Asami waited until Yoichi had gone to bed before making the call. Her fingers hovered over the contact name for a moment - "Uncle Kuro (DO NOT ANSWER IF DRUNK)."
The phone rang three times before a gruff voice answered. "Do you know what time it is?"
"It's 9 PM, Uncle. Are you already in bed like the old man you are?"
"Respect your elders, brat." But there was warmth in his tone. "What's wrong? You never call unless something's wrong."
"Can't I just want to talk to my favorite uncle?"
"I'm your only uncle, and no. You're plotting something. I can hear it in your voice."
Asami smiled, settling into her favorite chair. "Did you see the news today? The sludge villain incident?"
"Ah." A pause, followed by the sound of sake being poured. "So that's what this is about. Yeah, I saw it. Looks like that little brat of yours finally grew a pair."
"He's not a brat."
"He's your son. By definition, he's a brat." Ice clinked against glass. "Good work though. Clean barrier control, decent spatial awareness. Still sloppy with his footwork."
"You were watching that closely?"
"Professional habit." Another pause. "What do you want, Asami?"
She traced the rim of her teacup. "Train him."
"No."
"Uncle-"
"I said no." His voice hardened. "I'm retired."
"You trained me."
"That was different. You were-" He stopped abruptly.
"I was what?"
"Doesn't matter. I'm done teaching."
Asami set her cup down. "It's been seven years, Uncle. You can't keep punishing yourself for-"
"Don't." The word came out like a thunderclap. "Just don't."
Silence stretched between them.
"He's different," Asami said finally. "You saw how he moved. How he acted. Like..."
"Like Shinji?" Kuro's laugh was bitter. "That's not the selling point you think it is, kid."
"Like you," she corrected. "Before everything happened. When you still believed in heroes."
"Low blow."
"But accurate." She leaned forward. "One week."
"What?"
"Give him one week. If you don't see what I see, I'll never ask again."
The line went quiet except for the sound of sake being poured.
"You really think he's got it?" Kuro asked finally. "The real thing?"
"I think he'll be the greatest hero of our time." Asami smiled. "But you won't know unless you try."
Another long pause. Ice shifting in glass.
"One day," he growled. "And when he fails-"
"When he succeeds," she interrupted, "you'll owe me a bottle of that sake you're drinking."
"Still a brat yourself." But she could hear him smiling. "Fine. One day. Tomorrow."
"Tomorrow? But he's grounded and has scho-"
"Oh? Changed your mind already?"
Asami sighed. "No. Tomorrow is fine. What time?"
"4 AM. Mountain trail behind the old dojo."
"That's... excessive."
"You wanted me to train him." The smile in his voice turned predatory. "This is me training him."
"Try not to break him completely."
"No promises." He paused. "Hey, Asami?"
"Mm?"
"That thing you said, about believing in heroes..."
"Yes?"
"Maybe you're right. Maybe it's time." The line went dead.
Asami stared at her phone for a long moment before pulling up her messages.
To: Yoichi
"4 AM tomorrow. Mountain trail behind the old Arashi dojo. Don't be late."
From: Yoichi
"What? Why? I'm grounded remember?"
To: Yoichi
"Your training starts tomorrow. Sleep well. You'll need it."
From: Yoichi
"Wait what training? Mom? MOM?"
Asami smiled and turned off her phone. She picked up her teacup, now cold, and walked to the window. The city lights sparkled below, but her eyes were drawn to the dark mountain silhouette looming behind them.
"Don't prove me wrong," she whispered. But she wasn't sure if she was talking to Yoichi or Kuro.
In a small apartment across town, Kuro Arashi poured another cup of sake and looked at an old photo on his wall. Two figures in training gi, one tall and proud, the other young and fierce. Both smiling. Both believing in heroes.
The photo had a crack running through it, splitting the younger figure in half.
Kuro drained his cup and turned away. One day to prove Asami right or wrong. One day to see if this kid really had what it took.
One day to face old ghosts.
He grabbed his phone and sent a single message:
To: Asami
"If he's late, deal's off."
The response came immediately:
From: Asami
"He won't be."
Kuro smiled despite himself. Some things never changed.
The mountain waited, patient and indifferent to the drama about to unfold on its slopes. Tomorrow would come soon enough.
Three people lay awake that night, each lost in their own thoughts. A mother who believed in second chances. A teacher who'd lost faith. And a boy who had no idea what he was getting into.
The city slept on, unaware that tomorrow marked the beginning of something new. Something that would change everything.
Or nothing at all.
It all depended on what happened tomorrow.
[With Yoichi]
I stumbled out of the taxi at 3:18 AM, yawning so hard my jaw cracked. The driver gave me a look that screamed "your funeral, kid" before peeling away into the darkness.
The mountain loomed ahead like a wall of black, no streetlights or paved roads in sight. Just dirt, trees, and what looked like the start of a hiking trail marked by a weathered wooden sign. The kanji was so faded I had to squint to make it out: "Arashi Dojo - 2km."
My stomach chose that moment to remind me I'd skipped dinner. "What I wouldn't give for an Italian beef right now," I muttered, adjusting my gym bag. "Or literally any food."
The path ahead disappeared into darkness. No signs of civilization except the distant city lights behind me. Who even built a dojo up here? And why was Mom so insistent I train with some old geezer I'd never met?
I checked my phone: 3:26 AM. The screen's glow felt offensive in all this darkness.
Last Message from Mom: "Don't be late. And Yoichi? Try not to die."
"Super reassuring, thanks Mom." I pocketed the phone and started walking. The gravel crunched under my feet, echoing in the pre-dawn silence.
Twenty minutes in, I realized three things:
This path was way steeper than it looked
I was out of shape for someone with a supposedly powerful quirk
I had no idea what I was doing here
A branch snapped somewhere in the darkness. I definitely didn't jump. And that totally wasn't a yelp. Just... clearing my throat. Manly-like.
"Scared already, brat?"
I spun around. Nothing but shadows and trees.
"Up here."
I looked up. A figure sat perched on a branch about twenty feet overhead, sake bottle in hand. As I watched, he took a long drink.
"Are... are you drunk?"
"Probably." The figure dropped from the branch, landing without a sound. He was tall, built like a mountain himself, with wild grey hair and a beard that looked like it had never met a comb.
"You're late."