A languid voice filled the auditorium.
For the past thirty minutes, the principal’s lecture had dragged on, and every student wore an expression of boredom as summer vacation loomed just around the corner.
Some were even dozing off.
While Kirishima leaned back with his arms crossed, barely registering the principal’s words, Ashido leaned in to whisper.
Kirishima, standing at nearly 190 centimeters even when seated, naturally towered over Ashido, though no one paid much mind.
"Hey, Eijiro. You’re really going?"
"Yeah. I am," he replied.
Time had flown. It had been ten years since that eventful summer trip when a five-year-old had met new people and discovered things he never imagined.
The incident in which a five-year-old nearly subdued a Villain had been big enough to shake the world, yet Kirishima and his family had chosen to keep it under wraps.
Kirishima believed that drawing too much attention before he was truly ready could invite trouble. His parents felt the same way.
Because of that, the public came to believe that Quickdraw had rounded up the vicious Villain instead.
In truth, the man had been identified as the culprit behind years of child disappearances on the mainland before fleeing to Hokkaido.
He had skyrocketed to fame, though he wasn’t too pleased at the thought of having a child steal his thunder.
Kirishima understood his feelings, so he apologized and asked for understanding—and the man accepted.
After that, Kirishima looked after Ashido while keeping in touch with Bakugo and Midoriya.
Now, as summer vacation approached, Kirishima was preparing for a journey across the country to visit various martial arts dojos he had discovered online or through phone calls.
"Hmph. I want to go too," Ashido complained.
"Since when do grown-ups travel alone with a guy? Think about your parents too," Kirishima chided.
"My parents said it’d be fine as long as I’m with you, Eijiro," she teased.
"Sigh," he muttered.
At Ashido’s relentless banter, Kirishima sighed. It was endearing that the once-cute kid had grown into a beautiful young woman, yet her habit of clinging stubbornly hadn’t changed at all.
"So I guess the back hill will be empty this year. You’ve been busy training with me every summer vacation."
"What are you talking about? Of course you should be the one taking advantage of it," she retorted.
"Huh? But it wouldn’t be the same without me?"
"Don’t be absurd. You have your entrance exams next year—there’s no way you’re going to slack off this summer."
"Waaah. Cut me some slack. Training with you is exhausting!"
"No way. I’m going to call you every day to check if you trained, and I’ll even ask your mom—don’t think of claiming you trained after a day of just fooling around."
"Agh, you’re too strict! It’s like having a tiger for an instructor!"
"I’d say I’m a pretty gentle coach," Kirishima quipped, shaking his head at Ashido’s dramatics as memories of past training sessions flooded back.
Since that perilous trip, Kirishima had grown increasingly aware of just how dangerous this world could be—a place where everyone was armed with their own unique Quirk. Although there weren’t as many people with lethal abilities as one might expect, it only meant that those who did wield them were more than enough to keep one on guard. And who knew how many harbored genuine malice?
Crime rates weren’t as high as feared, thanks largely to All Might, but there was never room for complacency. At some point, All Might’s active hours had noticeably shrunk. Though nothing had been officially announced, anyone who remembered the days when he saved sixty-two cities in one day could see the difference. Having read the original story, Kirishima wasn’t surprised by the reason behind it.
"Still, at least I won’t have to hit you this year," he joked.
"You haven’t done that since winter break two years ago," Ashido replied.
Determined not to push himself too hard from a young age, Kirishima had begun rigorous training in elementary school—a routine he maintained diligently. Battling Villains made him acutely aware of the need to refine his Quirk, and while asking his parents to let him hit himself felt unthinkable, he started by activating his Hardening and slamming his body against hard surfaces.
It wasn’t long before he hit a plateau. The breakthrough, as it turned out, came in the form of Ashido. He chuckled, remembering the first day he handed her a steel pipe and told her to hit him.
"Why are you laughing, Eijiro?" she demanded.
"I was just thinking about the first day I told you to hit me."
That day, Ashido had clutched the steel pipe with trembling hands and burst into tears. She had even asked if she was about to die—after all, she’d heard that doing something out of character could be fatal.
Flustered, Kirishima had spent nearly the entire training session convincing her otherwise. Even then, her punches were so feeble that he had to keep urging her for more force.
"That was too much, Eijiro! Who just tells someone to hit them out of the blue, and with full force?"
"Hmm... I guess I didn’t explain it well enough," he admitted.
"Not that you explained it poorly—it’s that you didn’t explain anything at all!" she retorted.
After numerous trials, their Quirk-strengthening training only ended when Ashido’s blows became so light they barely made a dent.
Later, they moved on to training with heavy objects like dropped boulders. Thanks to this regimen, Kirishima now believed he’d be able to withstand collapsing buildings or even explosions without getting hurt.
In addition to ramping up the intensity of his sessions, Kirishima focused on precision. He trained himself to maintain a constant, controlled state of Hardening—able to distribute its effect unevenly among his body parts as needed. Before long, he could activate Hardening without a second thought, and he had even solved the mobility issues that came from fully hardening his joints.
"But what’s the point of wandering from dojo to dojo?" someone mused. "If you just showed them that flashy whoosh move, everyone would be amazed."
"I’m confident in my punching—but I’ll admit there are technical gaps in my overall skill set," Kirishima responded. "There’s still a lot I don’t know outside of what I’m good at."
Despite his steady progress in strengthening his Quirk, by the age of twelve Kirishima began feeling that he had reached his growth limit—a phenomenon often called the perfection point, the ultimate boundary of human ability.
In his view, even without Quirks, the human perfection point in this world far surpassed that of his previous life—a fact his experiences had proven true. He considered himself fortunate; his body was a rare blessing, growing stronger with ease, hardly tiring, and boasting an almost absurd level of durability and recovery.
