#QUETEIMPORTA NO
patreon
Chapter 22: A Therapeutic Fantasy
🕑 Added 2025-09-22 20:26:23 +0000 UTC"The couch," Izuku said, with a seriousness so out of place it was almost comical. His gaze was fixed on the splintered wood and torn upholstery. "It's definitely broken. And I think it was pine. A poor choice for a piece of furniture meant to bear weight."
Yu's voice was a high-pitched shriek, a mix of disbelief and a hysteria that was rising like the tide. She was on her knees in the middle of what used to be her living room, a naked giantess shrouded in the shadow of her own humiliation. The destroyed cushions were like small islands around her.
"The couch?! You're talking to me about the type of wood?!" she shouted, her voice echoing in the apartment. "I'm naked, Izuku! I'm nearly ten feet tall and I've just gone through the most mortifying experience of my entire life! And you're performing an autopsy on my furniture!"
"They're interconnected problems," he replied, his tone so calm it was absolutely infuriating. He crouched down to examine a broken leg, completely ignoring her panic. "The couch's structural failure was the trigger. If it had been oak, maybe it would have just sagged a little. But don't worry. I'm working on a solution to the main problem."
"The main problem is the couch?" she asked, her voice trembling.
"No," he said, finally looking up. "The main problem is you. The couch is secondary."
Instead of showing panic, embarrassment, or even the slightest hint of discomfort, Izuku's expression was one of pure, sincere appreciation. He had stood up, and his green eyes scanned Yu's body without the slightest attempt to be discreet. It wasn't the crude lust of a teenager, but the reverent intensity of a scholar who had just found a perfect specimen. His gaze traced the line of her wide shoulders, descended along the curve of her back, and lingered on the way her waist flared out to her hips and thighs. It was a look that stripped her bare more thoroughly than her own lack of clothing.
"What… what are you looking at?" she whispered, her voice trembling as she tried to cover herself with her hands. The gesture was useless, pathetic. Her hands barely covered a fraction of her torso.
"Perfection," he answered, his voice soft, without a hint of irony. He took a step closer, his expression completely serious. "I've studied hero anatomy for years. I've seen hundreds of heroes, with all kinds of physical Quirks. All Might, Endeavor, Mirko… But this…"
He made a vague gesture toward her.
"The way your body adapts, the tension in your musculature even at rest, the sheer presence you project… It's a work of art. The mass distribution is incredibly efficient. Are you feeling any joint pain from the change in scale?"
"What?" she stammered, completely thrown by the question. "I… I don't know. I'm too busy panicking to check on my knees!"
"You should. It could be an important data point," he muttered, more to himself than to her. "Biomechanics are fascinating."
With a calm that defied all logic, he turned, walked to the hall closet, and pulled out a white sheet. Yu watched him, paralyzed by that strange mix of clinical analysis and audacity. He approached her again, never taking his eyes off her for a second. He stopped right in front of her, still kneeling and vulnerable, and with a slow, deliberate motion, he placed the sheet over her shoulders. It was a strangely dual act: at once chivalrous in its intent, and dominant in its execution, taking complete control of the situation.
The fabric was cool against her hot, flushed skin. She clung to it as if it were a life raft, pulling at the edges to cover as much of herself as possible.
"Thank you…" she mumbled, not daring to look him in the eye.
"No problem," he said, his voice dangerously close. "Now, about the solution. I need you to focus."
She looked up. He was standing before her with an expression of absolute scientific seriousness, like a doctor about to explain a complex procedure.
"I have a theory to return you to your normal size," he began. "Listen to me carefully, Yu. This isn't a simple Quirk malfunction. If it were, you would have gotten stuck at one size, and that would be it. But your body is still… fluctuating. I can feel it."
"Fluctuating?" she repeated, confused.
"Yes. Your body is trapped in a state of high tension brought on by panic and embarrassment."
He spoke with such conviction that, despite the absurdity of the situation, a part of her couldn't help but listen. It sounded… logical. Too logical.
"An… imbalance?" she repeated, the word sounding stupid from her own mouth.
"Exactly. Think about it. The initial discharge of your Quirk, the shrinking, happened in a state of calm and safety. You were relaxed, almost asleep. To reverse this state of unstable growth, we need to recreate the initial condition of trust and proximity. We have to return your system to its base state."
"And how… how are we supposed to do that?" she asked, a knot of apprehension beginning to form in her stomach.
"By recreating the scenario," he continued, not missing a beat. "But that's not enough. The negative energy from the panic is too strong now. We need to counteract it. We need to introduce a positive and stabilizing emotional stimulus. Something potent. Something that will flood your system and force a reset."
He paused, staring at her intently. Yu found herself holding her breath, caught in the intensity of his gaze.
"And… what is that stimulus?" she asked, fearing the answer more than anything in the world.
