Jiro's brain, which had been struggling valiantly to process the day's events, finally surrendered unconditionally.
Her face went through a fascinating series of color changes. White. Pink. Red. Deeper red. A shade of crimson that Izuku was fairly certain had no official name.
"WHAT?!"
The word came out at a volume and pitch that probably registered on seismographs three prefectures away.
"NO! AS IF! ME?! WITH HIM?!"
She pointed at Izuku with an accusing finger. Her earphone jacks had gone completely rigid, standing straight out from her head like exclamation points made flesh.
"THIS SMUG, PERVERTED, ARROGANT, SELF-ABSORBED—"
Izuku laughed.
It was a good laugh. Low and warm and completely unconcerned with Jiro's ongoing verbal assault. He shifted his position, draping one arm casually around Ochaco's shoulders in a gesture that was approximately forty percent friendly and sixty percent provocative.
Ochaco squeaked.
Jiro's tirade stuttered to a halt.
"Nah," Izuku said easily. "We're not dating. I'm single."
He paused.
"But I'm always accepting applications."
The reaction was everything he could have hoped for.
Her face somehow found an even deeper shade of red. Her earphone jacks, which had been standing at attention, shot forward with the speed of striking serpents. The rubbery flesh whipped across the space between them and cracked against his forearm with a sound like a snapping towel.
It stung.
Izuku didn't flinch.
"YOU SCUMBAG ASSHOLE!"
"Ow." He rubbed his arm. "What was that for?"
"FOR BEING YOU! FOR EXISTING! FOR THAT WHOLE... EVERYTHING THAT JUST CAME OUT OF YOUR MOUTH!"
Ochaco was watching with her mouth slightly open. Her cheeks were pink, but she hadn't pulled away from Izuku's arm. If anything, she seemed to be leaning into it slightly.
Interesting.
"I'm a greedy hero, you know?"
Izuku looked up at the sky. The dust was settling. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear the sounds of recovery vehicles moving through the destroyed streets.
"A true hero saves everyone they can." His voice was still light, still teasing, but his eyes had gone serious. "I don't do limits. I don't do 'good enough.' If I see someone who needs help, I help them. If I see something or someone I want, I take it."
He looked at Jiro.
Then at Ochaco.
His smile returned, warmer now but no less confident.
"Everything. Everyone. I want it all. And I'm willing to work harder than anyone else alive to get it."
Jiro opened her mouth.
Closed it.
Opened it again.
No sound came out.
Ochaco was staring at him with an expression that Izuku couldn't quite decipher. Her brown eyes were very wide. Her lips were slightly parted. The pink in her cheeks had deepened significantly.
That might have been too much, Izuku thought.
Nah. That was perfect.
"My, my. What a lively bunch."
The voice was elderly, gentle, and carried the unmistakable weight of authority.
All three teenagers turned.
A tiny old woman approached them, moving with the careful deliberation of advanced age. She wore a white lab coat over a visor, and carried a cane that looked suspiciously like an oversized syringe. Her hair was pulled back in a neat bun, and her eyes were sharp and knowing despite the wrinkles surrounding them.
Recovery Girl. Chiyo Shuzenji. The Youthful Heroine.
One of U.A.'s most legendary staff members.
"Are you children alright?" She stopped in front of them, her gaze sweeping over each teenager in turn. It lingered on Ochaco. "That was quite a scare you had, dearie. Let me take a look at that leg."
Ochaco blinked, then looked down at her own ankle. In the chaos and conversation, she seemed to have forgotten about her injury entirely. The skin around her ankle was purple and swollen, clearly bruised from being trapped under the concrete.
"Oh! Right. Ow."
Recovery Girl tutted softly. She bent down, moving with surprising grace for someone her age, and examined the damaged ankle with gentle fingers.
"Hairline fracture," she announced. "Nothing serious. Certainly nothing that can't be fixed." She glanced up at Ochaco with a warm smile. "This will just take a moment, dear. Don't be alarmed."
She leaned forward and pressed her lips to Ochaco's ankle.
A faint green glow spread from the point of contact.
Izuku watched with professional interest as the bruising visibly receded. The swelling diminished. Color returned to the damaged flesh. In the space of seconds, Ochaco's ankle went from "probably should see a doctor" to "good as new."
Healing Quirk. Cellular acceleration? No, that would require energy input. Transfer type? She's kissing the injury site directly, so there's probably a contact requirement. Interesting. Very interesting.
Ochaco let out a sigh of relief.
Then her eyes rolled back and she slumped sideways.
Directly onto Izuku's shoulder.
He caught her automatically, adjusting his position to support her weight. Her head lolled against his chest. Her breathing was slow and even. A small smile curved her lips, completely unaware that she was currently using a teenage boy as a pillow.
"Ah." Recovery Girl straightened up with a satisfied nod. "There we are. The healing uses up her own stamina. She'll be fine after a good nap."
Jiro was staring at the sleeping Ochaco with an expression that hovered somewhere between concern and something else. Something that looked almost like jealousy.
Cute.
Recovery Girl turned her attention to the other two teenagers. Her eyes were sharp despite her smile.
"The exam is over, children. You should head back to the main building and get yourselves cleaned up. Results will be mailed to you." She paused, her gaze settling on Izuku with something like recognition. "That was quite the impressive display, young man. I look forward to seeing what you can do with proper resources."
She moved off to tend to other students, leaving Izuku with an unconscious girl on his shoulder and a fuming punk rocker at his side.
Now or never.
He carefully adjusted Ochaco's position, making sure she was comfortable and secure against his shoulder.
Then he turned to Jiro.
She was watching him with a complicated expression. Irritation was there, definitely. But underneath it was something else. Something that might have been respect. Or curiosity. Or the beginning of something more interesting.
"Hey, Compass."
Her eyes narrowed. "What?"
"Don't want to lose track of my new favorite partner-in-crime." He held out his hand, palm up. "Phone."
"Excuse me?"
"Your phone. Give it."
"Why the hell would I give you my phone?!"
Izuku waited.
One eyebrow rose slowly.
The smirk never left his face.
Jiro sputtered. Her face cycled through several expressions. Outrage. Disbelief. Something that might have been appreciation for the sheer audacity.
"I'm not just going to give you my... you can't just... this is so..."
Izuku continued waiting.
His patience was legendary. Ten years of training under Hano had taught him many things. Chief among them was the ability to outlast any opponent through sheer, stubborn persistence.
Jiro lasted approximately fifteen seconds.
"FINE!"
She yanked her phone from her pocket and shoved it at him with enough force to leave bruises. Her face was red. Her jaw was clenched. Her earphone jacks were twitching spasmodically.
"Just take it! Add your stupid number! But if you send me anything weird I swear to god I will find you and I will hurt you!"
Izuku's fingers moved across the screen. He added his contact information, then opened her camera and took a selfie. The photo showed him smirking directly into the lens, green eyes gleaming with mischief, with an unconscious Ochaco still draped against his shoulder.
He set it as his contact photo.
"There." He handed the phone back. "Now you'll never forget what I look like."
Jiro looked at the screen.
Her eye twitched.
"I hate you."
"No you don't."
"Yes I do."
"You really don't."
"I really, genuinely, absolutely do."
Izuku stood up slowly, adjusting Ochaco's weight. She mumbled something in her sleep and nuzzled closer to his chest.
Like I said. Much better than a refrigerator.
He looked down at Jiro, who was still seated on the rubble, still clutching her phone, still glaring at him with an intensity that could melt steel.
"See you at school, Compass."
He turned and walked away.
Behind him, he heard Jiro's frustrated scream echo off the ruined buildings.