalpy..."

The world became a dull impact and the sensation of flying backward.

"Watch out! Shit, I'm sorry!" a voice shouted, far too close.

"Oh!" was the only sound Momo could make before gravity reclaimed her.

But the floor never came. A pair of hands, firm and surprisingly strong, caught her by the torso, stopping her fall cold. His hands, by a purely accidental and unfortunate reflex, landed squarely on her breasts.

The silence that followed was absolute. And deafening.

Izuku froze, his hands still where they had landed. Momo was paralyzed, her gray eyes fixed on his, her brain trying to process the collision and the current position of his hands. A second passed, an eternity. Social protocol dictated an immediate apology and the removal of his hands. Izuku's brain, however, chose a different path: the path of empirical analysis.

His first words, muttered in a tone of pure, honest scientific curiosity, broke the silence.

"Whoa. They're incredibly comfortable. And springy. Such good cushioning."

Momo's jaw might have unhinged if she weren't paralyzed by the shock. Before she could form a response, a curse, or a scream, she saw Izuku's eyes lose focus, widening with a shock that had nothing to do with her.

"What is this voice?" he whispered, his voice a trembling thread. "It's not a voice... it's... text."

An avalanche of information—clear, crisp, and overwhelming—crashed into his consciousness; not as thoughts, but as pure data unfolding before his mind's eye:

QUIRK ANALYSIS INITIATED: DIRECT CONTACT + SIGNIFICANT LIPID RESERVE DETECTED BOOSTER MODE ACTIVATED BY PROXIMITY TO FUEL SOURCE

QUIRK NAME: CREATION USER: MOMO YAOYOROZU

LINKED PHYSIOLOGY: Converts epidermal lipids into inert matter. The precision of the created object is directly dependent on the user's molecular comprehension. The process requires a high caloric intake to maintain fuel reserves.

CURRENT LIMITS: Creation speed limited by a sequential mental process ('one layer at a time'). Subconscious block on creating objects perceived as 'too complex,' even with complete molecular knowledge. Inefficiency in creating multiple distinct objects simultaneously.

UNTAPPED POTENTIAL: Latent ability for 'Macro-Creation,' forming complex, multi-part objects in a single, fluid action. Latent ability for 'Simultaneous Creation' of up to five (5) simple, non-identical objects. Latent potential to create non-living complex organic matter (wood, silk, bone fiber) with focused study.

SUGGESTED EVOLUTIONARY PATH: 1. Visualization exercises to conceptualize objects as a unified whole, not as separate parts. 2. Expansion of the 'molecular library' through the study of organic chemistry and advanced biology. 3. Diet high in calories and healthy fats (avocados, nuts, olive oil) to optimize the Quirk's fuel quality and efficiency.

ANALYSIS COMPLETE.

The flood of text ceased. The shock on Izuku's face mutated, replaced by a feverish and desperate scientific urgency. He looked at Momo, his eyes shining with a madness she found genuinely terrifying. And the most terrifying thing of all was that his hands hadn't moved.

"No, no, I'm going to forget it! It's too much!" he exclaimed, as if waking up. "Don't move! Please, don't move an inch! I need you to create a pencil and a notepad! Right now! Quick, before it slips my mind!"

Momo, who had finally found her voice, stammered, "W-what? Let go of me immediately! This is...!"

"Please, trust me!" he interrupted, his gaze so intense it took her breath away. "It's important! Pencil and paper! For science! I'll explain everything, I swear! But I need to write it down!"

Overcome by the sheer intensity of the situation, by the absolute conviction in his voice, and by her brain's strange inability to categorize what was happening, Momo obeyed. A shimmering layer of skin on her forearm rippled, and from it emerged a small spiral notebook and a perfectly formed pencil. It was an act of pure confusion and reflex.

"Perfect!" Izuku exclaimed, his face lit with relief.

He released her right breast—a partial liberation for which Momo felt absurdly grateful—only to snatch the pad and pencil from her. And then, to her renewed horror, he began to write. He wrote with a feverish speed, bracing the notepad against the wall with his free hand, his pencil flying across the paper.

Meanwhile, his left hand remained firmly planted in its original spot.

"Midoriya-san..." she began, her voice trembling.

"Shhh, one second," he muttered without looking at her, completely absorbed. "I'm on the evolutionary path... this is pure gold..."

"My... my chest," she managed. "Your hand."

"Oh, right. The hand. Connection," he replied distractedly, as if explaining a trivial fact. "I need to maintain contact to ensure the fidelity of the recalled data. It's a principle of... of my Quirk. I think. Please, just one more minute. This is revolutionary!"

Momo was speechless. The audacity of his logic left her paralyzed. A principle of his Quirk? Data fidelity? It was the most absurd justification she had ever heard.

As Izuku transcribed the complex idea of "Simultaneous Creation," his concentration intensified. Unconsciously, his fingers flexed, squeezing slightly, as if trying to physically extract the information.

Momo let out a small, choked gasp, a sharp sound that finally pierced Izuku's scientific bubble.

He stopped. He blinked. He looked at the pencil, then the notepad, and finally glanced down at his left hand as if he had just discovered it. His eyes widened in realization.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, as if it had just dawned on him. "I'm sorry! A thousand apologies! I got carried away by the data! The efficiency of lipid conversion is a fascinating topic! I lost track!"