Izuku looked her directly in the eyes, his expression so serious, so devoid of any deception, that it left no room for doubt.
"A kiss."
The silence that followed was so profound that Yu could hear the hum of the refrigerator and the frantic beating of her own heart. She blinked once, twice, waiting for him to laugh, to pat her on the shoulder and say it was a bad joke. But his face remained impassive, a mask of professional seriousness.
"A… kiss?" she finally managed to say, her voice barely a choked whisper.
"Yes," he confirmed, nodding slowly as if it were the most obvious conclusion in the world. "Think about it from a purely biological standpoint. It's the most direct and efficient transfer of positive emotional energy I know of. Trust, affection, intimacy… all concentrated at a single point of contact. It will override the panic on a neurochemical level, rebalance your system, and should allow your Quirk to stabilize and return you to your normal size. It's the only logical solution."
Yu stared at him, her mind racing, trying to find a flaw in the armor of his insane logic. A kiss! He wanted her to kiss him! Now! Like this! The proposal was so outrageous, so incredibly bold, that it left her breathless. But beneath the horror, a cold current of desperation began to flow.
What other choice did she have? Call the agency? Explain that her Quirk had gone haywire and she was now a naked giantess in her apartment? The humiliation would be professional, public. Call the police? The fire department? The situation was too strange, too personal.
She was trapped. Giant and naked in her own wrecked apartment. Her only hope of returning to normal was this strange, unsettling teenager who was looking at her as if she were a physics problem he was about to solve.
"You're crazy," she whispered, but the words sounded hollow, lacking conviction. It was a weak protest against a tide that was already dragging her under.
"I'm practical," he corrected, unfazed. His calm was his most powerful weapon. "Do you have a better theory? An alternative plan that doesn't involve demolishing a wall to get you out of here and becoming front-page news?"
She didn't. The mental image of a rescue team trying to lift her out with a crane made her shudder. She fell silent, clutching the sheet to her chest, her mind at war with itself. Shame fought against necessity. Logic fought against instinct. And desperation, cold, hard desperation, was winning.
She bowed her head, defeated. "Okay," she finally said, the word coming out like a bitter surrender, the sound of her own dignity shattering. "I'll do it."
An almost imperceptible shadow of triumph crossed Izuku's face before it was once again replaced by his professional seriousness.
"Excellent decision. Cooperation is vital for the experiment's success."
He crouched down and, with surprising effort, managed to right the remains of the couch, leaning it precariously against the wall. The frame groaned in protest. It wasn't stable, but it would have to do. Then, he sat on the least damaged edge and patted the space next to him, or rather, his own thighs.
"Let's proceed," he said, as if they were about to start a chess match. "Time is a factor. The longer you spend in this unstable state, the harder it might be to reverse."
For Yu, every movement was torture. She had to get up, dragging the sheet with her, feeling like a clumsy giant trying to navigate a doll's world. The process of getting back onto his leg was a work of tragic comedy that unfolded in tense silence.
"Wait, wait," she said, stumbling over the shattered coffee table. "I can't… my knees are too big."
"Bend your legs at a forty-five-degree angle and then rotate your hips," he instructed, with the patience of a yoga teacher. "Your center of gravity is key."
"Don't talk to me about my center of gravity!" she hissed, as the sheet slipped dangerously off one shoulder. "This is ridiculous."
She was too big. The sheet was slipping. Her bare knees bumped against his with a dull thud. The size difference made the position even more absurd and intimate than before. He was a normal-sized throne, and she was a giant, embarrassed queen.
Finally, after an eternity of clumsy readjustments, frustrated grunts from her, and infuriatingly calm instructions from him, she managed it. She was sitting astride his right thigh, precariously wrapped in the sheet, her immense body completely dwarfing his. Their faces were almost at the same height. She could feel the warmth of his body through the fabric of his jeans, a sensation that was too intimate, too real. Her own heart hammered against her ribs.
"Are you… comfortable?" he asked, his voice a low murmur. His breath brushed against her lips.
"Shut up," she growled, feeling a furious blush creep up her neck. "Just… get it over with."
"Right. Relax. Clear your mind," he said, his voice becoming soft, almost hypnotic. "Now, let's begin."
And without another word, he leaned his head forward.
The kiss began. It was clumsy, an inexperienced clash of lips and teeth. Yu's mind screamed in protest, a cacophony of humiliation and panic. But her body, exhausted by adrenaline and tension, simply gave in. She had no more strength to fight.
But then, something changed. The pressure of Izuku's lips softened, became more confident, more deliberate. One of his hands, which had been resting on her hip, slid up her back to the nape of her neck, his fingers tangling in her blonde hair, guiding her, tilting her head to the perfect angle. The kiss, which had started as a desperate clinical experiment, deepened. It grew longer and more sustained than either of them had expected. The outside world, the wrecked apartment, the humiliation, it all faded away. There was only the contact, the warmth, the strange, overwhelming sensation of his lips moving against hers.
