I woke up to wet dog breath in my face.
Bobby stood on my chest, tail wagging so hard his entire back half shook. He was a fully grown Husky in his prime now.
"Okay, okay, I'm up." I pushed him off gently. He jumped down and circled the bed, whining with excitement.
I checked the time. 6:47 AM. Earlier than I usually woke up, but Bobby had his own schedule. And that schedule apparently involved waking me up at dawn.
I got dressed in the Aldera Junior High uniform. Bobby followed me downstairs, nails clicking against the hardwood floor. The smell of breakfast hit me halfway down, It was eggs and toast like always.
Mom was in the kitchen, and Dad sat at the table reading the news on his tablet. Hio was already eating, with his hair messy from sleep.
"Morning," I said.
"Morning, Kori!" Hio waved his fork. "Bobby woke you up too early again, huh?"
"Yeah. He's got impeccable timing."
Dad looked up from his tablet. "That dog has never understood the concept of sleeping in."
I grabbed a plate and filled it with eggs and toast and sat down next to Hio.
"Mom," I said between bites. "I found something interesting online last night. A martial arts dojo that offers free classes for Martial Chinese Arts, thought I might check it out after school.
Mom turned from the stove. "Free classes? That's unusual. What's the catch?"
"No catch. Just a master who wants to pass on his knowledge. I looked up reviews, seems legitimate."
"Where is it?"
I gave her the address.
"That's not too far," Mom said thoughtfully. "And you've been wanting to expand your training beyond just quirk work and gym sessions."
"Exactly. I think it could be really valuable, learning discipline and technique from someone with decades of experience."
Dad nodded approvingly. "Martial arts training is good for young men. Teaches respect, focus, and self-control. Things that complement quirk training nicely."
"Can I come too?" Hio asked. "I wanna learn kung fu!"
"You're six," I said. "Maybe when you're older."
"That's not fair! You started training your quirk when you were six!"
"Quirk training is different from martial arts. You need to be a bit older to really benefit from it."
Hio pouted but didn't argue further; he went back to his eggs, eating them.
"Just be careful," Mom said. "And if anything seems off about this dojo or the instructor, you leave immediately and call us. Understood?"
"Understood."
Bobby whined at my feet. I looked down at those Husky eyes.
"I know, boy. I've been busy lately. Haven't played with you as much as I should." I scratched behind his ears. "Tell you what. When I get home today, we'll play catch. Just you and me. Deal?"
Bobby's tail wagged harder. He understood more than people gave him credit for; he was a smart dog
I finished breakfast and helped clear the table. I grabbed my backpack and said goodbye to everyone.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
I arrived at school and found Izuku near the entrance.
"Kori!" He waved.
"Hey Izuku, something interesting happened, after school, I gestured for him to follow me to a quieter spot, away from other students. "I met someone, a martial arts master, he was a homeless guy who fought off three attackers with his technique.
Izuku's eyes went wide. "Really? What style?"
"Multiple styles, he used Eagle Claw, and some weird pressure point technique.
"That's amazing! Did you talk to him?"
"Better. I convinced him to teach me, and now there's a dojo. He's accepting students, I thought you might want to join."
Izuku blinked. "I don't know, I'm not really a fighter like that."
"I put my hand on his shoulder. "Trust me, this could be really good for you."
Izuku was quiet for a moment. He seemed to be running through scenarios in his head the way he always did.
"Okay," he said finally. "I'll try it. When do we start?"
"Today, after school. I'll take you there."
His face lit up, "Should I bring anything? Special clothes? Equipment?"
"Just yourself and an open mind."
The school day passed slowly. Classes that felt meaningless compared to what I'd experienced yesterday. Teachers yapping about math and literature, while I thought about flying and terrorists, but I paid attention and took notes, and participated when called on.
Finally, the last bell rang.
I met Izuku outside, he'd changed into more comfortable clothes, athletic shoes instead of his usual sneakers.
"Ready?" I asked.
"Ready. Though I'm nervous, what if I'm terrible at it?"
"Everyone's terrible at first, that's what training is for."
We started walking, and I led him through the streets toward Chi Fu's dojo.
"Oh, I almost forgot," I said. "I unlocked a new quirk development yesterday, want to see?"
"New development? What kind?"
I found a quiet alley, then I let the transformation happen.
