The walk back to the company was quiet.
The sound of Sumire’s heels echoed through the still street.
She found herself thinking about Kirishima.
"Pure and intense. Heh."
The boy she had brought along with little expectation had far exceeded her hopes.
When she first offered him a chance, she hadn’t given it much thought—it was merely a test to see what kind of boy could subdue a Villain.
After all, the world teemed with Heroes wielding overwhelming power, yet what truly mattered was the character behind that power.
Something was amiss in this world. There were more Heroes than ever, but genuine heroes had become increasingly rare.
No matter how hard one searched, it was nearly impossible to find someone pure, strong, and truly suited to the essence of heroism. Instead, they were little more than clowns seduced by wealth and fleeting popularity.
"Having a family may be a minor drawback, but that's true for most of them. Maybe only All Might is the exception."
She hadn’t expected much from the boy who had helped subdue a Villain so effortlessly. Too many had disappointed her to allow even a spark of hope to survive—especially when he was someone she’d only met twice.
The company had advised her to meet him, but honestly, it had seemed like a waste of time. So she had brought him along without hesitation, leaving the choice of whether to continue the journey in his hands.
If Kirishima were to waver after taking Kota’s advice, that would be acceptable too; anyone who could crumble so easily was never meant to be a true Hero. It was far better to quit early than to halfheartedly take on a role one couldn’t live up to.
Yet Kirishima proved to be much sturdier and stronger than she had anticipated.
"Ah. This is exciting."
The mere thought of him quickened her heartbeat.
Heroes aren’t born—they’re made. This was a maxim Sumire believed without a shred of doubt.
In a modern world where almost everyone possessed a Quirk, wielding great power was not hard to come by. Some even manifested terrifying strength from infancy, surpassing ordinary Heroes.
But did mere strength make one a hero? If power alone were enough, Villains would be revered as heroes too.
While power was important, even more crucial was the person wielding it. It wasn’t enough to simply be powerful—a person had to be strong in character, and only by weathering life’s storms could one be forged into a true hero.
In that sense, Kirishima’s first test was a resounding success.
"Look forward to it, Kirishima. I’ll help you every step of the way so you can become a hero."
Of course, she still harbored her doubts. Kirishima had only taken his first tentative step, and there were countless obstacles ahead on his journey of growth.
But Sumire was more than willing to provide those very challenges—after all, everyone at the company was just an ordinary person yearning for true heroes.
A faint smile softened Sumire’s usually stern features. At last, a light had found her.
**
After getting off the train, Kirishima stretched.
During the journey, he had briefly wondered why Sumire had taken him to see Kota and uttered those puzzling words after only two encounters, but he hadn’t reached any concrete conclusion. He couldn’t fathom why someone so sensible would act so unconventionally—he assumed she had her reasons.
Kirishima didn’t consider himself foolish, yet he never thought himself exceptionally clever either. Earning grades high enough to apply to U.A., where only the top 0.18 percent succeeded, had been part of a process he’d already undergone in his previous life.
There was no need to dwell on mysteries that defied explanation; after all, they weren’t likely to lose contact, and he could always ask her another day.
Meanwhile, curious eyes turned in his direction. With his imposing stature by Japanese standards—tall, muscular, yet sporting a youthful face—Kirishima usually caught attention. But today, it seemed he was drawing even more onlookers.
"Wait a minute—could this be because of that article? No, that’s absurd. It’s probably just a few online write-ups. There’s no way everyone would recognize me. I don’t have some celebrity syndrome or anything."
His past had taught him that being the center of attention was rarely a blessing. Of course, as he worked toward becoming a Hero, public scrutiny would eventually be inevitable—but for now, he preferred to remain under the radar. Fame never seemed particularly appealing; while it might bring extra money, Kirishima had always believed that having just enough to live on was enough, and he had no desire to chase wealth.
"Hmm. I arrived a bit early. I wonder when those two will show up."
Ignoring the stares, Kirishima left the station and made his way confidently toward the meeting spot—a modest café near the station.
Thanks to his close bond with the Bakugo and Midoriya families—formed after an eventful summer trip—Kirishima had visited Mustafu several times before. Each visit had led him to the same café where he often met the kids.
He pushed open the small door and stepped inside to find the place relatively empty, a likely result of the weekday afternoon lull. Even among the few patrons, Midoriya’s distinctive green hair and Bakugo’s unruly, explosive style immediately caught the eye.
