As Mirko stares at me, I don't shy away — I meet her gaze head-on.
I observe the subtle tension in her stance. She's not standing still. Her heels lift, drop, shift again. She's practically pacing in place, the kind of energy you only see in a predator before it pounces.
I smirk."Hello, Mirko. It's nice to meet someone so similar to myself."
Her grin widens, arms still crossed."Similar, huh…?"
She scans me more intently now. Judging. Measuring."You a hero? I've never seen you around."
I stay lazily sprawled across the park bench, petting Yurei with one hand."Nah. I'm not a hero. Honestly, I'd probably be a terrible one."
That piques her curiosity. Her brow quirks."Oh? And why's that?"
No point lying… but I can't exactly tell her my hands are tied by a plot-based system limitation, now can I?
I shrug."My quirk makes it so I can't start fights. I can only retaliate if someone attacks me first — and it has to be a real threat."
Mirko blinks. That clearly wasn't what she was expecting."Huh. That's… weird. Never heard of a quirk like that."
I smirk again.
Yeah, lucky for me it's Mirko I'm talking to. She won't overanalyze it like Eraserhead or someone from the Commission might.
Then her grin returns — and it's predatory.
"What about the fox? That your quirk?"
"Oh, her?" I glance at Yurei, who blinks up at Mirko. "Nah, I kind of just… found her."
She tilts her head. Probably wondering if I'm screwing with her. Doesn't matter. What does matter is the next thing out of her mouth.
"Fight me."
I blink, and then smile.
There it is.
System, am I good to go?
[As previously stated, Host — as long as the core plot remains undisturbed, you may engage. The risk is yours.]
Perfect.
"Where to?" I ask, voice low and full of anticipation.
"Follow me!"
I do. We head deeper into the park.
Finally, something interesting. I've been craving this.
She stops in a large open clearing, far from pedestrians or security cameras.
She turns back toward me, excitement practically vibrating off her skin."So if I start the fight, you're allowed to fight back, right?"
I nod."Corre—"
Before the word even finishes, she launches at me — no hesitation, no countdown, just action.
Her signature flying kick aims right for my midsection.
She's holding back — testing the waters. Cute.
"Very well," I murmur, smiling wickedly.
I catch her ankle mid-air and pivot, flinging her across the field like a sack of rice.
"You don't need to hold back," I call after her. "That's no fun."
She doesn't respond — just launches herself back at me even faster. She's grinning now, wild and free.
"Better," I murmur."But it's still the same move."
I sidestep, charging up a punch. I have to hold back, of course — I'd rather not break her in half. She's strong, but I'm stronger.
She reads me, twisting mid-air to dodge, then throws a mid-air kick.
"Luna Arc!"
The name echoes with her motion.
I duck under it, heart rate picking up just slightly.
She's good. That quirk of hers might be simple, but she squeezes every drop of potential from it. Imagine if she had One For All...
I counter with my own roundhouse kick. She lands just in time to lean back and avoid it. She puts distance between us, her chest rising with exertion, eyes gleaming.
"You're strong!" she barks. "And I can tell you're holding back — which is really pissing me off! So I'm gonna make you get serious!"
No more words after that. Just action.
She charges me on foot this time — smart move. More control, more flexibility.
Fine. I'll stay around her level. Let's keep this interesting.
She goes for another roundhouse. I mirror her. Our legs collide midair, neither of us giving ground.
Her grin is full feral now.
"Luna Rush!"
Kick after kick rains down. I cross my arms, blocking most, absorbing the rest, waiting for an opening.
I grab her ankle again — this time, I pull her toward me and plant a punch in her gut. Not too hard. Enough to drive the breath from her.
Before she recovers, I twist and deliver a roundhouse to her side. This one's stronger — enough to send her skidding across the grass a dozen meters.
"Let's stop here," I say, brushing some dirt from my sleeve.
She coughs once and sits up, clearly irritated.
"What do you mean, end the fight here?! It's just getting good!"
I shrug."Fun for you, maybe. But I'm getting bored. You're too weak to really get me going."
She freezes — then scowls. But she doesn't deny it. Because she knows.
After a moment, she huffs and stands back up, wiping dirt from her shorts."I don't think you've told me your name yet."
I raise an eyebrow."Oh? Where are my manners?"
I pick Yurei up from where she'd been watching and place her back on my shoulder.
"Kensou. Just Kensou."
"No family name?" she asks.
I shake my head."Nope. Just me."
She studies me again."Where do you live?"
"Why?" I ask, confused.
"I wanna keep sparring with you." She says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world.
What did I expect...
"Musutafu. Apartment XXXX."
She tilts her head."Musutafu? Then why the hell are you in Sendai?"
I chuckle sheepishly."I got bored. Went sightseeing."
There's a beat of silence, and then she claps her hands together.
"Perfect! You're meeting me here. Every day. Same time. Five o'clock sharp!"
I sigh, smiling despite myself."Sure. Not like I have anything better to do."
She grins wide, turns on her heel, and saunters off like she's already planning tomorrow's match.
New Routine
And so it goes.
Every day at five, I meet Mirko in the park and we spar. Sometimes twenty minutes. Sometimes a full hour.
It's chaotic. Intense. And always leaves her cursing when I leave unscathed.
The rest of my day is unchanged — wake up, feed Yurei's sweet tooth, avoid the main cast. But now I have something worth looking forward to.
Mirko's dedicated, I'll give her that.
We exchanged numbers. She only texts if she's too busy for our match. Always apologetic. Always rescheduling.
"She's cute when she sulks," I say once after a shortened sparring session.
Yurei snorts. I'm not sure if it's in agreement or judgment.
10 Months Later
The day of the U.A. Entrance Exam.
I'm perched on a rooftop near the school, legs crossed, Yurei curled in my lap.
Below, the next generation of heroes gathers.
Students buzz with nervous energy. Parents linger nearby. And me? I'm waiting for a very particular head of green broccoli to show up.
I glance around at the sea of cameras, drones, and security sensors covering the school like a fortress.
"Good thing I'm invisible to all that," I mutter.
[For convenience, the Host's inventory spirit is also undetectable by automated surveillance.]
"Truly the [Convenience System]. I knew I could count on you." I smirk.
[Host, please stop renaming me.]
I ignore it.
Down below, the main character arrives.
Midoriya Izuku stands at the gate, staring up at the school like it's the Gates of Heaven. He's trembling. Eyes wide.
"I can almost hear his insecurities from here," I murmur.
All Might... you seriously gave your power to this kid? Not Mirio? Why? Sympathy? Nostalgia? Guilt?
Deku takes a deep breath and steps forward — and immediately trips. Just like in the anime.
A brown-haired girl catches him.
I sigh, resting my chin on my fist.
"Truly a waste."