The first night of the eventful trip had passed, and morning broke.
As usual, Kirishima woke early and quietly slipped out the door.
Unlike the smoggy city, the fresh, crisp air greeted him warmly.
After a brief warm-up, he began shadowboxing.
Since he was on vacation, he had no desire to push himself too hard; still, a bit of exercise made the day feel invigorating.
"Hey."
Bakugo, who had somehow wandered from the lodge and was quietly watching Kirishima, called out.
"Hup! What?"
Without pausing his rhythm, Kirishima replied.
He’d known all along that the stubborn little kid was keeping an eye on him.
Kirishima wasn’t bothered by the observation—it wasn’t interference, merely a spectator’s attention as he continued his routine.
After dodging an imaginary punch with a fluid weave and chaining a left body shot into a sharp uppercut, he heard Bakugo’s low, steady voice.
"If I learn that too, will I get stronger?"
"Hmm?"
Halting his movement, Kirishima turned to face Bakugo.
The kid’s pride was almost as big as his determination—he wanted to learn boxing?
"Of course. Even the basics make you stronger than if you learned nothing at all. In this world, so many battles rely overly on a Quirk. Combat skills really mean knowing how to use that Quirk effectively."
"But what’s wrong with honing the way you use your Quirk? And what do you mean, 'this world'?"
"Let's not get sidetracked. There’s nothing inherently wrong with using your Quirk. But remember—humans have two arms and two legs even without one. Sure, heteromorphs are a special case, but for most people, arms and legs are all you need to fight. Fine-tune your fighting skills and you’ll be ready for more challenges."
"Hah?"
"If that’s hard to grasp, imagine it like a card game. Think of your Quirk as the trump card in your deck. Naturally, you’d build your strategy around it. But life doesn’t always play out perfectly—a trump card can be negated or countered. Then what? Are you just going to sit back and wait for someone else to act, or resign yourself to defeat? I know you’re not the type to give up. I’m guessing you share the same stubborn drive."
"Yeah... I guess so."
Bakugo grunted in acknowledgment.
Sure enough, even this fiercely proud kid—hard to believe he was the same age—had a point.
"That’s why you need proper training in martial arts. At the very least, learning them won’t leave you at a disadvantage. By training in martial arts and strengthening your body, minor injuries remain minor, serious ones can be reduced, and even potentially life-threatening blows might just hurt a bit rather than costing you your life. You might even save someone who would otherwise be lost. Got it, Midoriya?"
Kirishima’s words reached Midoriya, who had been peeking through the slight gap in the lodge door, eavesdropping on their conversation.
Finally aware of his presence, Bakugo scowled and turned away.
Midoriya, red-faced and fidgeting with his hands, stammered, "I—I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop..."
"It’s all right. Since it’s a conversation you’re allowed to hear, I’m glad you came over to listen," Kirishima said.
"Oh..."
Hesitantly, Midoriya joined Bakugo at his side.
Bakugo’s expression remained unamused, but he said nothing further.
Kirishima, inwardly pleased that his lengthy talk from the previous day had found its mark, continued speaking without betraying a hint of satisfaction.
"Listen, this is just what I think. Martial arts have nearly vanished these days, so you probably never had the chance to learn. In your case, Midoriya, most people around you probably dismissed you as useless because you’re Quirkless, so the idea of training might never have even occurred to you."
"Th-that's not..."
Midoriya began to protest, then fell silent, lowering his head.
Because it was true.
Even his mom—usually the one who loved him more than anyone—had expressed regret rather than encouragement.
And the others had nothing more to add.
"Hold your head up. What did you do wrong? If you haven’t done anything, don’t lower it. I told you this yesterday: hold on to your pride. You still want to be a hero, right?"
"Huh? How did you know?"
"You talked about heroes non-stop at dinner last night. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice? Sure, a kid might have what some call a foolish dream, but who cares? If you want to be a hero, then go all in."
"Yeah..."
Before Midoriya could lower his head again, Kirishima roughly tousled his hair.
The strands, still tousled from not having washed, clung to his hand.
"Not again—keep your head up. If you want to be a hero without a Quirk, you have to believe in yourself. From now on, everyone will tell you that you can’t do it, but you still want to, don’t you? You want to save people. So, do it. Even if you fail miserably, fight until your last breath. Show the world your determination and declare it proudly: I will become a hero!"
What you want to do and what you’re capable of are not always the same.
Even so, from the perspective of someone daring to challenge the impossible, Midoriya’s dream of becoming a hero despite being Quirkless didn’t seem so far-fetched.
Kirishima, blessed in so many ways, couldn’t help but feel a twinge of apprehension when he thought of the unbeatable All Might.
It wasn’t just that All Might was strong; for Kirishima, the key was that the man was indisputably the strongest.
As one who dreamed of being the strongest, it almost felt like cheating.
Yet this only fueled his determination further.
Really, wasn’t it easier for a Quirkless person to become a hero than for someone like him to surpass All Might?
"At the very least, I believe there’s no reason a Quirkless person can’t be a hero. Frankly, I don’t understand why they treat us like we’re handicapped. They act as if we were born without arms or legs, but when it comes to fighting, most humans aren’t all that different from us. And to look down on us just because we’re Quirkless? It’s absurd. It’s not like someone without a tongue is going to become a gourmet, or a blind person the world’s top art appraiser."
"Do you really think so?"
This time, Bakugo was the one answering, his expression betraying his reluctance to agree.
Breaking free from a fixed mindset wasn’t easy.