And that's when he made his move.
While he was kissing her, distracting the conscious part of her brain with sensory overload, Izuku, with total and absolute audacity, slipped his other hand under the sheet. She felt the movement, a cool brush of his fingers against the hot skin of her lower back, but she was too lost in the strange, hypnotic sensation of the kiss to process or protest. His hand continued its journey south, firm and sure, without a hint of hesitation, until it rested on the curve of her bare buttock. He grabbed her with a possessive familiarity, his fingers gently squeezing the flesh, claiming the territory.
The combination was electric, a short circuit in her nervous system. The deep, unending kiss on her mouth, the brazen, forbidden caress on her rear. A surge of hot, crackling energy shot through her body from head to toe. She felt the familiar tingle of her Quirk activating, but this time it wasn't a violent, uncontrolled pull. It was a smooth contraction, a controlled return.
She began to shrink.
She felt her limbs shorten, her body return to its normal proportions, all while still in his arms, in the middle of that seemingly endless kiss. When she finally returned to her normal size, she landed softly in his lap, a normal-sized woman sitting on a normal-sized boy, the sheet now wrapped loosely around her.
Izuku broke the kiss. He looked at her, his green eyes shining with a triumphant light, and a smile of pure, absolute satisfaction spread across his face.
"See?" he said, his voice a victorious whisper, panting slightly. "It worked."
Yu stared at him, dazed. The world had stopped spinning. She was back. She was herself. She could feel her own familiar proportions, the normal weight of her body. A wave of euphoria so powerful washed over her that it swept away everything else: the shame, the anger, the panic. She barely processed his words. She only knew the nightmare was over.
She started to laugh. First it was a nervous giggle, then a full-blown laugh, a sound that was a little hysterical, filled with pure, absolute relief.
"It worked!" she repeated, her voice high with joy, almost crying. "Oh my god, I can't believe it worked! You… your crazy theory worked!"
Izuku smiled, a genuine smile, enjoying his victory and her unbridled joy. And taking advantage of her state of happy confusion, her guard completely down, he leaned in and kissed her again.
This time, there was no clumsiness. No hesitation. It was a deliberate, possessive kiss, the kiss of a victor. And Yu, flooded with euphoria and gratitude, responded instinctively. Her arms, which had been limp at her sides, wrapped around his neck, and she returned the kiss with a gratitude and relief that felt dangerously close to passion.
When the second kiss ended, she pulled back, panting slightly. Reality, slowly, with the same slowness that fog dissipates, began to settle back into her confused brain. She looked at him, the remnants of euphoria still shining in her eyes, but a new doubt, a practical question, was beginning to form.
"Wait a minute…" she said, frowning as logic began to reassert itself over emotion. "So… what does this mean? Are we going to have to do… that… every time I want to change size? Or if something goes wrong again?"
The idea was both terrifying and, to a very small, treacherous part of her that refused to be silenced, strangely exciting. Was this her new Quirk protocol? Therapeutic kissing and groping with her assistant? The idea was so professionally irresponsible it made her dizzy.
Izuku watched her, and the smile on his face changed. It lost its air of scientific triumph and became something much more cunning. Much more shameless. He leaned back slightly, savoring the moment.
"Honestly…" he said, his voice laced with an amusement she hadn't detected before, "…no, that probably wasn't necessary."
Yu's expression froze. The euphoric glow in her eyes was extinguished like a candle blown out in a single puff. It was replaced by total and utter confusion.
"What?"
He leaned a little closer, his warm breath on her cheek, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial, amused whisper.
"Come on, Yu. It's not every day you get an incredibly sexy, blonde, nearly ten-foot-tall, and completely naked professional heroine sitting in your lap, willing to kiss you," he explained, each word a small jab. "It was a little fantasy. A once-in-a-lifetime situation. And thanks to you, and a little scientific improvisation, it came true."
The world of Yu Takeyama, which had already been turned upside down twice that morning, stopped for a third time. It stopped, and then it shattered.
She was speechless, staring at him, processing the enormity of what he had just said. Everything. Every word. It had been a lie. An elaborate, detailed, and scientifically absurd manipulation to fulfill a… a fantasy! His fantasy!
An epic blush, a tsunami of hot blood, rose from her chest to the roots of her hair. She had been played. Totally, completely, and utterly played. And the worst part, the thing that made her feel even more stupid, was that a part of her wasn't even angry. She was too shocked, too impressed by the sheer audacity of the deception.
Yu's shock shattered, replaced by a supernova of indignation, humiliation, and fury. The air that had seemed to have been knocked out of her lungs came rushing back in with the force of a hurricane.
"IZUKUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!"
