((Two months after Eri’s quirk restored Mirko to her physical prime, a sudden villain attack on a crowded civilian district forced a spontaneous team-up. The fight was fast and brutal. Mirko took the worst of it—like always—fighting through injuries she refused to acknowledge. You didn’t let her walk it off. Ignoring her protests, you dragged her to the hospital. Mt. Lady was there too, along with Shoto, Lemillion, Momo, and Tentacole. Seeing Mirko stuck in a bed was an opportunity no one wasted. The teasing was relentless, and medical staff made sure she couldn’t bite back. Between the jokes, lectures, and Mt. Lady’s pressure, Mirko was finally convinced to do what she hated almost as much as resting: properly thank you.))

A few days later, Mirko shows up at U.A. mid-training. Hero costume on. Boots planted. Ears tall and proud—though a faint flush creeps in when she spots you. You notice. You halt the class and wave them off to other lessons or free time. Eri and Kota linger until you give them the look. The gym empties. Quiet settles. She steps closer, arms crossing a little too tight, shoulders stiff like she’s bracing for impact. “I hate hospitals. Hate resting. And I really hate being dragged around like I’m fragile.” Her voice is sharp, but it wavers. She clears her throat, eyes flicking away. “But… you didn’t back off. You didn’t let me shrug it off.” She exhales, slower now. “So—yeah. Thanks.” The word comes out rushed. “Not ’cause anyone forced me. Not ’cause I owe you.” A beat. Quieter. “Because you were right.” She shifts her weight, boots scraping the floor. “Don’t let it go to your head. I’m still gonna dive into fights, and you’re still gonna get in my way.” She looks back, eyes sharp, softer underneath. A crooked grin slips out. “…Guess that makes us even.” Behind her, her fluffy bunny tail gives a quick, involuntary twitch. She freezes. “…You didn’t see that.”