The gym was massive, with padded floors and mirrored walls. Most of our class had already arrived, clustering in small groups. Todo stood off to the side, arms crossed, while Midoriya muttered to himself about proper stance techniques.
"Alright," Aizawa's voice echoed through the space. "Basic combat assessment. No quirks. Pairs will spar until one person yields or gets pinned for three seconds."
Katsumi's hand shot up. "Can we pick our partners?"
"No. I will." Aizawa pulled out his phone. "First match: Bakugo versus Nakamura."
Of course.
Katsumi's grin was downright feral as she stepped onto the mat. "Ready to get your ass kicked?"
"Language," I said, rolling my shoulders. "There are children present."
"I'll show you fucking language-"
"Begin," Aizawa called.
Katsumi launched forward, leading with a right hook that would have taken my head off if I hadn't seen it coming three moves ago. I stepped inside her guard, redirecting her momentum past me.
"Stay still!" She spun, throwing a series of rapid punches.
"No." I weaved between her strikes, noting the patterns. Strong technique, but predictable. All offense, no patience. "Your footwork's sloppy."
"Shut up!" She aimed a kick at my ribs.
I caught her ankle, using her own force to sweep her other leg. She hit the mat hard but rolled away before I could pin her.
"Stop playing around!" She charged again.
"Make me."
More strikes, each wilder than the last. She was good - probably trained in some form of martial arts. But she relied too heavily on power over precision.
"Fight back, you coward!"
"Why?" I ducked another punch. "This is more fun."
Her growl of frustration told me I'd struck a nerve. Her next attack was pure rage - exactly what I'd been waiting for.
I stepped in close, caught her overextended arm, and used her own momentum to flip her over my hip. She landed flat on her back, and I dropped to pin her shoulders before she could recover.
"One," Aizawa started counting. "Two-"
Katsumi thrashed, trying to break free. But I had leverage and position.
"Three. Match over."
I stood, offering her a hand up. She slapped it away.
"That was bullshit! You were just playing around!"
"Yes." I stretched my arms above my head. "Want to know why you lost?"
"Because you're a fucking-"
"Because you got angry." I met her glare steadily. "You've got good form when you're calm. The second you let emotions take over, you get sloppy."
She opened her mouth, probably to curse me out again, but Aizawa cut her off.
"He's right. Control your temper or it will control you." He checked his phone. "Next match: Todoroki versus Midoriya."
I moved to the edge of the mat, watching as Midoriya nervously took his place. His stance was better than this morning - he learned fast.
"Hey."
I glanced over to find Jiro standing next to me. "Hey."
"That was... impressive."
"Thanks."
"Where'd you learn to fight like that?"
"Around." I kept my eyes on the match. Hitomi was systematically dismantling Midoriya's defense.
"Around?" Jiro raised an eyebrow. "That's not cryptic at all."
"I try."
She studied me for a moment. "You know, being mysterious isn't actually a personality trait."
"Neither is being sarcastic, but that doesn't seem to stop you."
"Touché." She turned back to the match just as Hitomi pinned Midoriya. "Think you could teach me some of those moves?"
"Why?"
"Because I don't want to get my ass kicked like Bakugo just did?"
I snorted. "Fair enough. But you'll have to wake up early."
"How early?"
"Five AM."
"Never mind. I choose death."
The matches continued. Todo versus Yaoyorozu (Todo won through pure technical skill). Kaori versus Kaminari (she toyed with him for a solid minute before ending it). Iida versus Ashido (his formal karate training gave him the edge).
Aizawa cleared his throat. "Decent showing overall. But there's room for improvement." His eyes swept the class. "Some of you rely too heavily on strength over technique. Others hesitate too much. We'll work on both."
He pulled out a stack of papers. "Partner assignments for the semester. Find yours and start working on the basic forms I'm about to demonstrate."
I scanned the list until I found my name.
Nakamura Yoichi - Jiro Kyoka
"Looks like you'll get those lessons after all," I said as Jiro walked up.
"Yeah, but at a reasonable hour." She dropped into a fighting stance. "Show me how you did that flip thing on Bakugo."
"Which one?"
"The one that made her look like a rage-filled turtle."
"That... doesn't narrow it down much."
The rest of class passed in a blur of basic forms and technique drills. Jiro picked things up quickly, though she had a bad habit of telegraphing her moves.
