Izuku Midoriya’s life smelled of dog shampoo and broken dreams. Specifically, “Gentle Oatmeal Formula for Sensitive Coats” and the vague stench of a failed bodybuilder’s disappointment. Every morning, when he looked in the mirror, he didn’t see the future Mr. Olympia he had imagined in his adolescent delusions of grandeur. He saw a fifteen-year-old boy with an untamable mop of green hair, a constellation of freckles, and a physique that screamed ‘I try’ rather than ‘I’m a Greek god.’

It was all his Quirk’s fault. “Train.”

When it first manifested, the name had seemed like a promise. “Train! Of course! It’s a physical enhancement Quirk! I’ll train my muscles until they have muscles of their own! I’ll be a legend, a mountain of hand-sculpted power!” The reality, however, had been far less spectacular and a lot more… hairy. His Quirk had absolutely nothing to do with muscular hypertrophy. It didn’t matter how many weights he lifted or how many nauseating protein shakes he drank; his body simply responded like any other boy’s.

After months of frustrated exploration, he reached a depressing conclusion: his Quirk was for training dogs. That was it. He could make Mrs. Tanaka’s corgi sit with a ninety-eight percent success rate. He managed to get Mr. Hino’s bulldog to stop trying to bite mail carriers. He was a glorified dog-whisperer. And so, his dream of Olympic glory had transformed into a part-time job walking the neighborhood’s canine elite.

“No, Pochi, don’t eat that. It’s a gum wrapper. It’s not nutritious,” he said with the patience of a saint, gently pulling on the leash of the shiba inu that seemed to be on a suicide mission to consume all the trash in Musutafu. To his left, Brutus, a mastiff with a face that looked like it was contemplating war crimes, pulled with the force of a small tractor. And tangled in his legs, as always, was Fifi, a poodle that was eighty percent fluff and twenty percent pure evil.

“The life of a hero,” he muttered to himself with an irony that no longer even stung.

It was then that the world decided to remind him just how far he was from being one.

A crash, a guttural roar that vibrated through the asphalt, shook the street. The dogs started barking like crazy. People screamed. Izuku looked up, and his fanboy heart skipped a beat so hard it almost knocked the wind out of him.

“It’s a villain! Run!”

“He’s going to destroy the station!”

A man as tall as a three-story building, with the skin of a rhinoceros, was tearing up the elevated train tracks as if they were licorice. The chaos was absolute. But Izuku couldn’t look away. This was it. The real deal. The reason why, despite everything, he still filled notebooks with analyses of heroes he would never become.

And then, from the sky, she descended.

“Look! It’s a hero! A new one!”

Izuku saw her before the rest of the world could process it. A colossal figure, a goddess in purple spandex and ivory horns, descending with the grace of a meteorite. The first image his brain registered was a kick. A beige high-heeled boot connected with the villain’s jaw with a CRACK that silenced the crowd for a split second.

The camera in his mind zoomed in, devouring the image. The boot, the purple-clad calf, the knee, and then… the thigh. A universe of power and promise in a single limb.

The movement of her hip as she executed the kick was what broke something inside Izuku. It wasn’t just strength; it was perfect fluidity, a lethal grace. The heroine landed, and the asphalt groaned under her weight. She stood tall, haughty, colossal.

“My debut day, and I’m already taking out the trash!” her voice was a melodic thunder. “A wink for my new fans!”

She blew that wink, and the flash of a dozen cameras immortalized the moment. Izuku felt the air leave his lungs. His hand clenched into a fist. The dogs, forgotten, pulled at their leashes, but he was anchored to the spot.

Holy shit, he thought, and it was the most honest prayer he had ever uttered in his life. I. Need. That. In. My. Life.

Purpose hit him like a freight train. It wasn’t some vague dream of “saving people.” It was a tangible, monumental goal with curves that defied physics.

The battle, if you could call it that, was over in seconds. With the villain incapacitated, she used her size to take down the other with a simple shove. It was a crushing victory. A perfect debut.

But perfection is a fragile concept.

As the new hero, whom the crowd was already cheering as “Mt. Lady,” posed for another round of photos, a piece of debris from the train tracks broke loose. The already-damaged structure gave way. With a groan of tortured metal, an entire section of the track collapsed. Mt. Lady, caught mid-pose, turned and slipped.

She lost her balance.

Izuku watched her fall. It was in slow motion. A mountain of a woman stumbling backward, her arms flailing. She was going to fall. She was going to fall in the evacuated zone, where, thanks to a chain of cosmic bad luck, the only living being was a dog walker paralyzed by admiration.

Him.

Izuku couldn’t decide if it was good luck or bad luck that a giant butt was heading straight for him. His brain, short-circuiting with panic and teenage ecstasy, reached a swift conclusion.

This is the most epic way to die. Crushed by a sexy giant butt. There could be no more heroic death.

He closed his eyes, preparing for sweet oblivion. The end of the world smelled like victory and spandex.

But the impact never came. Or at least, not how he expected.

To his surprise, as she fell, Mt. Lady began to shrink. Her Quirk, likely due to panic, deactivated at a dizzying speed. She went from a skyscraper to a normal-sized woman in a matter of seconds.

The problem was that her trajectory didn’t change. Her landing point was still the same: Izuku’s face.

The last thing he saw before the world became darkness, softness, and an overwhelming scent of strawberries was a pair of perfectly round buttocks, wrapped in purple spandex, growing larger and larger.