"Oh? I arrived thirty minutes early, yet you’re already here?"
"Kirishima! Long time no see! It’s been two years since we last met in person. How have you been?"
"So you made it, tall guy. And why drag Deku along, anyway?"
Midoriya greeted him warmly, while Bakugo grumbled in his customary fashion.
"Should I have met you both separately? We’re here only for a short while—might as well catch up all at once."
"It’s summer break—we’ve got plenty of time. What’s wrong with meeting one-on-one?"
"Yeah, but time is precious."
The boy who had first met him at age five—who’d once crushed his pride—never ceased challenging Kirishima whenever they crossed paths. Of course, Kirishima had never lost to Bakugo.
Bakugo’s fighting instincts had honed with each encounter, yet Kirishima never stood still. Even after a string of defeats, Bakugo’s stubborn declaration that he’d win next time charmed Kirishima.
"Come on, Kacchan, we’ve been friends since we were little, haven’t we?"
"Gah! Who’s your friend? Don’t spout that mushy crap, Deku!"
Midoriya, now more composed than before, addressed Bakugo in a conciliatory tone.
In some small way, both had been trampled by Kirishima so often that a sense of camaraderie had formed—they no longer appeared intimidated by Bakugo’s bluster. Although his tone remained rough, it was a far cry from the feral outbursts of their early encounters. Once like a wild cat ready to scratch, Bakugo now simply hissed, his fur metaphorically bristling.
"You two have great chemistry. You’ve known each other forever—even if I can’t quite match that."
"You too? If you’re just going to spout nonsense, I’m out."
"Haha. I really don’t mind it at all."
Midoriya’s warm smile deepened the moment Bakugo looked as if he were about to storm off, only to be quickly calmed by his friend.
Kirishima couldn’t help but laugh at how their dynamic had evolved—teasing Bakugo, witnessing his occasional bursts of anger, and seeing Midoriya subtly take his side. It was a familiar scene, one that brought him quiet satisfaction.
"Alright, let’s get to the point. You’ve been training as I directed, right?"
"Uh, well, Kirishima…" Midoriya began hesitantly.
Once, he had called him Eijiro until Ashido chided him, and ever since, he had reluctantly used Kirishima’s name—but now he faltered.
Bakugo, clearly exasperated by the hesitation, jumped in, "This guy hasn’t been training much lately. Maybe he has, but not the way you told him to, tall guy. I heard he’s been hitting the beach instead."
"I—I’ll explain, Kacchan. It’s just that I’ve been meeting with a master lately," Kirishima managed.
"Oh? And he isn’t some scam artist, is he?"
"Absolutely not! He’s definitely no scammer."
"Well then, if you’ve really met a master, learning from him is what counts."
Now that I think about it, it must have been around the time he met All Might.
Midoriya’s eyes shone with genuine admiration as he absorbed Kirishima’s words. From childhood on, he’d always respected Kirishima’s relentless approach to training.
Ever since that unforgettable first encounter at age five, Kirishima had meticulously overseen Bakugo and Midoriya’s training—calling every day, or at least visiting in person once a month—and if either of them even hinted at giving up, he’d warn them that they might as well quit their dream of becoming heroes. Back then, he truly seemed like a force of nature.
Their parents had been delighted, thinking that Midoriya had made a friend and was having fun. But deep down, Kirishima had no desire to return to those simpler days.
So when Kirishima mentioned his new master, it struck a chord with Midoriya—even though the truth was, Kirishima already knew exactly who his master was.
But wasn’t All Might notoriously bad at teaching?
"So, what kind of training are you doing now? Since I’ll be staying with you for a couple of days, mind if I meet your master as well?"
"Huh? Well, we’re cleaning up trash on the beach right now... I’ll check if it’s alright for you to come see him," Midoriya replied.
"Hmm. All right."
"Wait. Are you staying at Deku’s place?"
"Yeah. Remember last time I crashed at your place? Your folks are nice and your house is comfy, but this time I’m planning to swing by this guy’s place too. I already mentioned I’d be in Mustafu for at least two days, so you should have guessed I wasn’t bunking at your place."
"Tch. My mom was all excited when she heard you were coming. Honestly, it’s more peaceful without you around!"
"What kind of remark is that? Don’t talk about your mom like that, you little brat."
Kirishima smacked Bakugo lightly on the head. Though he didn’t use much force, the impact still stung, prompting Bakugo to clutch his head and shout, "What do you care if I call her that?!"