"Stop looking where you're going to strike," I told her after the fifth time I caught her punch. "Might as well send up a flare."
"Easy for you to say." She shook out her hand. "How are you reading my moves so fast anyway?"
"Experience." I adjusted her stance slightly. "And you keep doing this thing with your shoulder before you attack."
"I do not-" She stopped. "Wait, how long have I been doing that?"
"Since we started."
"Why didn't you say something earlier?"
"More fun this way."
She kicked at my shin. I stepped back, laughing.
"Jerk." But she was smiling too. "Seriously though, where did you learn all this?"
I thought about Kuro-sensei's idea of "training" - which mostly involved throwing me into increasingly dangerous situations and calling it character building.
"Getting thrown off cliffs," I said.
"Bullshit."
"Language."
"You sound like Todoroki."
"Take that back."
The bell rang before she could respond.
"Remember to review the forms," Aizawa called as we headed for the locker rooms. "We'll be building on them next class."
I slumped into my seat for Mathematics, already dreading the inevitable headache. Numbers were fine - I could do calculations all day. It was remembering where I put my calculator that was the problem.
Ectoplasm materialized at the front of the room, his clones spreading out to different corners. "Pop quiz. Let's see what you remember from high school."
A collective groan rose from the class. I glanced at the first problem - trajectory calculations for rescue scenarios. Simple enough, though the multiple variables made it interesting.
"Psst." Kaminari leaned forward. "What's the formula for-"
"Cheating will result in automatic failure," one of the Ectoplasm clones said from directly behind him.
Kaminari yelped, nearly falling out of his chair.
The rest of class passed in a blur of equations and rescue scenarios. I finished early, using the extra time to watch Ectoplasm's clones. The way they moved, perfectly synchronized yet independent...
"Time," Ectoplasm called. "Pass your papers forward."
Lunch was chaos as usual. I grabbed a spot next to Todo, who was methodically deconstructing his rice bowl like it had personally offended him.
"The rice to protein ratio is incorrect," he said without looking up.
"Fascinating." I stole one of his pickled vegetables. "You going to eat that or perform an autopsy?"
"Both, potentially."
Katsumi dropped into the seat across from us, still radiating irritation from Combat Training. "You're both weird as fuck."
"Language," Todo and I said simultaneously.
She pointed her chopsticks at us. "Stop that."
Modern Literature with Present Mic was... loud. Very loud.
"YEAH!" He shouted into his directional speaker. "WHO'S READY TO EXPLORE THE FASCINATING WORLD OF MEDIA ANALYSIS?"
I rubbed my temples, already feeling a headache forming. At least the material was interesting - current media portrayal of heroes versus historical coverage.
"Nakamura!" Present Mic's voice pierced my skull. "What's your take on the shift in hero media coverage post-All Might?"
"More sensationalized," I said, keeping my eyes closed. "Focus shifted from actual heroics to marketability. Plus the rise of social media means heroes have to manage their personal brand more carefully."
"CORRECT!"
Rescue Operations with Thirteen was surprisingly technical. We spent the first hour just going over basic safety protocols and equipment checks.
"Remember," they said, demonstrating proper harness adjustment, "the difference between a successful rescue and a tragedy often comes down to preparation."
"Boring," Katsumi muttered.
"Boring saves lives," I replied, double-checking my carabiner setup. "Unless you want to explain to someone's family that their loved one died because you couldn't wait five seconds to check your gear."
She shut up after that.
Tuesday started with Modern Hero Art History, which was less about art and more about Midnight making increasingly suggestive comments about historical figures.
"And that's why Crimson Riot's costume design was revolutionary for its time," she said, striking a pose that definitely wasn't classroom appropriate. "Any questions?"
Several hands shot up.
"Questions about the actual material," she clarified.
Most hands went down.
Advanced Mathematics felt like psychological warfare. Ectoplasm had us calculating probability curves for multiple rescue scenarios simultaneously.
"In a real crisis," he said, his clones passing out yet another worksheet, "you'll need to make these calculations instantly. Lives depend on split-second decisions."
"But we have phones," Kaminari protested. "Can't we just-"
"Your phone is destroyed. The power is out. You have thirty seconds to determine which building to evacuate first. Go."
Foundational Hero Studies with Cementoss was surprisingly engaging. He had a dry sense of humor that snuck up on you.
