[One Day Later - School Rooftop - After Classes]
The afternoon sun beat down mercilessly on the school's rooftop, turning the concrete into a miniature griddle and making the air shimmer with heat waves. I stood near the railing with hands in my pockets while gazing out over the sprawling cityscape of Musutafu.
'Peaceful,' I thought, enjoying the brief moment of solitude. 'Almost too peaceful. Which usually means—'
Creak.
The rooftop door opened behind me. 'And there it is.'
"H-heyyy... Denki-kun..."
The voice was nervous, trembling, barely audible over the ambient city noise.
'Oh no.' I turned slowly, already feeling the weight of impending awkwardness settling over my shoulders like a lead blanket.
A girl from Class 2-B stood in the doorway, her face flushed a deep crimson that had nothing to do with the heat. Her hands were clasped together in front of her chest in that classic confession pose I'd seen far too many times. Her school uniform was immaculate—freshly pressed, not a single wrinkle. Her hair was tied back with a cute ribbon that matched her uniform's trim.
Yamada-san, my enhanced memory supplied. Second year with decent grades and a member of the art club. We'd exchanged maybe three sentences total in the past year, mostly variations of "excuse me" and "sorry" when passing in crowded hallways.
'Here we go again,' I thought with internal resignation.
"W-will you..." She took a shaky breath, "Will you go out with me?"
'Confession number seventeen this year? Eighteen? I've honestly lost count.'
I maintained a carefully neutral expression—slightly surprised, appropriately flustered, but not unkind. This required delicate handling. After all, the last thing I needed was a rejection gone wrong turning into someone's villain origin story.
'That would be both dangerous and incredibly clichéd,' I mused. 'Like something out of a bad fanfiction. "Local boy rejects girl, girl becomes supervillain bent on revenge." Yeah, no thanks.'
I ran through my mental catalog of practiced responses, each one carefully crafted over years of experience.
'Option A: The "I'm focusing on my studies" excuse. Too generic, sounds insincere.'
'Option B: The "I'm not ready for a relationship" deflection. True, but potentially insulting—implies she's not worth being ready for.'
'Option C: The Noble Hero Excuse. Perfect. Sincere, respectful, and actually honest.'
I reached up and nervously scratched the back of my neck—a deliberately awkward gesture designed to make me seem more approachable, less intimidating.
Then I bowed deeply at the waist, formal and respectful in the traditional Japanese manner. "Yamada-san..." I began, choosing my words with surgical precision. "I'm truly flattered that you would think of me that way means a lot."
She looked up, hope flickering across her features alongside the lingering confusion.
I straightened, meeting her eyes directly now, making sure she could see the genuine apology in my expression. "But... I can't date anyone right now. Not because of you—you seem like a wonderful person. But because I'm going to become a hero in the future."
Her expression shifted, confusion deepening.
"And being a hero means having a target on your back," I continued, "It means villains will come after you. And the people heroes care about? They become targets too. Leverage. Hostages. Collateral damage in fights that have nothing to do with them."
I let that sink in for a moment. "I can't ask someone to carry that burden," I said softly. "I can't put someone I care about in danger just because I'm choosing to walk this path. It wouldn't be fair. It wouldn't be right. Not when I know full well what could happen."
'Also,' I thought but carefully didn't say, 'I'm mentally in my late thirties, you're actually fifteen, and this whole situation is already uncomfortable enough without adding that particular layer of complexity.'
"I'm truly sorry, Yamada-san," I finished, bowing again. "But I hope you understand."
Tears welled up in her eyes, glittering in the harsh afternoon sunlight. Her hands trembled slightly as they dropped to her sides. For a moment, she looked like she might say something—argue, plead, ask me to reconsider.
But then she just nodded, her voice coming out small and defeated.
"I-I understand..." She wiped at her eyes with her sleeve. "Th-thank you... for being honest with me, Denki-kun. That was... that was really kind."
She turned and ran, her footsteps echoing across the rooftop in rapid succession before the metal door slammed shut behind her with a hollow clang.
I straightened up slowly, letting out a long, exhausted breath.
'Well,' I thought, rolling my shoulders to release the tension that had built up, 'that was emotionally draining. At least she took it well.'