The change was instant now, and Izuku's jaw dropped.
"You're... you're completely ice. Like, not just covered in ice. You ARE ice." He circled me, eyes wide with wonder. "How? What triggered this? What are the limitations? Can you still feel? Do you need to breathe? What happens if someone shatters part of you?"
And there it was, the tangent, I'd always found it funny.
"The transformation happened during training yesterday," I said. I was pushing my quirk to its limits, trying new techniques, and something clicked. My body just... changed."
"Can you demonstrate the capabilities? Speed? Strength? Durability?"
I created ice wings, I can fly now.
"How high? How fast?"
"High enough that people on the ground can't see me, and fast enough to break the sound barrier.
Izuku pulled out his notebook. Started scribbling frantically. "Sonic flight. Organic ice transformation. This is incredible, Kori. Do you realize what this means? Your quirk isn't just ice manipulation anymore. It's a complete ice embodiment. You've essentially become a different form of life when transformed."
"That's one way to put it."
"Can you still use all your normal ice abilities in this form?"
"Yeah. Everything I could do before, just stronger, with no stamina cost for creation or maintenance."
"No stamina cost? That's... that's broken. Most quirks have energy limitations. Physical or mental fatigue from extended use. But you're saying this form has infinite sustainability?"
"For ice creation, yes. I still get mentally tired if I push too hard, but the actual ice manipulation is effortless."
Izuku wrote faster. His handwriting was barely legible at this speed. "This changes your entire combat potential. You could outlast almost any opponent through attrition and create constructs continuously while they exhaust themselves trying to destroy them."
I let the transformation fade, Ice converting back to flesh. "It's useful, but it's not invincible. I probably would still get one-shot by all might."
"Every person does, he chuckled. Izuku closed his notebook. "Thanks for showing me. I'll analyze it more later, maybe come up with some applications you haven't considered."
"I'd appreciate that."
We continued walking, and the dojo appeared at the end of the street, but it was different now. The damage from yesterday's fight was gone. Or at least covered up. The entrance looked clean.
Chi Fu stood outside. He'd cleaned up, shaved the unkempt beard, and cut his hair. Wore proper clothes instead of rags. He looked like a different person instead of that homeless bum.
His eyes met mine and a moment of shared understanding passed between us.
"Master Chi Fu," I said formally. "This is my friend, Izuku Midoriya. I told him about your dojo. He'd like to train with us if you'll accept him."
Chi Fu looked at Izuku for a minute.
"You're quirkless," Chi Fu said.
"..."
How the fuck did he get to that conclusion...
"Yes, sir. I am. but I'm willing to work hard. I'll do whatever training you require. I know I'm not as strong as Kori, but—"
"Strength can be built," Chi Fu interrupted. "Muscles can be trained. Power can be developed. But intelligence and dedication? Those are innate. Either you have them, or you don't." He nodded. "You have both, I can see it in your eyes. You'll do fine."
Izuku's face lit up. "Really? You'll teach me?"
"I'll teach anyone willing to learn. That's what a dojo is for, passing on knowledge to the next generation." Chi Fu gestured toward the entrance. "Come inside, both of you. We'll begin today's lesson."
We followed him into the training hall. The interior had been repaired too, with new wooden floors and fresh paint on the walls, with weapons mounted in their proper places.
Chi Fu led us to the center of the hall and made us stand side by side.
"Before we begin martial arts training," he said, "you need to build a foundation. Strength, endurance, discipline, your bodies are tools. Right now, they're dull tools. We're going to sharpen them."
He walked to a cabinet and pulled out two buckets.
"You see those rocks outside? The ones piled near the entrance?" He handed us the buckets. "Move them. One rock at a time. From that pile to the back of the dojo. Then move them back. Then move them again. Keep moving rocks until I tell you to stop."
Izuku looked at the buckets. "That's the training? Moving rocks?"
"That's the beginning of training. Builds arm strength and teaches patience. Shows me your work ethic and pain tolerance." Chi Fu's expression was stern. "Martial arts isn't flashy kicks and dramatic poses. It's hours of repetitive exercise, building the physical foundation that makes technique possible. If you want shortcuts, leave now. If you want mastery, start moving rocks."
I picked up my bucket, walked outside, and started loading rocks.
