Kuro watched from the dojo steps as Yoichi planted another post, sweat dripping onto the freshly turned earth. The boy's form had started sloppy, but after the twentieth hole, his movements had found their rhythm. Not perfect, but getting there.
Just like another student, years ago.
"Deeper," Kuro called out. "You want these posts to last."
Yoichi didn't look up. "They'd last fine if you weren't planning to break them."
"Smart kid." Kuro took a sip from his water bottle, wishing it was sake. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the training ground, painting everything in shades of gold and memory.
====
"You're doing it wrong," Kuro had told a younger Shinji, watching him struggle with similar posts. "Let the earth guide you."
"Earth doesn't talk, Sensei." But Shinji's next strike landed true, the post sliding perfectly into place.
"No?" Kuro had grinned. "Listen harder."
Shinji had paused then, head tilted. "I hear... your sake bottle getting empty."
"Brat."
But he'd seen it then - that spark, that perfect blend of talent and determination that came along once in a generation. The way Shinji moved like he was born to fight, born to learn, born to-
===
"Oi, old man." Yoichi's voice snapped him back. "Done with the posts."
Kuro blinked. The training ground had transformed. Twenty posts stood in precise formation, each one perfectly spaced and angled.
"You measured these?" Kuro asked, walking the perimeter.
"Didn't need to." Yoichi stretched, joints popping. "Just felt right."
Just felt right. The same words Shinji had used, all those years ago.
"Something wrong?" Yoichi asked.
"No." Kuro ran a hand along the nearest post. "Just remembering another student who did this."
"Mom?"
"Different one." Kuro turned away. "Get cleaned up. We're done for today."
"That's it?" Yoichi sounded suspicious. "No extra torture?"
"You want more?"
"Hell no." Yoichi grabbed his bag. "See you tomorrow, old man."
Kuro waited until the boy disappeared down the mountain path before sitting heavily on the steps. The setting sun painted the posts in long shadows, like bars across the ground.
===
"Why do we train, Sensei?" Young Shinji had asked once, covered in dirt from a similar day's work.
"To get stronger."
"No." Shinji's eyes had held that intensity, that burning focus that set him apart. "Why do we really train?"
Kuro had considered his answer carefully. "To understand ourselves."
"And once we do?"
"Then we help others understand themselves."
Shinji had nodded, satisfied. "That's why you'll make me your successor someday."
"Pretty confident for a brat who can't even plant posts straight."
But they'd both known he was right. Until-
===
A phone buzzed. Kuro pulled it out, seeing Asami's name on the screen.
"He's got it," Kuro said without preamble.
"The X-factor?"
"Same as Shinji. Maybe more."
Silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken concerns.
"Keep him safe, Kuro." It wasn't a request.
"From what?"
"From ending up like Shinji."
Kuro watched the last light fade from the training ground. "No chance of that. Kid's got something Shinji never had."
"What's that?"
"A mother who'd tear the world apart to protect him." Kuro stood, joints creaking. "And an old drunk who won't make the same mistakes twice."
He hung up before Asami could respond. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new lessons. But for now, he had sake to drink and memories to bury.
The posts stood silent in the gathering dark, waiting for whatever tomorrow would bring. Just like they had years ago, when another prodigy had stood in this same spot, dreaming different dreams.
Some dreams ended in darkness. Others...
Well, that was tomorrow's problem. Tonight was for sake and silence, and remembering when teaching had been simpler.
Before talented students went astray.
Before mothers made impossible requests.
Before posts became more than just wood in the ground.
Kuro pulled out his sake bottle and settled in for a long night of not-thinking. Tomorrow would come soon enough.
And with it, another chance to get it right this time.
===
[With Yoichi]
I dragged myself up the mountain path, muscles still sore from yesterday's post-planting marathon. The morning sun hadn't even cleared the trees yet, but I knew Kuro-sensei would already be there, probably nursing both a hangover and that damn sake bottle.
Sure enough, I found him sitting cross-legged on the dojo steps, eyes closed.
"You're late," he said without opening them.
"Sun's not even up."
"Sun doesn't decide when training starts." He cracked one eye open. "I do."
I dropped my bag. "So what's today? More posts?"
"Nah." He stood up, joints popping loud enough to echo. "Today we start the real work. Strip."
"Excuse me?"
"Not like that, kid. Down to your undershirt. Can't learn Arashi-ryu in a hoodie."
I peeled off my outer layers while he wandered over to the posts we'd planted yesterday. The morning air bit at my skin.
"First lesson," he said, "is Mountain Root. Most important technique you'll ever learn."
"Sounds boring."
"Oh, it is." He grinned. "Stand here."
I moved where he pointed, between four of the posts.
"Now, feet shoulder-width apart. Bend your knees slightly. Good. This is Iron Horse Stance."