I'd actually had electricity ready to activate beneath my skin, just in case things went sideways. A light touch to knock someone unconscious if they tried something dangerous, or super-speed to evacuate if the situation became genuinely threatening.
Call it paranoia or being prepared for the absolute worst-case scenario at all times because I'd read too many stories where rejected confessions led to Quirk-related incidents.
'This has been my life for three years now,' I reflected, making my way toward the rooftop door. 'Love letters tucked into my locker. Chocolates left on my desk with anonymous notes attached. Confessions after class, before class, during lunch breaks...'
'That one girl who tried to confess via interpretive dance was... memorable. And deeply uncomfortable to watch.'
Mina and Eijiro teased me relentlessly about it, of course. They'd dubbed me the "Heartthrob of Musutafu Middle School" and made exaggerated swooning gestures whenever someone stared too long in the hallways.
'It's not my fault I'm objectively handsome,' I thought with zero shame whatsoever. 'Ten years of bioelectrical optimization, perfect diet, constant exercise, and good genetics. This face is earned.'
Still, the attention was getting tiresome. And occasionally concerning.
'At least none of them have been obsessive stalker types,' I mused, pulling open the rooftop door. 'Yet. Knock on wood.'
I headed back inside, already looking forward to going home, changing into training clothes, and actually getting some productive work done.
'Maybe I'll work on phasing through solid objects,' I thought. 'Or just run laps until my brain stops overthinking teenage romance dynamics.'
Yeah. That last one sounded perfect.
...
[Two Days Later - Evening - City Streets]
The evening air was pleasantly cool as Mina, Eijiro, and I walked through Musutafu's commercial district toward our respective homes. The sun hung low on the horizon, painting everything in shades of orange and gold that made the city look almost peaceful. Streetlights were flickering on one by one, their warm glow beginning to push back the encroaching darkness.
"—and then the teacher actually believed that my dog ate my homework!" Mina was saying, gesturing wildly with both hands as she recounted some elaborate excuse she'd fabricated. "Can you believe that? I don't even have a dog!"
"You're terrible, Mina-chan," Eijiro laughed while shaking his head in mock disapproval. "You're gonna get caught one of these days."
"Only if someone snitches," Mina shot back, grinning impishly. "And since my best friends are too manly and too cool to snitch."
They both laughed, and I found myself smiling genuinely.
'This is nice,' I thought while listening to their banter.
'Enjoy it while it lasts,' a darker part of my mind whispered. 'Because in six months, everything changes.'
I pushed that thought aside and focused on the present moment—And that's when I saw them.
My feet stopped moving before my conscious mind registered why.
Two girls from our school—first years, judging by their uniforms—were pressed against a building wall about thirty meters ahead. Their body language screamed terror, shoulders hunched, hands raised defensively, eyes wide with primal fear.
And looming over them, blocking any possible escape route, was something that shouldn't exist outside of nightmares and horror movies.
A giant... That was the only word that fit. A massive, hulking figure that stood at least fifteen feet tall, wrapped in a tattered brown cloak that did absolutely nothing to hide the monstrous physique underneath. Muscles rippled beneath rough, grayish skin that looked more like stone than flesh. The creature's face was brutish, almost primitive—heavy brow ridge, flat nose, jaw that jutted forward aggressively.
And its eyes... Gods, those eyes.
They gleamed with barely contained violence, with an intelligence that was somehow worse than mindless rage.
'Gigantomachia,' my memory supplied instantly, recognition hitting me like a lightning bolt. 'All For One's personal weapon, the living disaster.'
My mind shifted into combat analysis mode, calculations running at superhuman speed.
'Can I defeat him as I am right now? I don't know. Can I win in a direct 1v1 confrontation? I don't know.'
'Potential casualties if we fight here are High. Collateral damage to surrounding buildings and Civilian casualties will also be high and Technically, he hasn't actually done anything illegal yet. He's just... asking for directions. Aggressively and terrifyingly, yes, but still just asking for information and I'm just a kid now.'
'Escalating to violence would be counterproductive and potentially catastrophic.'
