[13] First Impressions and Bad Decisions
"Hard work beats talent," I muttered, echoing the old man's words. "But when talent works hard..."
"They become unstoppable," a quiet voice finished.
I turned to find a girl with split-colored hair standing in the courtyard. Red and white, divided perfectly down the middle. Her eyes caught me off guard - one gray, one turquoise, with a burn scar covering the left side of her face. She wore workout clothes too, but looked fresh compared to my disaster state.
"Sorry," I said, running a hand through my sweaty hair. "Didn't realize anyone else was crazy enough to be up this early."
She studied me with an intensity that made me want to check if I had something on my face. "Training?"
"Yeah." I stretched my arms overhead, wincing at the pull in my shoulders. "I'm Yoichi Nakamura."
"Hitomi." No family name offered.
"You training too?" I asked, trying to keep the conversation going.
"Always." Her response was clipped, but not exactly unfriendly. More like she wasn't used to small talk.
I nodded toward the dorms. "Want to grab breakfast? I'm starving after that workout, and I think I saw some eggs in the common room fridge."
She hesitated, and for a second I thought she'd refuse. "I can cook," she said finally.
"Better than me. I would burn water." That got me the tiniest twitch of her lips - not quite a smile, but close enough.
The common room was empty when we walked in. Makes sense, given it was barely 6 AM on a Saturday before the semester started. Hitomi moved through the kitchen, gathering ingredients while I collapsed onto one of the barstools at the counter.
"So what's your quirk?" I asked, watching her crack eggs into a bowl. "Mine's called Limitless. Basically space manipulation, but it's complicated."
She cracked another egg. "Half-Cold Half-Hot."
"That explains the hair."
The temperature in the room dropped several degrees. Hitomi's right hand frosted over, ice crystals forming along her fingers. "It's hereditary," she said, voice sharp as the icicles forming on the counter.
"Hey, sorry. Didn't mean anything by it." I raised my hands in surrender. "The hair's cool. Both colors suit you."
The ice retreated, but the chill in the air lingered. We fell into silence as she cooked, the only sounds the sizzle of eggs and the occasional clink of utensils. I fought the urge to fill the quiet with chatter - something told me Hitomi wouldn't appreciate it.
She slid a plate in front of me a few minutes later. The eggs were perfect, steam rising in lazy curls. I noticed she'd used her left hand to warm the plates.
"Thanks," I said, digging in. "This is amazing."
She sat across from me with her own plate, maintaining that careful distance. "Your mentor," she said after a few bites. "Who is it?"
"Kuro Arashi. Old pro hero who specializes in making students regret their life choices through 'training.'" I made air quotes with my fingers. "Pretty sure he's actually a demon disguised as a grandfather figure."
"Iron Fist Kuro?" There was a flash of recognition in her eyes. "He's legendary."
"Yeah, and legendarily insane. Had me doing one-finger pushups at 4 AM while he sat on my back telling stories about the 'good old days' when heroes had to walk uphill both ways to fight villains."
That got me another almost-smile. "You're lucky. Most pros won't take students before they start classes."
I shrugged, shoveling more eggs into my mouth. "Lucky isn't the word I'd use. Pretty sure he only agreed because watching me suffer amuses him."
Hitomi's phone buzzed. She checked it, expression closing off again. "I need to go."
"Thanks for breakfast," I called as she stood. "Maybe we can train together sometime?"
She paused at the doorway, looking back with those mismatched eyes. "Maybe." Then she was gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts and empty plate.
I dragged myself into the shower, cranking the heat until steam filled the bathroom. The hot water worked miracles on my aching muscles. Kuro-sensei's idea of training belonged in some medieval torture manual, not a hero preparation program.
"You'll thank me when you're not dead," I muttered in my best impression of his gruff voice, letting my forehead rest against the cool tile.
After standing under the spray until my skin turned pink, I finally stepped out and wrapped a towel around my waist.
Back in my room, I collapsed onto my bed. The ceiling fan spun in lazy circles above me, and I tracked its movement until my eyelids grew heavy. Just a quick nap...
I woke to my phone buzzing. 2:47 PM. So much for "quick." My stomach growled, reminding me that eggs from breakfast wouldn't cut it for the whole day. Time to venture downstairs and hopefully meet some classmates who weren't up at ungodly hours training.
I pulled on a white t-shirt and some grey sweats, then grabbed my orange Louis Vuitton sweater.
The common room chatter hit me before I reached the bottom of the stairs. New voices, the sound of luggage wheels on hardwood, parents fussing over their kids. Move-in day was in full swing.
I rounded the corner just as the front doors burst open. A blast of heat followed a girl with ash-blonde spiky hair tied back in a messy ponytail. She wore cargo pants and a black tank top, radiating an energy that screamed 'approach at your own risk.'