"I care because I’m your friend—and because it’s my duty to remind you. Besides, you’re smart enough not to earn extra points by being unnecessarily rude."
"Geh!"
Bakugo tried to fume, but could only manage a low growl. Ever since they were five, he had inexplicably shown a softer side when it came to Kirishima—perhaps because Kirishima was almost always right, or simply because he was stronger. After all, Bakugo was the type who respected strength, no matter where it came from.
"If Midoriya isn’t showing up for training, that must mean you’re doing pretty well, right? We’ll check on that later."
"I’m on top of it! And this time, I’m winning!"
"No, we’re not fighting this time."
"What? What do you mean? Tall guy, are you trying to score a win and then run away?"
"What are you talking about? You should be graduating from mindless brawling by now. I’m so much stronger that a bare-knuckle fight with you wouldn’t even be worth it. Besides, sparring with our Quirks is tricky—I'm fine with casual training, but yours could use a bit more flair."
"Tch. Fair enough."
Bakugo ground his teeth before conceding with a shrug. Watching that relentless, competitive glint in his eyes, Kirishima couldn’t help but grin.
"So, this time I’m just going to check your physical condition. Besides that, I’ll be meeting your parents. There’s no time to waste—I’ve got so much to learn on this trip."
"You? Still got things to learn?"
Bakugo replied with a deflated look. Ever since their first meeting at five, this determined guy had never slowed his pace. Although Bakugo was no longer the helpless kid trembling before a Villain, Kirishima was always several steps ahead—and perhaps that was exactly why Bakugo considered him a friend.
"Alright then, shall we head out? I should at least say hello to Midoriya’s mom while I’m here."
"Yeah. Mom will be delighted."
"Then why didn’t we leave earlier?"
"I’m scheduled to visit your parents tomorrow as well, so stop griping. When a beauty greets them, it’s endearing—but when some squinty-eyed guy does it, it comes off creepy."
"When have I ever complained?"
"You’ve been griping non-stop, Kacchan..."
More than his impressive physique, which was obvious even through his clothes, it was the playful way Midoriya teased Bakugo that made Kirishima smile at how much they had all grown.
Back in their youth, tussling with Bakugo and exchanging a few witty remarks had been the perfect way to bond—and ever since, Kirishima had kept a close eye on them.
The three of them left the café together and headed toward Midoriya’s house. Since Bakugo’s place was in the same neighborhood, they were headed in the same direction.
"Hmm. You all came to my place two summers ago, and I visited your house the year before that—so it’s been three years since I last saw your parents. How are they doing?"
"They’re fine. Mom’s in good health—and ever since she met you when we were kids, she always says I seemed brighter. She even keeps asking if you’ll visit again. Haha. She’s a bit quirky, isn’t she?"
"That’s not her being quirky—it just means you’re not exactly reliable, is it?"
"Huh? Is that what it means?"
"Look at me. Even if I travel alone around Japan, my parents let me do it without fuss. You’re only kids—it’s natural to be a bit unreliable. After all, this is only your first life."
"First life? What do you mean—are you on your second life or something?"
Bakugo clicked his tongue at Kirishima’s bizarre remark. Though Kirishima usually spoke sense, every now and then he would spout something offbeat—enough to make Bakugo wonder if he really was living a second life.
"No comment on that. Bakugo, how are your parents?"
Kirishima had long since stopped worrying about how he spoke around these two. They weren’t naive enough to truly believe he was on a second life, and even if they did, he trusted they wouldn’t use it against him.
"My old man is as stubborn as ever, and my mom? She clings to me every day like I’m a stray."
"That’s because you’ve got a rotten attitude."
"What did you say, punk?"
"Be nicer to your parents, you rude little brat. You’ll regret it when they’re gone."
"Shut up. I can handle it myself."
"Honestly. Fine, do what you want. Considering how your parents put up with your temper, they’re saints. You really should be grateful to them. Tch. Anyway, sounds like they’re doing well."
"Yeah. Kacchan’s parents are truly something else."
"What do you mean by that, you little brat?"
The three continued walking toward the house, bickering all the way. Kirishima teased Bakugo, Bakugo fumed, and Midoriya quietly sided with Kirishima—a familiar scene that, despite its rough exterior, held a comfortable warmth.
The August sun blazed down on the three friends. Their figures moved together through the scorching air, a scene that felt both warmly familiar and reassuring.
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