The creature growled and leaned down closer to the terrified girls.
"Where is the Springer Hero Agency?" His voice was surprisingly articulate for something that looked like it should communicate primarily through grunts. "Tell me... Now."
One of the girls tried to speak, her mouth opening and closing, but only stuttering, incoherent syllables came out. The other had tears streaming down her face, completely frozen in terror, unable to make any sound at all.
Gigantomachia's expression darkened. His patience—what little of it existed—was clearly wearing thin. His massive hand pressed against the building wall beside them.
CRACK.
The concrete splintered like glass under that casual touch. Cracks spread across the wall in a spiderweb pattern, chunks of material falling away. The entire structure groaned under the pressure.
The girls screamed.
Behind me, I felt Eijiro freeze completely, his breath catching audibly. His entire body locked up, every muscle going rigid.
Mina tensed beside me, her body coiling like a spring, acid already beginning to form on her fingertips. She was preparing to leap forward, to intervene, despite the absolutely stupid odds.
'Brave,' I thought with genuine admiration. 'Reckless, but brave.' But I was faster.
'Well then,' I thought, feeling electricity already beginning to hum through my system like a live wire. 'Time to step up and act like the hero I'm training to become.'
I let my school bag drop from my shoulder. It hit the pavement with a soft thud, contents rattling, then I moved.
Electricity surged through every nerve in my body and the world seemed to slow down around me—not actually, but relative to my accelerated state.
To everyone else watching, I probably looked like a yellow blur—there and gone in less time than it took to blink.
I crossed the thirty-meter distance in a fraction of a second and positioned myself directly between the giant and the two terrified girls, my back to them, facing the monster head-on.
I deactivated my Quirk, letting the world snap back to normal speed.
Up close, Gigantomachia was even more intimidating than from a distance. His shadow fell over me like a physical weight, blocking out the setting sun completely.
'Okay,' I thought, keeping my expression carefully neutral despite my heart hammering against my ribs. 'I've got to admit—this thing is really intimidating. Like, "final boss of a Dark Souls game" intimidating.'
But I also knew something crucial that kept me from panicking completely, I was fast.
Faster than almost anyone in this world when I activated my Quirk properly. If things went south—if Gigantomachia decided to attack rather than talk—I could grab both girls and evacuate at speeds he couldn't hope to match.
'Probably,' I amended. 'I could probably evacuate faster than he could hit me. There's always a chance I'm wrong about that, but let's not think about worst-case scenarios right now.'
That knowledge—that escape route—kept me calm enough to function.
I stood straight, shoulders back with no visible fear on my face. And then, because sometimes the best defense is projecting absolute confidence even when you're internally screaming, I smiled.
A genuinely friendly, helpful smile—the kind you'd give someone asking for directions on a normal day.
I pointed casually to the left, my gesture relaxed and natural. "Turn at that corner," I said, "and then make a left at the big intersection. The Springer Hero Agency should be about three blocks down on your right. Big building with a blue sign—you can't miss it."
Gigantomachia's head tilted slightly, his glowing eyes focusing on me with unnerving intensity.
I maintained my smile, maintained eye contact, maintained the appearance of someone who was absolutely not intimidated by a fifteen-foot-tall murder machine.
Then the creature's expression shifted. The violence in his eyes dimmed slightly, replaced by something that might have been... satisfaction?
"Thank you," he rumbled, his voice surprisingly courteous given the circumstances.
And then he simply... left.
Turned around with surprising grace for something his size and walked away, his massive footsteps shaking the ground with each stride.
Dust and small pebbles bounced with each impact. Within seconds, he'd disappeared around the corner, leaving only cracks in the pavement as evidence he'd been there at all.
I stood there for a moment longer, still in my defensive stance, just to make absolutely sure he wasn't coming back.
'Well,' I thought, feeling some of the adrenaline starting to drain from my system, 'that was... anticlimactic.'
"THANK YOU SO MUCH DENKI-KUN THAT WAS SO SCARY WE THOUGHT WE WERE GOING TO DIE OH MY GOD—"
The two girls crashed into me simultaneously from behind, their arms wrapping around me in a desperate, trembling hug. They were sobbing—loud, gasping sobs that spoke of genuine terror finally being released.