"This is just standing."
"Shut up and hold it."
"For how long?"
"Until I say stop."
I held the stance. One minute passed. Then five. My thighs started burning around minute ten.
"This is stupid," I said through gritted teeth.
"Is it?" Kuro walked around me, adjusting my posture with sharp jabs. "Tell me what you feel."
"My legs wanting to die."
"Deeper than that."
I focused past the burning. Past the shaking in my muscles. There was something else - a weird sense of... connection? Like my feet were sinking into the earth.
"I feel..."
"Yeah?"
"Like I'm being punked by an old man."
He smacked the back of my head. "Smart ass. Hold it another ten minutes."
By minute twenty, I couldn't feel my legs. But that other sensation had grown stronger - like roots spreading from my feet into the ground.
"Now," Kuro said, "try to move me."
"What?"
He stepped in front of me, arms loose at his sides. "Push me over."
I straightened up and shoved his chest. He didn't budge. I tried again, harder. Nothing.
"My turn," he said.
He flicked my forehead with one finger. I flew backward like I'd been hit by a truck, landing hard on my ass.
"What the hell?"
"That," he said, "is Mountain Root. The foundation of Arashi-ryu. Get up, we're doing it again."
"I thought Arashi-ryu was about storms and lightning and cool stuff."
"You want to throw lightning around without a proper foundation?" He helped me up. "That's how you end up breaking yourself. Now, stance."
We spent the next three hours on that damn stance. By the end, I could stay rooted well enough that his forehead flicks only pushed me back a few feet instead of launching me across the yard.
"Not bad," he said finally. "Take five."
I collapsed onto the steps, chugging water. "So when do we get to the actual fighting?"
"When you can hold that stance for two hours without shaking."
"Two hours? That's insane."
"Shinji did it in three days."
The name hung in the air like smoke. I'd heard him mention it yesterday too.
"Who's Shinji?"
Kuro took a long pull from his sake bottle. "Former student."
"Better than mom?"
"Different. Your mother was technical. Precise. Shinji was..." He stared at the posts. "Natural. Like you."
"What happened to him?"
"Made some bad choices." Kuro's voice went flat. "Break's over. Back to stance."
I stood, legs protesting. "You know, normal teachers use actual words to explain things."
"Normal teachers don't have to worry about their students accidentally destroying mountains." He poked my shoulder, adjusting my posture. "Besides, your body needs to learn before your brain. Words just get in the way."
"That makes no sense."
"Neither does your posture. Lower."
We worked until noon, by which point I couldn't feel anything below my waist. Kuro finally called it when I face-planted trying to hold the stance.
"Same time tomorrow," he said as I gathered my things.
"Joy."
I trudged down the mountain, legs wobbling. Mom was waiting at the bottom, leaning against her car.
"How was it?" she asked.
"Ask my legs when they start speaking to me again." I collapsed into the passenger seat. "Did you have to do all this too?"
"The stance training? Of course." She started the car. "Though I heard you're progressing faster than I did."
"Really?"
"Mm. Kuro called. Said you might be ready for Thunder Palm training by next week."
"What's Thunder Palm?"
She smiled. "You'll see."
"Why does everyone keep saying that?"
"Because watching you figure it out is half the fun." She reached over and ruffled my hair. "Want to stop for ramen?"
"God yes."
As we drove, I caught her glancing at me.
"What?"
"Nothing." She turned back to the road. "Just... be careful with what Kuro teaches you, okay?"
"It's just martial arts, mom."
"No," she said quietly. "It's never just martial arts."
I wanted to ask what she meant, but my legs chose that moment to start cramping, and the rest of the ride was mostly me trying not to scream.
I dragged myself up the mountain before sunrise, my legs still screaming from yesterday. The posts cast long shadows in the dim light, like accusing fingers pointing at my poor life choices.
Kuro sat in his usual spot, sake bottle already half empty.
"You're early," he said.
"Couldn't sleep. Legs hurt too much."
He grunted, taking another sip. "Good. Pain means growth."
"Pain means pain, old man."
"Ready to quit?"
I dropped my bag and stripped down to my undershirt. The morning air bit at my skin, but I stepped between the posts anyway. "Let's get this over with."
"Confident today." Kuro stood up, bones cracking. "Show me the stance."
I settled into position, feeling yesterday's muscle memory kick in. The burning started immediately, but underneath it was that weird sensation of connection to the ground.
"Better," Kuro said, circling me. "Now hold it for two hours."
"That's it? No sage advice? No cryptic wisdom?"
"Nope." He sat back down on the steps. "Just you and the ground."
The first thirty minutes were hell. My thighs shook, sweat dripped into my eyes, and every fiber of my being screamed to move. But underneath all that, something clicked.
I felt it in my core first - a familiar ripple of power. My Limitless quirk responded to my focus, the twelve-petaled lotus in my eyes spinning lazily.
