I checked my phone again. "It's 3:53. The message said 4 AM."
"If you're not thirty minutes early, you're late." He took another swig. "First lesson."
"Are you seriously drinking at this hour? And who are you anyway?"
He grinned, and somehow that was worse than his scowl. "Kuro Arashi. Your mom didn't tell you?"
"Tell me what?"
"That I'm going to make your life absolute hell." He tossed the sake bottle aside. It should have shattered, but instead landed softly in a pile of leaves. "Second lesson: always expect the unexpected."
"That's... pretty cliche for a lesson."
His grin widened. "Third lesson."
I barely had time to process his words before his fist filled my vision. Pure instinct kicked in - the familiar hum of my barrier springing to life. His knuckles connected with the invisible wall, and for a split second, I saw surprise flash across his weathered face.
"Got you," I smirked. Then he vanished.
My eyes spun faster, lotus petals blurring as they tracked - there. Behind me.
Too late.
The kick connected with my side. The sound hit me first - like a windshield shattering. Then the pain. My barrier, my perfect, unbreakable barrier... broke.
I hit the ground hard enough to knock the air from my lungs. Gravel bit into my palms as I pushed myself up, mind reeling. The barrier had always been absolute. Always.
"You look confused," Kuro said, standing over me. "Let me guess - first time someone's broken through?"
I spat dirt. "How?"
"Wrong question." He crouched down, bringing his face level with mine. This close, I could smell the sake on his breath. "You should be asking 'why didn't I see it coming?'"
"I did see it coming. My eyes-"
"Your eyes." He tapped his temple. "They're not just for show, kid. But you're using them wrong. All that power, and you're barely scratching the surface."
I stood up, wincing. My side throbbed where he'd connected. "The barrier activates automatically. It's never failed before."
"Automatic doesn't mean perfect." He straightened up, rolling his shoulders. "Your barrier's got rules. Laws. Like everything else in this world. You just never met anyone who could exploit them."
"Until now?"
His grin returned. "Until now. Again?"
I shifted into a defensive stance. "You didn't answer my question. Was it speed or strength that broke through?"
"Figure it out." He vanished again.
This time I was ready. My eyes spun faster, tracking his movement as he appeared to my left. I pivoted, barrier already forming-
His fist stopped an inch from my face. "Better. But still wrong."
"I blocked it."
"Did you?" He pulled back. "Or did I let you think you blocked it?"
"Stop with the cryptic master routine. If you're going to teach me, teach me."
"Ah, there it is." He laughed. "That famous Nakamura patience. Your mother was the same way. Always wanting answers handed to her."
"Did you hand them to her?"
"Nope." He popped the 'p' sound. "And she hated me for it. Right up until she figured it out herself."
"Figured what out?"
Instead of answering, he attacked again. This time I saw every movement - the way his weight shifted, the angle of his strike, the exact trajectory. My barrier formed perfectly.
His fist passed through like it wasn't there.
Pain exploded in my jaw. I staggered back, tasting blood.
"Think, boy." Kuro's voice had lost its playful edge. "What's different about these attacks? What changed?"
I wiped blood from my lip, mind racing. The first hit - blocked. The kick - broke through. This last one - passed through entirely. Same person, same quirk, different results.
"You're doing something," I said slowly. "Changing something about each strike."
"Close." He raised his fists. "Let's see if you can figure it out before you pass out."
"Before I what?"
His only response was another attack. And another. And another.
The sun wasn't even up yet, and already I was learning the hardest lesson of my life: sometimes the worst teachers are the best ones.
Even if they're drunk at four in the morning.
==========
[Next time on "Yoichi's Hero Academia"]
"Heeeey!" Kuro waved at the camera, cheeks flushed red. "Next time, watch this old man teach this punk what real fighting looks like!"
I pressed an ice pack to my swollen jaw. "You're drunk."
"And still kicking your ass!" He threw an arm around my shoulders, nearly knocking me over. "You should've seen me in my prime! I once fought thirty villains while hanging upside down from Tokyo Tower!"
"That's physically impossible."
"Bah! Nothing's impossible with the right attitude and enough sake!" He squinted at the camera. "Wait, are we recording? When did we start recording?"
"Three minutes ago."
"Perfect! Don't miss next time: 'The Old Man and the Infinite Ass-Kicking!' Where I teach this smartass how to actually use that fancy quirk of his!"
I ducked under his arm. "You mean where you keep hitting me until I figure out whatever cryptic lesson you're trying to teach?"
"Exactly!" His grin turned predatory. "Speaking of which, break's over."
"What break? You haven't stopped—"
His fist connected with my stomach. I doubled over, wheezing.
"See you next time, viewers!" He beamed at the camera while I struggled to breathe. "Remember kids, the best lessons are learned through pain!"
"That's... terrible... advice..."
"What was that? You want another round? Well, if you insist!"
"No, wait—"