Izuku followed. His bucket was smaller, lighter rocks, but still heavy for someone with his build.
We moved the rocks one at a time, bucket to pile, pile to bucket, back and forth. Over and over.
My arms started burning after twenty minutes, muscles screaming from the repetitive motion.
Izuku was struggling after ten. His face was red with sweat dripping from his forehead. But he didn't stop or complain.
An hour passed. Then two.
Chi Fu watched from the doorway. Occasionally, he'd comment. "Straighten your back. Don't hunch. Use your legs, not just your arms. Control your breathing. Steady rhythm."
After three hours, he called us back inside.
"Water break," he said.
We collapsed on the floor. I was really fucking tired. My pain tolerance was relatively high, which kept the worst of it manageable, but my muscles still ached.
Izuku looked half-dead; his hands were shaking, with his breathing ragged.
But his eyes were still determined.
Chi Fu handed us water bottles. "This is lesson one. Physical training isn't about being strong already. It's about becoming strong through consistent effort. Every rock you moved made you slightly stronger. Every hour you endured built more discipline."
He looked at Izuku. "You're weak. Your body has no foundation. But you didn't quit. Didn't complain. Didn't ask for easier tasks. That tells me you have potential."
Then he looked at me. "You're strong. Your quirk psychology and presumed quirk training from what I've inferred, give you physical advantages. But you still struggled, that tells me you're not invincible, and that you can still grow and improve."
He walked to the wall and grabbed two wooden poles. Handed one to each of us.
"Stand. Hold this pole straight out in front of you, arms extended, don't let it drop."
We stood, extended our arms. The poles weren't heavy, maybe 90 pounds each.
"Hold it there until I say stop."
At first, it was easy, just standing with arms extended.
After five minutes, my shoulders started burning. The pole felt heavier, and my arms wanted to drop.
After ten minutes, it was agony. Every muscle in my shoulders and arms screamed. The pole felt like it weighed five hundred pounds.
Izuku was shaking, his face was pale, sweat poured down his face, but he held the pole. and refused to drop it.
Fifteen minutes. Twenty. Thirty.
"Stop," Chi Fu said finally.
We dropped the poles. Our arms fell to our sides like dead weight.
"That exercise teaches endurance. Teaches you to push past discomfort. Teaches you that your limits are mental as much as physical." Chi Fu picked up the poles. Put them back. "In combat, fights don't end when you get tired. They end when someone wins. Building the endurance to outlast your opponent is crucial."
He had us do more exercises. Squats while holding buckets of water. Pushups with his foot on our backs, adding pressure. Planks until our cores felt like they'd tear apart.
By the time Chi Fu called an end to today's session, I was exhausted.
Izuku was barely conscious. He lay on the floor, chest heaving, arms and legs trembling.
"Tomorrow," Chi Fu said, "same time. Same exercises. Plus new ones. Every day, we build a foundation. Every week, you get stronger. Every month, you become more capable."
He looked at both of us. "This is the path to mastery.
Are you willing to walk that path?"
I nodded. "Yes, sir."
Izuku managed to lift his head. "Yes... sir..."
"Good, now go home, rest, and eat well. Tomorrow will be harder."
We stumbled outside. I had to help Izuku walk; his legs weren't cooperating anymore.
"That was..." he started. Then stopped. Tried again. "That was the hardest thing I've ever done."
"Yeah."
"My entire body hurts. I can barely move. I'm going to be so sore tomorrow."
"Yeah."
"But it felt good. Like I actually accomplished something. Like I'm on a path to becoming stronger." He looked at me with tiredly. "We can't miss a day. No matter how hard it gets. We have to keep coming back."
I smiled. "Deal. No matter what. We show up. We train. We get stronger."
We made our way through the streets as the sun set.
"Same time tomorrow?" Izuku asked.
"Same time tomorrow."
We parted ways and headed home.
Bobby greeted me at the door with his tail wagging. Ready to play catch like I'd promised.
I looked at my tired arms. The aches are already settling into my muscles.
Then I picked up Bobby's favorite ball and walked out to the backyard.
Promises were promises.
Maybe that was the real lesson Chi Fu was teaching. Discipline wasn't about doing things when it was easy; It was about doing them anyway when it was hard.
I threw the ball, and Bobby chased it, and for a little while, I was just a kid playing with his dog.