"It's okay," I said softly, reaching back to pat one of them awkwardly on the head. "You're safe now. It's over. He's gone."
"You saved us!" the other girl sobbed into my shoulder blade. "You were so brave! You just appeared and—"
"Denki-kun, that was INCREDIBLE!" Mina arrived a second later, practically tackling all three of us in a massive group hug. Her face was flushed with excitement and residual fear. "You just—zoom—appeared in front of that thing! That was so cool!"
I spent the next several minutes calming the girls down properly—making sure they weren't injured, confirming they knew how to get home safely, extracting promises that they'd tell their parents what happened so proper authorities could be notified.
They thanked me profusely—to the point of embarrassment, really—before finally running off toward their homes, still casting grateful looks back over their shoulders.
Throughout all of this, Eijiro hadn't said a single word.
He stood exactly where he'd frozen earlier, fists clenched at his sides, eyes downcast. Even as we resumed walking home, he remained silent. His usual energy and enthusiasm had completely evaporated, replaced by something dark and heavy.
When we reached the street where he lived, he mumbled a barely audible "see you tomorrow" without meeting our eyes and disappeared inside his house.
Mina looked at me worriedly, her earlier excitement fading. "Is Eijiro-kun okay? He seemed really... off."
"He will be," I said, though I wasn't entirely certain. My knowledge of canon told me this was a pivotal moment for his character development, but knowing something intellectually and seeing it happen were different things. "I'll talk to him tomorrow. Make sure he's alright."
"Okay..." She still looked concerned.
After saying goodbye to her at her street corner, I continued home alone, my mind already working through what I needed to do next.
'First priority, tell Mom about Gigantomachia,' I thought, mentally organizing my tasks. 'A suspicious giant asking for hero agency directions is definitely something she needs to investigate. With proper backup. Lots of backup. Like, "call in favors from other agencies" levels of backup.'
My mother was a Pro Hero—not famous or particularly powerful by top-hero standards, but competent, experienced, and well-connected. She'd know how to handle this information properly and escalate it through the correct channels.
'But it's dangerous,' another part of my mind whispered. 'Gigantomachia is beyond most heroes' capabilities. Way beyond. If Mom and her team try to engage him...'
The thought made my chest tight with anxiety.
'Damn it.' I kicked a pebble down the sidewalk with more force than necessary, watching it skitter away into the gathering darkness.
It seems I need to work on my mentality too. I can't afford to let villains escape like that in the future.
.....
[The Next Day - After School]
I waited after classes ended, intending to track down Eijiro and have that necessary conversation.
But as it turned out, I didn't have to search for him. He found me first.
I was at my locker in the mostly empty hallway, gathering textbooks and stuffing them into my bag, when I felt a familiar presence behind me and knew who it was thanks to training my Bioelectricity detection.
I turned to find Eijiro standing there, his expression unreadable. His black hair fell across his eyes slightly, shadowing them. His usual confident posture was gone, replaced by something uncertain, almost fragile. He looked... defeated.
"Hey, Denki..." His voice was quiet, lacking its usual energy and warmth. "Can we... can we talk? On the rooftop? About something important?"
'The rooftop again,' I thought, suppressing a sigh. 'Recently the only reason I've been going up there is for confessions. Please, for the love of all that's holy, don't let this be another confession. I'm into well-developed girls with actual feminine characteristics. Very specifically girls.'
But looking at his serious expression—at the shadows under his eyes that suggested he hadn't slept well—I knew this wasn't about romance. This was about something far more important.
'And I think I know exactly what it's about,' I thought, closing my locker with a metallic click.
'Though,' I mused, 'it never hurts to be prepared for unexpected situations.'
"Sure, Eijiro-kun," I said aloud, giving him what I hoped was a reassuring smile. "Lead the way."
....
[School Rooftop]
Eijiro walked directly to the railing and stopped, his back to me, his hands gripping the metal rail so tightly his knuckles went white. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the rooftop, making the space feel larger and emptier than usual.
The silence stretched and stretched.
I could practically feel him working up the courage to speak, wrestling with words that didn't want to come out.