Behind her, a woman who could only be her mother carried a box labeled "EXTRAS." A quieter man with glasses brought up the rear, looking both proud and slightly terrified.
The girl's red eyes locked onto me. Something sparked in them - recognition? She dropped her bags and stormed over.
"YOU!" She jabbed a finger at my chest. "What's my name?"
My mind went blank. Something with a K? Definitely met her before, but where...
An image flashed - entrance exam, concrete debris everywhere, this same girl cornering me after...
Oh no.
Oh hell no.
The sludge villain incident. The entrance exam. The very angry blonde who'd made me promise to remember her name.
"Uhhh..." I eloquently responded.
Her palms started smoking.
I did the only sensible thing - crossed my fingers, activated my quirk and teleported directly back to my room.
"COWARD!" Her voice carried through the floor, followed by what sounded like several small explosions.
I fell back onto my bed, heart pounding. The woman - her mother? - was laughing downstairs.
"Katsumi, honey, maybe give him a chance to-" Another explosion cut off the man's gentle voice.
Katsumi. Right. That was definitely it.
"GET BACK DOWN HERE AND FACE ME LIKE A MAN, YOU TELEPORTING BASTARD!"
"Katsumi Bakugo, we talked about this! No explosions inside!" Her mother's voice held equal parts amusement and exasperation.
"TELL THAT TO THE ASSHOLE WHO PROMISED TO REMEMBER MY NAME AND THEN GHOSTED ME! LITERALLY!"
I groaned into my pillow. Way to make a second first impression. Or would this be a third first impression?
"Young man!" That was definitely her mother calling up the stairs now. "Come down and say hello properly! I promise she won't bite!"
"LIKE HELL I WON'T!"
"Katsumi!"
"WHAT? HE SAVED MY LIFE AND THEN COULDN'T EVEN REMEMBER MY NAME! I HAD TO HUNT HIM DOWN AT THE ENTRANCE EXAM!"
I sat up, running my hands through my hair. She was right - I had saved her from that sludge villain. And she had cornered me after the entrance exam to make sure I knew who she was. In my defense, I'd been a little distracted by the giant robots trying to kill us.
"THREE SECONDS BEFORE I START CLIMBING!"
"Honey, the dorm rules clearly state-"
"TWO!"
I sighed and activated my quirk again. A lotus pattern bloomed in the air as I stepped through space, reappearing in the common room. Katsumi whirled to face me, palms crackling.
"Katsumi Bakugo," I said quickly, hands raised. "I remember now. Sorry about the..." I gestured vaguely upward.
"Tactical retreat?" her mother supplied helpfully. She looked like an older version of Katsumi, but with a mischievous glint in her eyes that suggested she was enjoying this way too much.
"Strategic repositioning," I corrected. "I'm Yoichi Nakamura."
"Oh, we know," Katsumi's mother grinned. "I'm Mitsuki Bakugo, and this is my husband Masaru. We've heard all about you."
"Mom!" Katsumi's face turned red. "Shut up!"
"What? You wouldn't stop talking about the 'teleporting pretty boy' who-"
"I WILL END YOU!"
"Katsumi, dear," her father interjected gently, "maybe we should start unpacking?"
I seized the opportunity. "Let me help! It's the least I can do for, uh, forgetting your name. Again."
Katsumi's eyes narrowed, but her mother was already shoving a box into my arms.
"Perfect! Katsumi's room is on the third floor. You two can catch up while we finish bringing in the rest."
"But-" Katsumi started.
"No buts! Go bond with your classmate!"
I headed for the stairs before Katsumi could argue further. She followed, grumbling under her breath about meddling parents and stupid pretty boys with memory problems.
"So," I said as we climbed, "teleporting pretty boy?"
"One more word and I'll show you exactly why they call me the Human Hand Grenade."
"Noted."
We reached her door and I set the box down while she fished out her key. The room was bare except for basic furniture - bed, desk, closet.
"Just dump it anywhere," she said, kicking the door wider.
I placed the box carefully on her desk instead. "About the sludge villain thing..."
"Save it." She crossed her arms. "You couldn't remember my name at the entrance exam, so I had to chase you down. And now you pulled the same disappearing act again."
"In my defense, you're kind of terrifying."
Her lips twitched. "Good. You should be scared."
"I mean, you did just threaten to blow me up in front of your parents."
"They're used to it." She started unpacking the box, pulling out books and arranging them on her desk. "Mom thinks it's hilarious when I 'express myself.'"
"Is that what we're calling it?"
She threw a notebook at my head. I caught it with my quirk, suspending it in infinite space between us.
