Asami waited until Yoichi had gone to bed before making the call. Her fingers hovered over the contact name for a moment - "Uncle Kuro (DO NOT ANSWER IF DRUNK)."
The phone rang three times before a gruff voice answered. "Do you know what time it is?"
"It's 9 PM, Uncle. Are you already in bed like the old man you are?"
"Respect your elders, brat." But there was warmth in his tone. "What's wrong? You never call unless something's wrong."
"Can't I just want to talk to my favorite uncle?"
"I'm your only uncle, and no. You're plotting something. I can hear it in your voice."
Asami smiled, settling into her favorite chair. "Did you see the news today? The sludge villain incident?"
"Ah." A pause, followed by the sound of sake being poured. "So that's what this is about. Yeah, I saw it. Looks like that little brat of yours finally grew a pair."
"He's not a brat."
"He's your son. By definition, he's a brat." Ice clinked against glass. "Good work though. Clean barrier control, decent spatial awareness. Still sloppy with his footwork."
"You were watching that closely?"
"Professional habit." Another pause. "What do you want, Asami?"
She traced the rim of her teacup. "Train him."
"No."
"Uncle-"
"I said no." His voice hardened. "I'm retired."
"You trained me."
"That was different. You were-" He stopped abruptly.
"I was what?"
"Doesn't matter. I'm done teaching."
Asami set her cup down. "It's been seven years, Uncle. You can't keep punishing yourself for-"
"Don't." The word came out like a thunderclap. "Just don't."
Silence stretched between them.
"He's different," Asami said finally. "You saw how he moved. How he acted. Like..."
"Like Shinji?" Kuro's laugh was bitter. "That's not the selling point you think it is, kid."
"Like you," she corrected. "Before everything happened. When you still believed in heroes."
"Low blow."
"But accurate." She leaned forward. "One week."
"What?"
"Give him one week. If you don't see what I see, I'll never ask again."
The line went quiet except for the sound of sake being poured.
"You really think he's got it?" Kuro asked finally. "The real thing?"
"I think he'll be the greatest hero of our time." Asami smiled. "But you won't know unless you try."
Another long pause. Ice shifting in glass.
"One day," he growled. "And when he fails-"
"When he succeeds," she interrupted, "you'll owe me a bottle of that sake you're drinking."
"Still a brat yourself." But she could hear him smiling. "Fine. One day. Tomorrow."
"Tomorrow? But he's grounded and has scho-"
"Oh? Changed your mind already?"
Asami sighed. "No. Tomorrow is fine. What time?"
"4 AM. Mountain trail behind the old dojo."
"That's... excessive."
"You wanted me to train him." The smile in his voice turned predatory. "This is me training him."
"Try not to break him completely."
"No promises." He paused. "Hey, Asami?"
"Mm?"
"That thing you said, about believing in heroes..."
"Yes?"
"Maybe you're right. Maybe it's time." The line went dead.
Asami stared at her phone for a long moment before pulling up her messages.
To: Yoichi
"4 AM tomorrow. Mountain trail behind the old Arashi dojo. Don't be late."
From: Yoichi
"What? Why? I'm grounded remember?"
To: Yoichi
"Your training starts tomorrow. Sleep well. You'll need it."
From: Yoichi
"Wait what training? Mom? MOM?"
Asami smiled and turned off her phone. She picked up her teacup, now cold, and walked to the window. The city lights sparkled below, but her eyes were drawn to the dark mountain silhouette looming behind them.
"Don't prove me wrong," she whispered. But she wasn't sure if she was talking to Yoichi or Kuro.
In a small apartment across town, Kuro Arashi poured another cup of sake and looked at an old photo on his wall. Two figures in training gi, one tall and proud, the other young and fierce. Both smiling. Both believing in heroes.
The photo had a crack running through it, splitting the younger figure in half.
Kuro drained his cup and turned away. One day to prove Asami right or wrong. One day to see if this kid really had what it took.
One day to face old ghosts.
He grabbed his phone and sent a single message:
To: Asami
"If he's late, deal's off."
The response came immediately:
From: Asami
"He won't be."
Kuro smiled despite himself. Some things never changed.
The mountain waited, patient and indifferent to the drama about to unfold on its slopes. Tomorrow would come soon enough.
Three people lay awake that night, each lost in their own thoughts. A mother who believed in second chances. A teacher who'd lost faith. And a boy who had no idea what he was getting into.
The city slept on, unaware that tomorrow marked the beginning of something new. Something that would change everything.
Or nothing at all.
It all depended on what happened tomorrow.
[With Yoichi]
I stumbled out of the taxi at 3:18 AM, yawning so hard my jaw cracked. The driver gave me a look that screamed "your funeral, kid" before peeling away into the darkness.
The mountain loomed ahead like a wall of black, no streetlights or paved roads in sight. Just dirt, trees, and what looked like the start of a hiking trail marked by a weathered wooden sign. The kanji was so faded I had to squint to make it out: "Arashi Dojo - 2km."
My stomach chose that moment to remind me I'd skipped dinner. "What I wouldn't give for an Italian beef right now," I muttered, adjusting my gym bag. "Or literally any food."
The path ahead disappeared into darkness. No signs of civilization except the distant city lights behind me. Who even built a dojo up here? And why was Mom so insistent I train with some old geezer I'd never met?
I checked my phone: 3:26 AM. The screen's glow felt offensive in all this darkness.
Last Message from Mom: "Don't be late. And Yoichi? Try not to die."
"Super reassuring, thanks Mom." I pocketed the phone and started walking. The gravel crunched under my feet, echoing in the pre-dawn silence.