'Okay, I really should break the ice here,' I decided. I moved to stand beside him, adopting a casual posture with hands in my pockets, and offered him a gentle smile. "So what did you want to talk about, Eijiro-kun?"
He didn't look at me immediately. His eyes stayed fixed on the horizon, on the city sprawling below us, on something distant that I couldn't see.
"I..." He started, then stopped. Started again. "I also want to become a hero..."
"So tell me, Denki..." He finally turned to face me, and I saw something broken in his red eyes—something raw and painful. "How were you able to go out in front of that guy without fear? How did you smile like that when I... when I couldn't even move?"
His hands trembled on the railing. "I just... I froze. I was completely useless. Those girls were in danger, right in front of me, and I couldn't do anything. I couldn't make myself move. My body just... stopped." His voice cracked slightly. "And you..."
He met my eyes directly now, and the self-loathing in his expression was painful to witness.
"You just ran forward like it was nothing. Like you weren't scared at all. Like you were always meant to be there, standing between danger and people who needed help."
'Ah,' I thought, recognizing this moment for what it was. 'There it is. The self-doubt. The fear that he's fundamentally lacking something essential. The belief that courage is something you either have or don't, rather than something you choose.'
I'd been preparing a speech for exactly this scenario for sometime. Refining it mentally, choosing each word carefully, making sure every point would land with maximum impact.
This could determine whether Eijiro Kirishima became the hero Red Riot—or gave up on his dreams entirely.
I let the silence hang for a moment longer, gathering my thoughts.
Then I looked directly into his eyes, my expression shifting from casual to deadly serious.
I clenched my hand into a fist—partially for dramatic effect, partially because I genuinely felt passionate about this—and furrowed my eyebrows.
"You know, Eijiro-kun..." I said as my voice dropping into something deeper, more sincere. "What do you think a true hero means?"
He blinked, clearly not expecting a question in response. "What...?"
"What makes someone a hero?" I continued, holding his gaze intensely. "Is it having a powerful Quirk? Being naturally brave? Never feeling afraid?"
I let those questions hang in the air between us.
Then I smiled—not my usual casual grin, but something more vulnerable. More honest and the kind of smile that admitted weakness.
"Because if that's what you think, then I have to tell you something, Eijiro-kun."
I took a breath, "I was afraid."
...
[Kirishima Eijiro's POV]
The words hit me like a physical blow to the chest.
"I was afraid."
I stared at Denki Kaminari—Pikachu, as Mina-chan jokingly called him. The guy who was practically a legend throughout our entire school. The guy who teachers praised constantly. The guy who everyone knew would become an amazing Pro Hero someday.
The guy who'd stood in front of that monster without visible hesitation. Who'd smiled while facing down something that made every instinct in my body scream run.
That Denki Kaminari just admitted he was scared?
My mouth opened, but no words came out. My brain couldn't process it.
"But here's the thing," Denki's voice changed, became stronger, more intense. He looked directly at me, and his golden eyes burned with conviction that felt almost physical. "I acted anyway. Despite the fear, despite knowing I might not win and despite calculating all the ways it could go horribly wrong."
He stepped closer, and suddenly his presence felt overwhelming—not physically intimidating, but radiating such sheer intensity of purpose that I couldn't look away.
"Fear doesn't make you weak, Eijiro-kun," he said, his voice carrying absolute certainty. "Fear is natural. It's human. It's your body's survival instinct trying to keep you alive. Every living thing feels fear—it's hardwired into our biology."
His fist clenched tighter, electricity beginning to spark faintly around his knuckles.
"What matters—what really matters—is what you do with that fear. Do you let it control you? Do you let it make your decisions? Or do you acknowledge it, accept that it exists, and move forward anyway?"
'That's...' I felt something crack open inside my chest, like ice breaking.
"You froze yesterday," Denki said bluntly, and I flinched like he'd physically struck me. "Yeah, you did. I'm not going to sugarcoat it or lie to make you feel better. You froze, and in that moment, you couldn't act."
Each word felt like a knife, but I couldn't look away from his eyes.