"Interesting," Kuro muttered.
The infinite space between me and the ground shifted, not quite solid, not quite void. I could feel every grain of dirt, every root, every minute vibration through that endless distance.
"You're cheating," Kuro called out.
"Am I?" I didn't break stance. "You never said I couldn't use my quirk."
"Hmph. Shinji said the same thing."
"Did he use his quirk too?"
Kuro took another drink. "Took him three days to figure it out."
I grinned through the pain. "Guess I'm better."
"Cocky brat." But I heard the approval in his voice. "One hour down. Keep it up."
The second hour was different. With my quirk active, I could maintain the stance easier, but the mental strain built up fast. Controlling infinite space wasn't exactly lightweight work.
"Focus slipping," Kuro said.
"I got it."
"Do you?"
He flicked my forehead. The impact rippled through infinite space, trying to knock me back. I gritted my teeth and held, redirecting the force down through those endless layers between me and solid ground.
My feet didn't move an inch.
"Not bad." Kuro scratched his beard. "But-"
He struck again, faster this time. Three rapid flicks, each one carrying enough force to shatter concrete. I caught the first two, but the third slipped through my defenses and sent me stumbling.
"Damn it!"
"Reset," Kuro said. "Twenty minutes left."
I got back into position, adjusting my quirk's output. The lotus in my eyes spun faster, responding to my irritation.
"You know," I said through clenched teeth, "some actual instruction would be nice."
"Would it?" Kuro sat back down. "Tell me what you learned just now."
"That you're a sadistic old man?"
"Besides that."
I thought about it, feeling the infinite space pulse with each heartbeat. "The stance... it's not just about being unmovable. It's about... flow?"
"Go on."
"When I tried to just tank those hits, I failed. But when I redirected them..." I focused on the sensation. "It's like the force has to go somewhere."
"Now you're getting it." Kuro stood up. "Ready?"
"For what?"
His finger jabbed toward my forehead again, but this time I was ready. I let the impact flow through infinite space, guiding it down, around, and...
Back up.
Kuro's eyes widened as his own force reflected back at him. He skidded back several feet, catching himself on one of the posts.
"Ha!" I pumped my fist. "How's that for-"
Pain exploded through my skull as another flick caught me completely off guard. I landed flat on my back, staring at the morning sky.
"Rule one," Kuro said, standing over me. "Never celebrate early."
"Noted." I sat up, rubbing my head. "How long was that?"
He checked his watch. "Two hours and three minutes."
"Seriously?"
"Yep." He offered me a hand up. "Congratulations. You beat Shinji's record."
"So now we move on to the cool stuff?"
"Now," he said, "we do it again. Without the quirk."
I groaned and got back into position. The sun had fully risen, promising another long day of pain and cryptic lessons.
But as I settled into the stance, I felt something different. That connection to the ground remained even without my quirk active, like my body had learned something my power only helped reveal.
"Hey, old man?"
"Mm?"
"What happened after Shinji mastered this?"
Kuro was quiet for a long moment. "He got stronger. Much stronger." He took another drink. "Strong enough to make mistakes that changed everything."
"What kind of mistakes?"
"The kind you're not going to make." He adjusted my posture with a sharp jab. "Now focus. The ground's trying to tell you something."
"The ground's telling me I'm an idiot for letting you train me."
"That too." He grinned. "But listen harder."
I closed my eyes and sank deeper into the stance. The burning in my legs faded to background noise as I focused on that connection. Without my quirk's infinite space to play with, it felt more... real somehow.
More human.
"I think..." I started.
"Yeah?"
"I think the ground's telling me you need to lay off the sake."
The water bottle that bounced off my head was totally worth it.
==========
[Next time on "My Hero Academia: Limitless"]
"For the last time, Yoichi, you can't just sleep through the training montage!" Kuro-sensei's voice boomed through the studio.
I cracked one eye open from where I'd sprawled across the floor. "But sensei, it's a montage. Isn't that the whole point? Time skip through the boring parts?"
"Get up, you lazy—" Kuro grabbed my collar and hauled me to my feet. "This is exactly why we need to show the viewers what real training looks like!"
"Real training involves a lot of napping." I dusted off my pants. "And eating. Don't forget the eating."
"You..." Kuro's eye twitched. "Ten months! We have ten months to get you ready, and you want to spend it sleeping?"
"Well, when you put it that way..." I tapped my chin. "Yeah, pretty much."
"Readers!" Kuro turned to address the camera directly, completely ignoring my attempts to sneak back to my nap spot. "Don't let this fool discourage you! Drop those power stones and comments below if you want to see what real training looks like! This kid needs all the motivation he can get!"
"Hey, I resent that—"
"Until next time on 'My Hero Academia: Limitless'!"