"Show off," she muttered, but there was less bite to it now.
"Says the Human Hand Grenade."
This time she actually smiled - more of a predatory grin, but I'd take it.
"Just don't forget my name again," she said, snatching the notebook from where it floated. "Or next time I really will climb up to your room and blow your door down."
"I believe you." I headed for the door. "Need help with the rest of your stuff?"
She waved me off. "Nah, I got it."
I paused in the doorway. "So we're good?"
She pretended to think about it. "Ask me again after you've survived a week without forgetting my name."
"Fair enough." I stepped into the hallway. "See you around, Katsumi Bakugo."
"Better remember it this time!" she called after me.
I headed back downstairs, only to find the common room packed with curious onlookers drawn by the explosions. A kid with messy green hair chatted animatedly with the Bakugos, his hands moving at light speed as he talked about hero statistics.
"And her quirk's combustion rate is absolutely fascinating! The nitroglycerin composition suggests-"
"Midoriya, breathe," Mitsuki laughed, patting his shoulder. She spotted me and waved me over. "There's our teleporting hero!"
I walked up, scratching the back of my neck. "Sorry about earlier. Not the best first impression on move-in day."
"Are you kidding? That was the most entertaining thing I've seen all week," Mitsuki grinned. "Thanks for putting up with our little firecracker."
"Mom!" Katsumi's voice echoed from upstairs. "I can hear you!"
"Good!" Mitsuki shouted back. She turned to me and stage-whispered, "She's been talking about you since the sludge incident. It was adorable."
"I'M COMING DOWN THERE!"
"No you're not, honey! Finish unpacking!"
A muffled explosion and cursing was the only response.
"Oh! Oh!" A pink-skinned girl bounced over, her black and gold eyes wide. "You're the entrance exam guy! The one who was all whoosh-" She made a zooming motion with her hand. "Moving so fast we could barely see you! Man, those robots didn't stand a chance!"
I shrugged. "Just got lucky with the matchups."
Masaru adjusted his glasses. "We should probably start bringing up the rest of Katsumi's things before she decides to make her own door."
"Good call," Mitsuki said. She winked at me. "Don't be a stranger, kid. Our daughter could use more friends who can keep up with her."
"I HEARD THAT TOO!"
"You were meant to!"
They headed out, leaving me with Midoriya and the pink girl, who introduced herself as Mina Ashido.
"So what's your quirk actually called?" Midoriya asked, pen poised over his notebook.
I opened my mouth to answer, but another explosion from upstairs cut me off.
"Maybe we should continue this conversation somewhere less... combustible," I suggested.
"Good idea," Mina laughed. "I hear the cafeteria's open."
As we walked, I couldn't help wondering what other interesting characters I'd meet at U.A. And how many of them would try to blow me up.
"Hey," Midoriya said suddenly. "Did anyone else see that girl with the red and white hair earlier?"
"Hitomi? Yeah, we had breakfast."
Mina gasped. "You had breakfast with Todoroki?"
That's why she seemed familiar.
Todoroki. As in Endeavor's daughter.
Well, shit.
==========
[Next time on "My Hero Academia: Limitless"]
"And that's why you should add this story to your library and drop those power stones," I said into the microphone, adjusting my headphones. "Though I have to apologize to my besto friendo-"
The door burst open. Todo stormed in, purple shirt rippling dramatically. "Not a single scene! How could you exclude your besto friendo?"
"You were mentioned-"
"I wasn't even mentioned!" Todo slapped his hands on the desk. "The readers need to see our friendship in action! Our rivalry! Our discussions about-"
"If you start talking about thighs again, I'm leaving."
A hesitant knock interrupted us. Midoriya peeked in, notebook already open. "Um, sorry to interrupt but... how are you doing this? The fourth wall breaking shouldn't be possible without a specific reality-altering quirk. Are you using some kind of dimensional manipulation? Or maybe-"
"Midoriya," I sighed. "You're overthinking it."
"But the implications! If we can address readers directly, does that mean we're fictional constructs? Or are we accessing parallel dimensions where our lives are being documented as entertainment? I need to start a new notebook just for fourth wall mechanics-"
"Next time on My Hero Academia: Limitless!" Todo announced, completely ignoring Midoriya's existential crisis. "Yoichi promises to give me proper screen time as we meet more of our classmates! Including that mysterious Todoroki girl he keeps avoiding talking about-"
"I do not avoid-"
"And what's this about a villain group in Kyoto? Stay tuned, dear readers!"
"Todo, that arc isn't for anothe-"
Midoriya's muttering grew louder. "If we're breaking the fourth wall, are we still bound by narrative causality? Should I be taking notes on our own story structure?"