"But you know what else happened?" Denki's expression softened slightly, some of the intensity giving way to genuine warmth. "The danger ended. Those girls were saved and now you're here, beating yourself up about it, questioning whether you have what it takes to be a hero."
He smiled, "The fact that you're agonizing over this, Eijiro-kun? The fact that you're so torn up about not being able to act? That tells me everything I need to know about whether you can be a hero."
My vision blurred suddenly. When had I started crying?
'Dammit,' I thought, roughly wiping at my eyes with my sleeve. 'This isn't manly at all. Real men don't cry like this...'
But the tears kept coming anyway.
"Fear isn't evil, Eijiro-kun," Denki continued, his voice gentler now. "It's not something to be ashamed of. To know fear is to know your weakness. And once you know your weakness? You can work on it. You can overcome it slowly, steadily, one choice at a time. You can become stronger."
He paused, letting that sink in. "Does that answer your question?"
"Tell me, Denki..." My voice came out rough, "Do you really think I could be a hero? Even though I was too scared to move? Even though my Quirk just lets me harden my body a little? It's not flashy or powerful or cool like yours..."
'God, I sound so pathetic.' More tears spilled over despite my desperate efforts to stop them. 'This is so not manly...'
But Denki's expression didn't show pity or disappointment or any of the things I'd feared seeing. Instead, he looked... proud?
"You know, Eijiro..." His voice carried such absolute conviction now that it left no room for doubt or argument. "A hero to me is not someone who is flashy. Not someone who has a cool, powerful Quirk that looks impressive in news footage."
He pointed at me—his finger aimed directly at my chest, at my heart.
"A hero to me is someone who will risk their life to turn their promises into reality," he declared, "Someone who sees another person in need and fundamentally cannot walk away, even when it's dangerous. Someone who makes a choice—not because it's easy, not because they're unafraid, but because it's the right thing to do."
Each word landed like a hammer blow, resonating through my entire being, shaking something loose inside me that had been stuck for too long.
"Flashiness doesn't save lives, Eijiro," Denki said, his golden eyes blazing. "Determination does. Heart does. The will to stand back up after you fall, dust yourself off, and try again—that's what saves lives. That's what makes the difference between someone who gives up and someone who becomes a true hero."
He lowered his hand but kept his gaze locked on mine.
"You froze once," he said simply. "So what? Do you think every hero is perfect from day one? Do you think All Might never hesitated? Never doubted himself? Never felt that same fear you're feeling right now?"
The question hung in the air.
"The difference between a hero and everyone else isn't the absence of fear, Eijiro." His smile grew even brighter, "It's the choice to act despite it. The choice to keep trying despite failures. And you know what the most beautiful thing is about choices?"
He extended his hand toward me—palm up, open, offering. "You get to make them again. Every single day. Every single moment. Every time you're faced with a decision."
His voice dropped lower but lost none of its intensity. "Yesterday you froze—but that doesn't define who you are. That doesn't determine your entire future. What defines you is what you choose to do tomorrow. And the day after that. And every day for the rest of your life."
My breath caught in my throat.
'This...' I stared at that extended hand, at the unwavering conviction in his eyes, at the absolute certainty radiating from his posture.
"So, Eijiro Kirishima..." Denki's voice dropped to something quieter but somehow even more powerful. "Will you promise me that you will become a hero with me?"
The question hung between us, heavy with meaning and possibility and hope.
'He believes in me,' I realized, feeling warmth spread through my chest, burning away the darkness that had been eating at me since yesterday. 'Even after seeing me freeze. He still believes I can be a hero.'
I looked down at my own trembling hand—the one that had remained frozen at my side while danger unfolded. The hand that I'd hated for not moving when it should have.
'Maybe...' I thought, feeling something fundamental shift inside me, 'Maybe I was focusing on the wrong thing this whole time. Maybe the question isn't whether I'm naturally brave or naturally strong or naturally heroic.'
'Maybe the question is whether I'm willing to keep trying. Whether I'm willing to make that choice, over and over again, no matter how many times I fail or fall or freeze.'
I looked back up at Denki's extended hand. Then at his face, at that brilliant smile that somehow made the impossible seem achievable.