"Eijiro, you really are amazing," he murmured.
"It’s nothing special," he replied modestly. "When you’ve got something you want to do, you do it." Even so, Kirishima had encountered his own limits.
He wondered how he might shatter those boundaries. In reflecting on both his past and present lives, he ultimately concluded that gratitude was the key—the gratitude he felt for all those who had kept him from being swallowed by darkness: the gym owner, his parents, friends like Ashido, and even boxing.
With that gratitude in his heart, Kirishima began a grueling regimen of throwing one–two combinations ten thousand times a day—the very foundation of every punch he knew. Every repetition was performed with laser-like focus, ensuring not a single movement was out of sync from his toes to the crown of his head.
'Man, that was brutal...'
At first, finishing ten thousand one–two combinations took over eight hours. Although executing them while activating his Quirk served as additional training in control, it left little time to work on enhancing his Quirk’s raw power. Every day after school, he would immediately launch into his ten-thousand repetitions before collapsing into sleep. His parents worried, and he felt guilty, yet he never once stopped.
Then, about two years later, change finally came. He managed to finish his ten thousand combinations before the moon even rose. Kirishima had broken through his limits and flourished. The once grueling routine now took less than an hour, leaving him more time to concentrate on fine-tuning his Quirk.
By the time he wrapped up his training, his fists were moving faster than sound.
"Eijiro, so when are you planning to leave? Tomorrow?"
"Actually, I’m heading out today," he replied.
"Eh? That soon?"
"Yeah. I’m meeting a friend I made online this evening."
"What if they turn out to be a bad person?"
"Then I’ll just have to turn them into someone good."
The principal’s endless lecture finally came to an end.
As if on cue, Kirishima leapt to his feet, as though he had been waiting for precisely that moment.
After exchanging farewell cheers with the departing students, he set off for home.
Ashido trotted along right beside him.
"By the way, Eijiro, weren’t your parents worried when you said you were going traveling?"
"Of course they were. They were worried about a fifteen-year-old wandering around on his own—said I might get scammed. Haha. But they know what I’m capable of, so they gave me permission. Besides, public safety is pretty stable these days."
"I’m jealous. My parents still insist my curfew is nine o’clock unless I’m with you, Eijiro!"
"Isn’t nine o’clock a perfectly normal curfew for a fifteen-year-old girl?"
"Maybe so, but when I’m out having fun, it always feels like I’m being chased!"
"Hmm. I suppose that makes sense."
As they chatted casually, they soon reached the spot where they would part ways.
Kirishima patted Ashido’s head and said, "Alright, see you in about a month. I’ll be in touch—don’t worry."
"I’m not a little kid anymore! Stop patting my head!"
"You used to get sulky if I didn’t," he teased.
"I was feeling sentimental back then," she admitted.
"I see."
Although patting her head no longer came naturally as she matured, Ashido still clung to him and complained whenever he stopped—a typical mood swing of a teenager, which Kirishima simply let pass.
"Anyway, you have to call me every day! Promise!"
"What are you, my mom? Well, I’ll call every day—if only because of your training."
"Ugh, I hate training..."
"Hate it all you want, but you still have to do it. Alright, I’m really off now."
After soothing Ashido’s regrets about not seeing each other for a month, Kirishima headed home. With his long strides and quick pace, he arrived in no time.
Once inside, he announced his arrival in a loud, cheerful voice.
Ever since entering elementary school, he had wanted to call her "Mother," but seeing her disappointed expression, he stuck with “Mom.”
"I’m home!"
"You’re back? You’re a little late today."
"The principal talked forever. It’s the same every year."
"That’s true. Are you heading out right away?"
"I’m going to change first."
"Alright."
Kirishima went up to his room, changed clothes, and gathered the luggage he had packed the night before.
His first destination was Tokyo, just next door, so time wasn’t an issue—but it’s only polite to arrive early at the meeting place.
Half of it was an excuse; he was eager to learn new things.
Coming back down the stairs, he found his mom waiting for him.
"Take care, have a safe trip, and learn everything you can. And remember, when you’re out, be polite to the adults."
"When have I ever been rude? Don’t worry—I’ll do my best."
"You’ve always managed things well on your own. But please, don’t come back injured like last time. If you do, I might just collapse," she warned.
"That was a pretty special situation, though... Hmm. But if I become a Hero, isn’t getting hurt sometimes unavoidable?"
"That’s for later! You’re not a Hero yet. So you absolutely must not get hurt. If something dangerous comes up, don’t intervene—just stay away. Promise me that before you go."
"Okay, I promise. I’ll do what I can to stay safe."
"Not just try—promise me you’ll avoid danger altogether, or I won’t let you leave."
"Yes. If anything risky occurs, I’ll leave it to the Heroes and focus on staying safe."
"Good. Honestly, I’m still not sure if sending you off on your own is right, but you’ve been capable since you were little, so I trust you to come back safe. Don’t break your mom’s heart, alright?"
"Yes, ma’am! I promise I’ll come back without a single hair out of place!"
At his joking salute, his mom let out a resigned sigh. Despite her worries, the decision had been made, and all she could do was cheer him on.
"Here—take your dad’s card and some cash. In case you lose your card or wallet, keep a little extra cash in a separate bag."
"Yes, I will."
"That’s all I have to say. If I keep talking, I’ll only worry more, so I’ll send you off with a smile. Come back safely, alright?"
"Thank you for trusting me with something so serious. I’ll be careful and come back safe. It’s only a little over a month—please take care, Mom and Dad," he said.
After bidding farewell to his mother, Kirishima grabbed his luggage and stepped out the door.
The blazing summer sunlight greeted him, heralding the start of a fiery fifteen-year-old summer vacation.
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