The late afternoon sunlight fell gently through the modest living room, painting long golden streaks across the wooden floor. Izuku wiped the sweat from his brow, chest rising and falling from exertion, and looked over at Momo. She was watching him intently, eyes wide, her hands slightly trembling as she held the sword he had offered. The moment was quiet, suspended in that delicate balance of effort, trust, and curiosity.
"Izuku…you're…different," Momo breathed, voice barely audible. "You move…like nothing I've ever seen. How…"
"I…don't fully understand it yet," he admitted, straightening and brushing his hair back. "It's like…everything from before—the training, the fighting, even instincts from the memories—I can use, but I'm still learning to control it."
Momo stepped closer, and Izuku felt the warmth radiate from her. It wasn't just physical; there was something in the way she looked at him, a deep devotion, a subtle trust that made his heart pound. The system pulsed faintly in his mind. Devotion spike detected. Partner bond activated.
Her eyes fluttered as she reached toward a small object on the table, an ornate flower vase. Almost instinctively, the vase lifted into the air, spinning slowly above her hand. Izuku blinked, heart skipping a beat.
"Momo…?"
"I…don't know how!" she whispered, awe lacing her tone. Her eyes shone with amazement and something more—an exhilaration, a surge of power. Then she gasped softly as thin, shadowy appendages sprouted from her hands, curling like delicate, dark ribbons. They twined toward the ceiling and walls, responding to her intent. "Izuku…look! I can…move them! I…"
The system hummed in approval. Robin-like awakening detected. Potential for spatial manipulation and remote appendages unlocked. Devotion multiplier active.
Izuku stepped closer, placing a hand near hers, though not touching. "It's…amazing, Momo. You're incredible. This power—it's yours now. You just…believed in yourself, trusted yourself, and…maybe trusted me too."
Her cheeks flushed at the words. "I…trust you, Izuku," she whispered. The proximity, the warmth of her presence, the gravity in her gaze—it was overwhelming. His pulse raced.
They spent the next hour training in the small room. Momo's appendages responded to commands, delicate yet strong, brushing aside books or lifting heavier objects with growing confidence. Izuku guided her with gentle corrections, their hands brushing as he repositioned her stance. Every contact, every glance, every small smile increased the internal devotion metrics of the system.
As the sun dipped low and shadows stretched, Izuku prepared a small dinner: simple grilled vegetables, miso soup, and steamed rice. The smell filled the home, mingling with the subtle floral scent of Momo's perfume. They sat close together on the small table, the soft clink of utensils punctuating the quiet.
"You made all this?" Momo asked, reaching for a piece of food, her fingers brushing his.
"I…tried," he replied, smiling softly. "It's…for you."
Her eyes softened. "You always think about others, don't you?"
A light blush crept across his face. "I…just want to take care of you."
The air between them thickened, warm and intimate, as lingering touches and shy glances carried a tension neither could ignore. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, he leaned closer. Her breath hitched, a shiver running down her spine as their lips met in a tentative, soft kiss. The system quietly registered the first real devotion spike.
The rest of the evening passed in a haze of whispered conversation, hand brushes, and the soft murmur of closeness. When the night finally drew them toward rest, they parted reluctantly, a mutual understanding lingering in the space between them: this was only the beginning