The impact was soft, cushioned, and strangely pleasant. His head bounced against something that was simultaneously firm and springy. The world was reduced to three primal sensations.

First: her butt smelled like strawberries. It wasn’t an artificial scent, but fresh, like a strawberry field in summer. It was the most heavenly smell he had ever encountered.

Second: it was so plush. He could have taken a nap there and never woken up. It was the perfect pillow, the culmination of human comfort.

And third, and most importantly, was the sensation that shot through his body at the instant of contact. It wasn’t pain. It was a spark. A current of warm, strange energy flowed from his face, through his Quirk, and directly into the woman sitting on him. He didn’t see a manual. He didn’t read any data. He felt it. He felt his own power, that useless dog-training Quirk, connect with her and do something.

He felt her butt become, subtly, almost imperceptibly… a little bigger. Firmer. More… perfect.

In that instant, Izuku Midoriya discovered that his power wasn’t for training dogs. And he thought, with a clarity he had never experienced before, that he had reached the pinnacle of life.

“Oh my God! Are you okay? I am so, so sorry!”

The voice, now at a normal volume and dangerously close, was laced with panic. The weight lifted off his face. The light returned. And with it, the most incredible sight he would ever behold.

Mt. Lady, or rather, Yu Takeyama in her normal form, was kneeling beside him. Her face, without the filter of distance and gigantism, was even more beautiful. Flushed cheeks, hazel eyes full of concern, and a lock of blonde hair falling across her forehead. She was so close he could count her eyelashes.

But Izuku wasn’t looking at her face.

His gaze was fixed, with the intensity of a laser, on the part of her anatomy he had just used as a cushion. Her butt. Even through the spandex, he could notice the subtle change. It was rounder. It had a slightly more pronounced curve. It was a work of art. His work of art.

“Hello? Can you hear me? Did I break anything?” Yu’s voice snapped him out of his trance.

Fortunately, the area where she had fallen was deserted. The police had cordoned off a much wider perimeter. There was no one to witness the humiliating and bizarre scene. No one except Izuku, who was still on the ground, a look of pure ecstasy on his face.

“It’s… perfect,” he managed to say, his voice a hoarse whisper.

Yu blinked, confused. And that’s when she noticed it. She stood up, and a strange look crossed her face. She felt her butt with both hands. The confusion turned to panic.

“What…? It feels… bigger!” she exclaimed, her voice jumping an octave. She turned, trying to look over her shoulder. “No way! My costume! It feels tighter! What did you do to me?”

“I improved it,” Izuku replied with a simplicity so honest it left her speechless.

“Improved? What does ‘improved’ mean? I don’t want an ‘improved’ butt, I want my own!” she shrieked, her panic rising.

And then she noticed another detail.

“The dogs! Where are the dogs?”

Izuku looked around. The leashes were on the ground, chewed and broken. Brutus, Pochi, and Fifi had taken advantage of the chaos to stage their own great escape. They were gone.

He was so getting fired. Definitely. Losing three client dogs in the middle of a villain attack was probably one of the first things in the “How to be a Terrible Dog Walker” handbook.

But Izuku didn’t care. He had lost his job, but he had found his purpose.

“Change me back!” Yu begged him, her face a mixture of embarrassment and desperation.

Izuku got up, dusting himself off. He didn’t take his eyes off Mt. Lady’s butt. He saw it as if it were the most perfect object in existence, a masterpiece made by the greatest sculptor. In other words, himself.

His brain, at last, began to connect the dots. His Quirk. “Train.” The contact. The improvement. Training wasn’t always positive. Sometimes, to correct a behavior, you needed a… corrective action. A sharp stimulus. A spank.

It was the most twisted, hormonal logic in the world, but to him, in that moment, it made perfect sense.

“I think I know how,” he said with a calmness that scared her.

“How? Tell me! I’ll do anything!”

“I need you to turn around.”

She stared at him, incredulous. “What for?”

“To… calibrate,” he improvised. “I have to apply the Quirk again, but in reverse. It’s a delicate process. I need the right angle.”

Yu Takeyama, the newest hero in Japan, the woman who had just faced down two giant villains without blinking, found herself in a situation no hero academy could have ever prepared her for. She was desperate. She turned slowly, giving him her back.

“Like this?”

Izuku stepped closer. His heart was beating so hard he was sure she could hear it. The scent of strawberries was overwhelming. He raised his hand, trembling. And with a decision that would define the rest of his life, he spanked her.

SMACK!

The sound was sharp, clean, and oddly satisfying. His palm connected with the spandex with a firmness that surprised them both. At the instant of impact, he felt the same current of energy, but this time, in reverse. He felt his Quirk activate and undo the change.

Mt. Lady jumped, a small, choked gasp escaping her lips. She was stunned, her face burning with shame. This kid… this total stranger… had he just spanked her?

But the sensation that followed wasn’t just humiliation. It was a surge of energy. She felt… slightly stronger. More focused. And when she felt herself again, she noticed her butt had returned to its normal size: glorious and perfect.

She turned around slowly, an expression of utter disbelief on her face. She looked at the boy, who still had his hand in the air, as if he had just performed a sacred act.

He looked her in the eyes, and a smile of pure, absolute conviction spread across his face.

“It worked,” he said.

And in that precise moment, Izuku Midoriya knew, without a single doubt, what he had to do with his life.