One year on.
The window to Takeru's bedroom looked out onto the garden. It was just large enough for Aiko to stick her head out, "Honey, you nearly finished out there?"
"Nearly mom!"
Aiko heard her son's voice, but she couldn't see him in the garden. She squinted her eyes and looked more closely.
Aiko's nostrils flared, "Takeru! Are you lifting that tree again? What did we talk about!"
The Tanaka's had recently had a tree in their garden chopped down. That tree was currently moving slowly up and down on the grass. The tree's trunk and branches hid Takeru's chest and face, but his legs still poked out.
Takeru winced. For the hundredth he'd been caught bench pressing objects in the garden. The act itself wasn't forbidden, but his mom insisted that a heavy weight like that needed to be bench-pressed under supervision.
"Sorry mum!" Takeru called up to the window.
He heard his mother's exasperated sigh.
I never thought training could be so addictive. When you're always making progress, you can't help but want more.
Takeru had celebrated his thirteenth birthday just over a week ago. The second year of junior high had started not long after. The number of students in the prepatory-hero training course had dropped from double digits to single digits since the previous year.
The intensity of sparring in the prepatory course had increased dramatically. The physical demand on the students had also gone up as well. The tall and burly coach Masaru delighted in raising the number of laps his pupils had to run.
The fallen tree impacted heavily on the ground. Takeru got to his feet and stretched. The process caused his joints to make loud gunshot like pops. The ears of the Tanaka's neighbour had become numb to the noise.
The atmosphere at the dinner table was awkward. Aiko cut apart her sausages as if they were sworn mortal enemies. Sora looked between his wife and son. He continued to try and fail to find the right words to defuse the situation. The only noise he suceeded in making was a fish-like click.
"I'm sorry I was lifting things without supervision." Takeru said.
Aiko stared expectantly at her son. It didn't take Takeru long to realise what she was waiting for.
"I'm sorry I was lifting things without supervision, again."
Aiko nodded with satisfaction. She lifted a piece of food to her mouth, "That's better! What if you'd been hurt? Your father and I can't lift a tree off of you if it slips out your hands!"
Takeru wanted to argue and say that the tree wouldn't hurt him even if it did fall. It would have to be dropped from much higher up to have any chance of damaging him.
The dynamic between parents and children was far from simple. The person with the right answer wasn't always the one who walked away feeling good about themselves. Takeru was intelligent enough to know that his mother's concern was coming from a place of love.
"Yes mom, I'm sorry. Please could you supervise me after dinner."
Aiko smiled cheerfully, "Of course I can!"
The atmosphere at the dinner table softened. Without the tension in the air, Sora's usual chattiness quickly lead to good conversation.
The lively conversation suddenly jogged Sora's memory. He abruptly stopped what he'd been saying and brought up a new point, "I almost forgot! Your school emailed! Coach Masaru said that you're making great progress! He says that there's an extraccuricular training opportunity in Hyogo! There's only one spot and he thinks you should do it!"
Takeru brought a piece of mashed potato to his lips, "I'd like to go."
Aiko and Sora smiled. The job of professional heroes wasn't exactly one they considered safe. They'd both admitted to one another that they sometimes wished he might strive for a career in air conditioning repair instead.
The role of a parent wasn't to stand in the way of a child's dreams. Although they couldn't help but worry at the idea of him fighting villains and entering disaster zones, they were still hugely proud of their son's ambition and the work he was putting in to make his dream come true.
Since the prepatory course had begun, it was like a spark had been lit inside Takeru. The usually carefree demeanour he went about life with had changed. He woke up every day with a fire in his eyes.
The bruises on his body had frightened them at first. They still did. He would stay for hours after school, training and exercising. The quirk in his body responded hungrily to everything Takeru threw at it.
The plates were all finished nearly an hour before the Tanaka's got up from the dinner table. The time flew by in a blur of jokes and chatting.
Takeru cleared the table. The dishwasher beeped and started to run. Aiko groaned unhappily as he licked a dollop of tomato sauce from his elbow.
"I'll sign the permission slip later. Make sure to be polite to coach Masaru on the drive!" Aiko instructed. She held a glass of orange juice in one hand and a book in the other.
The summer sun shone brightly. It was evening, but the air was still warm. Aiko sat contently in a chair in the garden, reading, while Takeru exercised a few meters away.
The fallen tree weighed just over a tonne. It wasn't heavy enough to push Takeru to his limits, but enough repetitions still left his arms and shoulders aching.
Over a year, the relationship between Takeru and Coach Maseru had transformed completely. The raw potential overflowing from Takeru was captivating. The other students in the prepatory class all knew that coach Masaru's attention was 90% focused on Takeru.
Takeru's punches now packed the power of a speeding car. The fights between him and coach Masaru had become nail-bitingly close.