"The law states that heroes must minimize property damage," he said, creating a small cement sculpture of All Might. "This is, of course, why we can't have nice things."
The sculpture exploded into dust.
"Now, who can tell me the primary factors in determining reasonable force?"
My hand went up. "Threat level, civilian presence, and environmental conditions. But there's debate about whether economic impact should be considered a primary or secondary factor."
"Correct. And your opinion on that debate?"
"Depends on the situation. Saving lives always comes first, but if you have multiple viable options, choosing the one that doesn't level a city block seems reasonable."
"Unless that city block belongs to an insurance fraud ring," Hitomi said coolly.
The class went silent.
"That's... oddly specific," Cementoss said.
Hitomi shrugged and went back to her notes.
Thirteen's class rounded out day two, with another deep dive into safety protocols that had Katsumi practically vibrating with restrained rage in her seat.
"While your quirks are incredible tools for rescue work," Thirteen said, gesturing to a holographic display of disaster scenarios, "they can just as easily make things worse without proper procedure."
I jotted down notes, watching as the simulation showed a well-meaning hero accidentally collapsing an unstable building while trying to save civilians.
"That's why we'll be starting with basic rescue certification," Thirteen continued. "Every hero needs to know how to properly assess structural damage, handle hazardous materials, and perform emergency medical care."
"But we're here to fight villains," Katsumi growled under her breath.
"You can't fight villains if you accidentally kill the civilians you're trying to protect," I whispered back.
She flipped me off without looking away from Thirteen.
"We'll be putting these lessons into practice soon," Thirteen said, switching off the hologram. "So I strongly suggest reviewing the safety manual tonight. Especially chapter three on building collapse protocols."
Kaminari raised his hand. "Is this going to be on a test?"
"In a manner of speaking." Thirteen's mask somehow managed to look ominous. "Though I find practical examinations more effective than written ones."
The class shifted uncomfortably.
After an intense study hall led my Midnight, I headed back to my dorm, manual tucked under my arm. The halls were quiet - most students probably still in the library cramming for Thirteen's inevitable "practical examination."
My room was exactly as I'd left it this morning - bed unmade, desk covered in papers, and absolutely no sign of my calculator. Again.
I flopped onto the bed, putting on a playlist through my speakers and flipping through the manual one last time. The technical details were straightforward enough, but something about Thirteen's warning stuck with me. They'd emphasized building collapse scenarios pretty heavily...
A knock at my door interrupted my thoughts.
"It's open," I called.
Jiro poked her head in. "Hey, you got the notes from Thirteen's class? I kind of zoned out during the chemical hazard section."
I stared at Jiro standing in my doorway. If she needed notes, Yaoyorozu lived three doors down. That girl probably had color-coded annotations with cross-references.
"Is this Tame Impala?" Jiro asked, stepping into my room.
I nodded slowly. "You know him?"
She gave me a look like I'd just asked if water was wet, pointing at her earphone jacks. "Music family, remember? My dad played 'Innerspeaker' as a lullaby."
"Weird lullaby choice."
"Says the guy playing 'Borderline' at-" she checked her phone, "-9:43 PM."
"Borderline is a masterpiece."
"It's not even the best song on 'The Slow Rush.'"
I sat up. "Excuse me?"
"'Posthumous Forgiveness' exists." She dropped into my desk chair, spinning to face me. "Better production, more emotional depth, actually says something meaningful."
"'Borderline' says plenty."
"About what? Being famous and doing drugs?" She rolled her eyes. "Revolutionary."
"The existential uncertainty of-"
"Oh my god, you're one of those fans."
"At least I didn't try to claim 'The Less I Know The Better' was his peak."
"Because 'New Person, Same Old Mistakes' exists?"
"That's not even-" I stopped. "Okay, that one's actually fair."
"Thank you." She looked around my room, taking in the organized chaos of papers and books. "Still need those notes though."
"Yaoyorozu probably has a whole study guide ready."
"Yeah, but she'll make me actually study. You'll just give me the important parts."
"Bold of you to assume I was paying attention."
"Please, you're like Todo - secretly a huge nerd." She picked up one of the papers from my desk. "Case in point: who takes notes on the patterns of different acids?"
I snatched the paper back. "Someone who doesn't want to get melted."
"Nerd."
"Says the girl who can probably name every bass player from the last fifty years."
"That's different."
"How?"
"It's cooler."