Twenty minutes in, I realized three things:
This path was way steeper than it looked
I was out of shape for someone with a supposedly powerful quirk
I had no idea what I was doing here
A branch snapped somewhere in the darkness. I definitely didn't jump. And that totally wasn't a yelp. Just... clearing my throat. Manly-like.
"Scared already, brat?"
I spun around. Nothing but shadows and trees.
"Up here."
I looked up. A figure sat perched on a branch about twenty feet overhead, sake bottle in hand. As I watched, he took a long drink.
"Are... are you drunk?"
"Probably." The figure dropped from the branch, landing without a sound. He was tall, built like a mountain himself, with wild grey hair and a beard that looked like it had never met a comb. "You're late."
I checked my phone again. "It's 3:53. The message said 4 AM."
"If you're not thirty minutes early, you're late." He took another swig. "First lesson."
"Are you seriously drinking at this hour? And who are you anyway?"
He grinned, and somehow that was worse than his scowl. "Kuro Arashi. Your mom didn't tell you?"
"Tell me what?"
"That I'm going to make your life absolute hell." He tossed the sake bottle aside. It should have shattered, but instead landed softly in a pile of leaves. "Second lesson: always expect the unexpected."
"That's... pretty cliche for a lesson."
His grin widened. "Third lesson."
I barely had time to process his words before his fist filled my vision. Pure instinct kicked in - the familiar hum of my barrier springing to life. His knuckles connected with the invisible wall, and for a split second, I saw surprise flash across his weathered face.
"Got you," I smirked. Then he vanished.
My eyes spun faster, lotus petals blurring as they tracked - there. Behind me.
Too late.
The kick connected with my side. The sound hit me first - like a windshield shattering. Then the pain. My barrier, my perfect, unbreakable barrier... broke.
I hit the ground hard enough to knock the air from my lungs. Gravel bit into my palms as I pushed myself up, mind reeling. The barrier had always been absolute. Always.
"You look confused," Kuro said, standing over me. "Let me guess - first time someone's broken through?"
I spat dirt. "How?"
"Wrong question." He crouched down, bringing his face level with mine. This close, I could smell the sake on his breath. "You should be asking 'why didn't I see it coming?'"
"I did see it coming. My eyes-"
"Your eyes." He tapped his temple. "They're not just for show, kid. But you're using them wrong. All that power, and you're barely scratching the surface."
I stood up, wincing. My side throbbed where he'd connected. "The barrier activates automatically. It's never failed before."
"Automatic doesn't mean perfect." He straightened up, rolling his shoulders. "Your barrier's got rules. Laws. Like everything else in this world. You just never met anyone who could exploit them."
"Until now?"
His grin returned. "Until now. Again?"
I shifted into a defensive stance. "You didn't answer my question. Was it speed or strength that broke through?"
"Figure it out." He vanished again.
This time I was ready. My eyes spun faster, tracking his movement as he appeared to my left. I pivoted, barrier already forming-
His fist stopped an inch from my face. "Better. But still wrong."
"I blocked it."
"Did you?" He pulled back. "Or did I let you think you blocked it?"
"Stop with the cryptic master routine. If you're going to teach me, teach me."
"Ah, there it is." He laughed. "That famous Nakamura patience. Your mother was the same way. Always wanting answers handed to her."
"Did you hand them to her?"
"Nope." He popped the 'p' sound. "And she hated me for it. Right up until she figured it out herself."
"Figured what out?"
Instead of answering, he attacked again. This time I saw every movement - the way his weight shifted, the angle of his strike, the exact trajectory. My barrier formed perfectly.
His fist passed through like it wasn't there.
Pain exploded in my jaw. I staggered back, tasting blood.
"Think, boy." Kuro's voice had lost its playful edge. "What's different about these attacks? What changed?"
I wiped blood from my lip, mind racing. The first hit - blocked. The kick - broke through. This last one - passed through entirely. Same person, same quirk, different results.
"You're doing something," I said slowly. "Changing something about each strike."
"Close." He raised his fists. "Let's see if you can figure it out before you pass out."
"Before I what?"
His only response was another attack. And another. And another.
The sun wasn't even up yet, and already I was learning the hardest lesson of my life: sometimes the worst teachers are the best ones.
Even if they're drunk at four in the morning.
==========
[Next time on "My Hero Academia: Limitless"]
"Heeeey!" Kuro waved at the camera, cheeks flushed red. "Next time, watch this old man teach this punk what real fighting looks like!"
I pressed an ice pack to my swollen jaw. "You're drunk."
"And still kicking your ass!" He threw an arm around my shoulders, nearly knocking me over. "You should've seen me in my prime! I once fought thirty villains while hanging upside down from Tokyo Tower!"
"That's physically impossible."
"Bah! Nothing's impossible with the right attitude and enough sake!" He squinted at the camera. "Wait, are we recording? When did we start recording?"
"Three minutes ago."
"Perfect! Don't miss next time: 'The Old Man and the Infinite Ass-Kicking!' Where I teach this smartass how to actually use that fancy quirk of his!"
I ducked under his arm. "You mean where you keep hitting me until I figure out whatever cryptic lesson you're trying to teach?"
"Exactly!" His grin turned predatory. "Speaking of which, break's over."
"What break? You haven't stopped—"
His fist connected with my stomach. I doubled over, wheezing.
"See you next time, viewers!" He beamed at the camera while I struggled to breathe. "Remember kids, the best lessons are learned through pain!"
"That's... terrible... advice..."
"What was that? You want another round? Well, if you insist!"
"No, wait—"