The growth in Takeru's strength was like a snowball rolling down a hill. With every day that passed, it grew bigger and bigger. Takeru's momentum was unstoppable.
Masaru watched helplessly as his student returned stronger every day. As a coach he was delighted, but as a fighter, it was suffocating.
The current spars looked nothing like the first fight. If he let his guard down for a splitsecond, then the the student would claim victory over his teacher.
The building pressure forced Masaru to push his own limits. He trained as if he had returned to his youth again. The inevitable was slowly approaching. Takeru was winning more fights. And he was winning them faster too.
The gap between coach and student had once seemed insurmountable. Now it was thinner than a thread.
The extraccuricular opportunity Takeru's parents had signed the permission slip for arrived a week later. The school's principal came personally to see them off. The humble and respectful attitude the principal showed towards Masaru took Takeru by surprise.
The journey to Hyogo was perfectly air-conditioned and comfortable. The vehicle they were using was Coach Masaru's own car. Takeru was further surprised that the school would sanction such an unusual outing.
After nearly half an hour of driving in silence, Masaru started to speak, "The principal is an old friend of mine. We used to be closer. We drifted apart when I went pro."
The suspicion that had been nagging at Takeru for months finally had an answer. He turned and looked the prepatory course coach sitting next to him up and down more carefully.
Masaru was tall. His fists were the size of dinner plates. The beard on his chin was meticulously maintained. It hadn't changed by more than a few millimeters in the entire time Takeru had known him.
"You're a professional hero?" Takeru asked. He'd fallen asleep dozens of times dreaming about how Masaru might reply.
"I used to be. Things changed." Masaru replied. His eyes didn't leave the road.
Takeru knew that there was no point in pressing for more details. If he'd wanted to share further, Masaru would've already done it.
"I graduated from Shiketsu High School. That's where I'm taking you. There's an exam, for candidates with special reccomendation. You're going to participate.
You're progressing fast. In a few weeks, I'll start losing in our spars more often than I win. There's nothing I can do to stop it."
Masaru looked over to his student. The contract to teach a few hours a day at the high school of his old friend had only been drawn up for a year. The money didn't mean anything to him, he already had enough zeroes in his bank account. The principal had been both stunned and delighted when he informed him that he was extending the contract.
Masaru hadn't expected to meet a genius. But he had. He saw the same look in Takeru's eyes that he'd once seen in the mirror.
When he was younger, Masaru had thought that he could fight the whole world. With time, that ambition had cooled inside of him. His quirk made him strong, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't nearly enough.
He could punch through concrete or leap out a burning building. All Might could change the weather with a punch. Endeavor could evaporate rivers with his flames. These were the giants that dominated the hero world. The idea that he could stand alongside them was like an ant dreaming of carrying the moon.
Masaru glanced over to Takeru. The boy sat quietly in his seat. His calm brown eyes watched the world go by.
'I can't beat them. But maybe he can.' Masaru thought to himself.
His strength couldn't change. It was fixed. His quirk had reached its peak, and his body had nothing more to give. The kid was different.
Masaru didn't operate in public like he once had. He still used his hero licence, but the job was different. The heroes that faced the public maintained the facade that good would always triumph over evil.
The world of underground heroes was different. They didn't recieve fame or glory. The things they did in the shadows kept the world running. And no one knew. The public couldn't know.
For the rest of the world to stand in the light, it was necessary that a few stepped into the darkness. The lives on Masaru's hands numbered more than a hundred. The blood didn't bother him.
Before the emergence of quirks, the world had been far from perfect. Now, in an age where individual power could shake nations, evil came in new forms. And sometimes, the only thing that could kill a snake, was another of its own kind.
"Do your best kid. The kids in this exam, they're all monsters. You're there to experience, not to win."
The encouragement in Masaru's voice was subtle, but Takeru saw it clearly.
"I will." Takeru replied simply.
Masaru nodded. The drive continued in silence.
After an hour or so, the luxury car peeled away from the highway. The outskirts of Hyogo were quieter than the city. The route wasn't displayed by any sat-nav or navigational device, but Masaru never made a wrong turn or needed to consult a map.
The car came to a gentle halt in front of a gym. Masaru stepped out and shut the door behind him. Takeru followed without hesitation.
The interior of the gym was normal. The receptionist at the counter greeted them with a smile, "Would you like to sign up for a membership sir? We offer a juvenile package as well."
Masaru looked up to the corner of the room. The security camera was matte-black and well hidden against the dark wall.
"We have a reservation."
The receptionist nodded. The polite customer service smile on her lips didn't change. Without warning, the wall behind her split open. There was nothing at all to suggest that the elevator had ever existed until it revealed itself.
Masaru entered the elevator. Takeru followed a pace behind him. The doors slid shud in a single fluid motion. The only light in the elevator was a small red dot on the ceiling.
The elevator began to descend.