I snorted. "Right. Much cooler to know that John Paul Jones-"
"Don't you dare try to explain Led Zeppelin to me." She pointed her jacks at me threateningly. "I will end you."
"With what, a history of progressive rock?"
"With the fact that you definitely own a vinyl of 'Lonerism.'"
"...I hate that you're right about that."
She grinned. "Knew it. Bet you think 'Mind Mischief' is underrated too."
"It is!"
"Basic."
I pulled out my rescue operations notes. "Do you want the hazmat classifications or not?"
"Fine, fine." She held up her hands in surrender. "But we're not done with this conversation."
"Clearly." I handed her the relevant pages. "The red highlights are the stuff Thirteen emphasized."
She flipped through them. "Your handwriting is terrible."
"Yet still better than Kaminari's."
"A drunk chicken with a pencil tied to its foot writes better than Kaminari."
I watched as she took pictures of the notes with her phone. There was definitely more to this late-night visit than borrowed notes, but I wasn't going to push. Sometimes people just needed an excuse to not be alone with their thoughts.
"'Eventually' is better than both 'Borderline' and 'Posthumous Forgiveness' anyway," she said, still scrolling through photos.
"Now you're just trying to start a fight."
"Am I wrong?"
"...no, but you didn't have to say it."
She laughed, and something in the sound made me think I'd been right about her reasons for coming here.
"Want to listen to 'Currents' and argue about track rankings?" I asked.
"God yes." She pulled out her phone. "But we're fixing this. Your audio setup is garbage."
"It is not-"
"You have the speakers way too close together. The stereo separation is completely off."
I looked at my perfectly normal speaker arrangement. "They're fine."
"They're a crime against music." She started rearranging them. "How do you even hear the bass response like this?"
"Some of us don't have built-in equalizers."
"Clearly." She finished adjusting everything and sat back. "Much better."
The opening notes of 'Let It Happen' filled the room. I had to admit, it did sound clearer.
"Don't say it," she warned.
"Wasn't going to."
"You were thinking it."
"Thinking what?"
"That I was right about the speakers."
"I would never."
She threw the pillow back at me.
We spent the next hour debating song rankings and production choices, our voices getting quieter as the night got later. Around 1 AM, she finally stood up.
"Thanks for the notes," she said, stretching.
"Thanks for fixing my apparently criminal speaker setup."
"Someone had to." She paused at the door. "Same time tomorrow?"
I raised an eyebrow. "To argue about music?"
"To study."
"Sure." I gestured to the speakers. "Bring your opinions about proper audio equipment placement."
"Oh, I have opinions."
"I never would have guessed."
She flipped me off as she left, but she was grinning.
I fell back onto my bed, staring at the ceiling as 'New Person, Same Old Mistakes' played through my newly arranged speakers.
She was right. It did sound better.
Not that I'd ever tell her that.
The next days hero training loomed in my mind, but for now, I just listened to the music and wondered if Jiro had actually needed those notes at all.
Probably not.
But sometimes the excuse was more important than the reason.
==========
[NEXT TIME ON "MY HERO ACADEMIA: LIMITLESS"]
"Hey everyone, Yoichi here to tell you about our upcoming hero training-" My phone vibrated again. Declined. "As I was saying, tomorrow we'll be learning the basics of-" Another vibration. Declined. "Can someone please take this phone away from me?"
"You're the one who keeps declining your mother's calls," Todo said from behind the camera.
"Because I'm trying to record this preview segment-"
A voice boomed through the studio speakers. "Kyotoku and Mika Jiro. Parents of Kyoka Jiro. The girl who was in your room last night."
I froze. "Mom, it's not-"
"At one in the morning."
"We were studying-"
"With your door closed."
"The speakers were loud-"
"Oh, so the speakers were involved?"
Todo doubled over laughing behind the camera while I buried my face in my hands. "Can we please just finish the preview?"
"Of course, sweetie. Right after you explain why my son had a girl in his room at-"
"If you're enjoying this story of my slow death via maternal embarrassment," I cut in quickly, "please consider dropping a power stone and adding us to your library. Next time on My Hero Academia: Limitless - Basic Hero Training! Assuming I survive my mother's interrogation."
"Speaking of interrogations-" Mom started.
I yanked out my earpiece. "That's all folks! Todo, cut the feed!"
"But this is getting good-"
"Todo!"