'Yes,' I thought. 'Yes, I can and I will.'
I reached out and grasped his hand firmly.
"Yes," I said, "I promise. I swear on my name, on everything I am—Eijiro Kirishima will become a hero."
Denki's smile somehow grew even brighter, "That's the spirit!" He laughed, "That's the Kirishima Eijiro I know!"
"You know what?" I said suddenly with a grin starting to spread across my face. "I think I'm going to dye my hair. Make it red. Like Crimson Riot—my favorite hero. As a reminder of this promise. Of this choice I'm making."
"That's..." He paused, visibly struggling with his words. "That's very... manly of you, Eijiro-kun."
"Right?!" I felt energy returning to my body, excitement replacing the heavy darkness. "It'll be like a physical symbol of my determination! My unbreakable spirit!"
"Sure," Denki said weakly. "A physical symbol. That's... yeah. Let's go with that."
'Why does he look like he's regretting something?' I wondered briefly.
But I was too excited about my new resolution to care.
I was going to become a hero.
....
[Back to Denki's POV]
'Oh god,' I thought, watching Eijiro's face light up with enthusiasm about dyeing his hair. 'That was somewhat embarrassing.'
But looking at the genuine happiness and determination radiating from him—the complete transformation from the broken, defeated person who'd approached me earlier—I couldn't bring myself to feel bad about it.
'He's going to be okay,' I realized with relief. 'He's found his path forward and the rest is just details.'
"Come on," I said, releasing his hand and slinging an arm around his shoulders. "Let's get out of here before someone reports us for loitering on the roof. Want to grab ramen? My treat, since you're having an emotional breakthrough and all."
"I wasn't having an emotional breakdown!" he protested, but he was grinning.
"I said breakthrough, not breakdown. There's a difference."
"Oh. Right. Yeah, I'll take free ramen!"
We headed for the roof access door, our footsteps echoing across the concrete.
.....
[Four Months Later - Present Day]
Time passed quickly and now, finally, it was time for professional hero training.
I stood in a specialized training room inside my mother's hero agency—a space specifically designed for high-intensity Quirk training.
The walls were constructed from a special material that could absorb and redirect electrical energy, channeling it into the building's power grid rather than letting it damage the structure.
"Pretty impressive, right?" My mother, Narihana Kaminari, stood beside me in her full hero costume—a sleek bodysuit in shades of blue and silver with lightning bolt patterns running down the sides.
Her lightning-blue hair was pulled back in a practical ponytail. "Cost a fortune to build, but it means we can go all-out without worrying about collateral damage."
"It's perfect, Kaa-san," I said honestly while looking around at the reinforced training space. "So when do we start?"
She smiled—that particular smile that promised pain and growth in equal measure. "Right now."
Before I could react, lightning erupted from her hands.
I barely managed to dodge, electricity crackling past my head close enough to make my hair stand on end.
"Rule number one of hero training, Denki-kun," my mother called out, already charging her next attack. "Always be ready. Villains don't announce their intentions politely!"
'Oh,' I thought, electricity surging through my own body as I prepared to counter. 'This is going to be intense.'
Another bolt of lightning shot toward me—faster than before, more concentrated.
I activated my Quirk as the world seemed to slow down. I analyzed the trajectory and moved.
Crack.
The lightning hit where I'd been standing a fraction of a second earlier, leaving a black mark on the reinforced floor.
"Better!" My mother grinned, looking genuinely proud even as she prepared another attack. "But not good enough! A real villain won't give you time to think! React faster!"
Lightning filled the room—not random bolts now, but a coordinated barrage designed to overwhelm my defenses.
'Okay then, Kaa-san,' I thought, feeling a wild grin spread across my face as electricity exploded across my body. 'Let's see what I can really do.'
.....
Author's Note:
Hey guys! I hope you're enjoying the story so far. I'd really appreciate your honest feedback—whether it's about the plot, pacing, characters, or anything you feel could be improved.
Regarding the female lead, I haven't fully decided yet whether the story will have a single female lead or move toward a harem route. I'm still exploring what fits the story and the main character best. I'd love to hear your thoughts and preferences on this as well. Suggest me who is fit to be the female lead.