"Yeah. I truly believe that even without leaning on a Quirk, people can become strong. So work hard, Midoriya. I can at least teach you the basics of training. Of course, I’m still just a kid aspiring to be a hero myself."
"Thanks, Kirishima," Midoriya said, nodding determinedly.
Seeing Bakugo’s disgruntled expression beside him, Kirishima chuckled softly and patted both of them on the shoulder.
"If either of you ever want to train, get in touch after we leave here. You have phones, right? And if not, you can always reach me on my PC. I can put together a training program for you—although it won’t compare to having me there to guide you in person, it’s certainly better than doing nothing. And if there’s a martial arts dojo near your place, sign up. Though I doubt there is one nearby."
With breakfast fast approaching, Kirishima rounded up the duo and led them back to the lodge.
Ashido, notorious for sleeping in, was only just emerging from her room.
"Oh? Good morning, Eijiro! Morning, Bakugo, Midoriya!"
"Aren’t you treating Shark Teeth and us too differently, Black Eyes?"
Bakugo grumbled, annoyed at how Ashido’s cheerful greeting contrasted with her still half-asleep state.
Ashido giggled in reply, "Of course! Eijiro is cool and handsome, after all. You don’t look bad either—but your temper leaves a lot to be desired. And Midoriya, you’re cute too. If you want the same treatment as Eijiro, then you both need to step up your game!"
"Hmph. I don’t need any special treatment," Bakugo muttered.
"The girl said I’m cute..."
Bakugo grumbled as he headed toward the dining hall, while Midoriya murmured to himself, clearly touched.
Kirishima laughed and headed to his room.
After a quick wash, breakfast turned out to be delicious.
The table where all the kids gathered was rather noisy.
"Hey, Eijiro—after breakfast, we’re all heading to the valley to play. Sounds fun, right?"
One of the mothers, chatting with the others, suddenly remembered the day’s schedule and announced it.
"Oh, the valley?"
"Yes. Come to think of it, isn’t this your first time playing in the water too, Eijiro? You’ll even learn how to swim—your father will teach you. After some water fun, we’ll have lunch right there with the meal the lodge prepared."
"That sounds fun!"
"Wow! Water play! Water play!"
Though Ashido was practically bouncing with excitement, everyone managed to finish their breakfast without any trouble.
After clearing the dishes and packing up their picnic lunches, the group set off for the valley.
In a cheerful, bustling mood, they arrived at the valley and spread out at a suitable spot.
Before stepping into the water, Kirishima removed his T-shirt.
When his body was revealed—sculpted as though carved by a master Greek sculptor—everyone, except his family who was used to the sight, stared in awe.
"Wow. Kirishima, your body is incredible!"
"Unbelievable, Eijiro!"
"Tch."
While a glimpse of defined arm muscles suggested his strength, once his shirt was off the display of muscles was anything but childlike.
The children offered their impressions in their own ways.
Midoriya was genuinely impressed, and Ashido clapped her hands with delight, whereas Bakugo turned his head with a scowl.
Then the adults began commenting on Kirishima’s slightly embarrassed expression.
"Kirishima must really work out."
"Can a kid develop that kind of physique just from exercise?"
"Stop nitpicking! Just admit that it’s impressive."
"Alright, alright. It is impressive! Kirishima!"
"Haha..."
He hadn’t built that body to show off, so the unexpected admiration made him blush.
In his past life, he had displayed this form before hundreds of thousands watching his matches. Now, after reincarnation, such a reaction felt refreshingly new.
After the brief muscle appraisal, the children dove into the water.
While each father took charge of teaching his child how to swim, Kirishima moved through the water with natural skill.
Before long, his father also took a moment to instruct Midoriya on swimming.
Even after the exhausted dads stepped away—having been drained by the kids’ endless energy—the children continued to play joyfully.
Kirishima enjoyed the water play so much that he soon began to feel hungry.
The group returned to the picnic mats and opened their lunch boxes brought from the lodge.
Inside, boxes brimming with delicious-looking inari sushi awaited them.
Just as the hungry group was about to begin eating, the man they’d met the previous day appeared upstream in the valley.
"Oh my. Good afternoon."
"Ah, yes. Hello."
"Wow! It’s the uncle from yesterday! Hello!"
Receiving Ashido’s enthusiastic greeting as if they were old friends, he smiled warmly.
"So you’re out here with the kids enjoying lunch. It looks delicious—haha."
His kindly curved eyes fell on the children as he spoke.
Smoothly, he declined the group’s invitation to join them.
"Haha. If I joined, those adorable little ones would get less to eat, wouldn’t they? Besides, I do love my meals—I’m a big eater, after all. And I already asked the lodge to prepare lunch for me."
With that, he strolled back toward the lodge.
Kirishima watched the spot where he vanished with a cool, thoughtful gaze.
Just like yesterday, there was something enigmatic about the man.
From wearing long-sleeved hiking clothes in summer to having skin so pale and immaculate for someone who spent time outdoors, he was hard to figure out.
"Eijiro, what are you doing instead of eating?"
"Oh. Nothing at all. Haha."
Dismissed from any lingering doubts by his mother’s question, Kirishima resumed his meal.
The cool breeze, the gentle murmur of flowing water, and this time spent with good people made everything delightful.
Kirishima decided to leave his worries behind and fully embrace a day he knew he would never live again.
The explosion of flavor from the sushi, combined with this first truly joyful summer of both his past and present lives, wove a memory that would last forever.
It was a good day.
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