He snatched his hand back as if the surface had turned to lava. He took two clumsy steps back, finally creating a chasm of personal space between them. The air in the hallway, however, was still charged with a tension that could have been cut with a knife of Momo's own creation.

Izuku, now red with embarrassment but still vibrating from the discovery, tore the page from the notepad and held it out to her. His hand was trembling slightly.

"Read this. Please."

Mechanically, like an automaton, Momo took the paper. She needed proof. She needed a reason for the madness she had just endured. And she got it.

She began to read, whispering the words in a disbelieving thread of a voice.

"'Quirk Name: Creation... Linked Physiology... Lipid conversion...' Yes, that's correct... 'Current Limits: Sequential mental process...' How...? 'Subconscious block for objects perceived as 'too complex'...' "

She stopped. That was her secret frustration. The reason why sometimes, even with the molecular blueprints memorized, she would fail to create something. It was a barrier she had always attributed to a lack of concentration, not a psychological block.

She read on, her eyes widening with each line.

"'Untapped Potential... Macro-Creation? Simultaneous Creation of up to five objects? Non-living... organic matter? Wood, silk...?'"

The notepad nearly fell from her hands. She had theorized about creating simple organic polymers, but she had never dared to think of structures as complex as wood. And the evolutionary path... visualization exercises, an expansion of her "molecular library"... a specific diet. It was a complete, personalized training plan.

She looked up, the paper crinkling in her fist. "How...?" her voice was a whisper loaded with a demand. "This is... impossible. It violates every law of privacy and logic. How could you know about the subconscious block? How could you deduce the part about organic matter? Answer me!"

The vulnerability returned to Izuku's face. He ran a hand through his hair, avoiding her gaze.

"I didn't deduce it. I read it. It's my Quirk," he said, his voice barely audible. "Or what I think it is. I don't fully understand it. I call it 'Booster.' It analyzes other Quirks, shows me the... the user manual. But it's inconsistent. Sometimes it doesn't work. Sometimes it's blurry. But for it to work, for there to be any chance at all, I need... contact."

He finally looked at her, and the desperation in his eyes was genuine. "This has never happened before. Not like this. With you, it was... like going from a tube TV to an 8K screen. It was instantaneous, complete. I don't know why. I don't know if it's a glitch in my power, if you're some kind of... I don't know, a natural amplifier, or if it was a cosmic fluke. And it terrifies me. Because if I can't understand it, I can't control it. And a power you can't control is useless."

He paused, taking a deep breath. "I need to experiment. I need data. And for that, I need a partner. Someone who won't run away screaming. Someone I can trust."

Momo stared at him, her logical brain trying to assemble the pieces. It was insane. But the proof was in her hand. The obvious question arose: 'Why me?'

As if he had heard the silent question, Izuku looked her directly in the eye, his expression shifting from vulnerability to a sincerity so direct and strange it completely disarmed her.

"Because I needed to trust someone," he repeated. "And I have a theory. A sort of guiding principle I've been developing." He stood up a little straighter, like a scholar about to present his thesis. "My hypothesis is as follows: there is a direct and positive correlation between a woman's bust size and the magnitude of her inherent benevolence. In simpler terms: big-breasted girls have big hearts."

The brain of Momo Yaoyorozu, one of the most brilliant and orderly of her generation, shut down. She blue-screened. A fatal system error.

"I tested it with Uraraka-san," he continued, completely serious. "She was my Case Study A. And my hypothesis was confirmed. She's one of the kindest, most loyal people I've ever met. So, when I met you, and I observed... well, the empirical variables..."

His gaze dropped to her chest for a fraction of a second, a purely clinical gesture, and then returned to her eyes.

"...you have the largest breasts in the class. In fact, in the whole school, from what I've seen so far. Therefore, applying my theory, your heart must be the biggest of all. Your capacity for understanding and trust must be, logically, the highest. That's why I chose you. It was the most rational decision."

Silence. A silence so profound Momo could hear the hum of the fluorescent lights in the hallway. She opened her mouth. She closed it.

"I... you... the logic... no..." she stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence. "That... that is completely absurd! It's the most ridiculous, unscientific, and offensive premise I have ever heard in my life!"

Izuku seemed genuinely surprised by her reaction. "Unscientific? But it has a validated case study."

Seeing that she hadn't blasted him with a cannon from her Quirk, and that she was merely standing there, trembling, her face the color of a poppy, he interpreted her stupefaction as a form of tacit acceptance. His logic had prevailed.

He smiled, satisfied. "I knew you'd understand. You're a logical person."

He turned, ready to go get his physics book as if nothing had happened. "See you in class."

He stopped at the threshold of the hallway and turned back, as if remembering a crucial postscript for his report.

"Oh, by the way. You have very comfortable breasts. Scientifically speaking, of course. The density-to-elasticity ratio offers excellent impact absorption capabilities. It's fascinating."

And with that, he disappeared around the corner.

The bell rang, a shrill shriek that snapped her out of her trance. Momo was left alone in the hallway, staring at the paper in her hand, the proof of a madness that had rewritten the rules of her own being.