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In MHA, I Have A Pirated Version Of Gojo's Limitless: 66 Exposed 2
🕑 Added 2025-10-09 17:39:21 +0000 UTCThe classroom buzzed like a beehive after Aizawa’s departure.
Ashido had practically vaulted over her desk to get to Kirishima, and Kaminari’s voice carried over everyone else’s like static.
“It was crazy,” Kirishima said, rubbing the back of his neck. “We got warped, like, super far away, and then these villains just kept coming—”
“Wait, you got warped?” Kaminari interrupted, already leaning in. “Like, teleportation?”
“Yeah,” Jiro answered. “This guy with a mist Quirk. He scattered us all over the place.”
The questions came in waves after that — What did you see? How many were there? Did you fight? Were you scared?
It was the kind of chaos only teenagers who’d just survived a near-death experience could create.
I let the noise wash over me from my seat, not really participating.
My brain had already switched into its post-crisis mode: cataloging details, sorting outcomes, mentally running a “what went wrong and what didn’t” checklist.
At least, that was the plan — until I noticed movement at the edge of my desk.
Midoriya, Iida, and Tsuyu had formed a small semicircle around me, their faces equal parts exhaustion and curiosity.
“Today was intense, ribbit,” Tsuyu said, perfectly summing it up in four words.
“You can say that again,” Iida replied, voice stiff but sincere. “To think villains would attack U.A. of all places. The sheer audacity is baffling.”
Midoriya nodded in agreement, his mop of hair bobbing as he spoke.
“Nevertheless, it was pretty dangerous. Luckily we all came out alive without any damaging injuries.”
I blinked. Then blinked again.
And then I just looked at him — long and hard.
Bandages? Check. Arm cast? Check. Leg brace? Double check.
I tilted my head slowly. “You’re not speaking for yourself, are you, Deku?”
His expression froze like a computer error screen. “Huh?”
“Because I could’ve sworn I saw a guy who looked exactly like you in Recovery Girl’s office, wrapped up like a Christmas present and crying because his limbs were broken. Or was that your evil twin?”
Midoriya’s face went crimson. “I–I didn’t cry—”
“Uh-huh.” I pointed lazily at the bandages on his arm. “You’re two-for-two on major injuries this week, by the way. If you don't learn to control that quirk of yours, you just might collect the full set.”
Iida made a scandalized noise. “Takumi-san! This is not the time to mock our classmate’s heroism!”
“I’m not mocking,” I said with a slight smile. “I’m just pointing out that at this rate, he’ll qualify for a loyalty card at Recovery Girl’s office. Ten visits, one free healing.”
Tsuyu croaked softly. “Ribbit… that’s dark.”
“Yeah,” Midoriya muttered, pouting slightly. “Very funny.”
Everyone smiled.
I was about to say something else when the door slid open and Aizawa’s voice called back from the hallway, “Dismissed. Don’t linger.”
I blinked.
'That was fast.'
And just like that, the dam broke.
"Finally," Kaminari groaned, stretching. "I need like twelve hours of sleep."
"Make it twenty," Jiro muttered, slinging her bag over her shoulder.
Desks screeched. Backpacks zipped. The energy in the room shifted from tense relief to restless release as everyone began filing out. Students moved in small clusters — Yaoyorozu and Jiro with Team B, Kaminari and Sero trying to drag Bakugo into a conversation he clearly didn’t want, Midoriya’s trio heading toward the main gates where parents were apparently waiting.
I packed up slowly, letting the others rush ahead.
Not because I wanted to be the mysterious loner type — mostly because my brain was still trying to process the entire day.
I’d fought villains. Again.
Revealed too much. Again.
Lied to geniuses. Again.
And yet somehow, everything had gone right.
That kind of luck didn’t sit well with me.
I slung my bag over my shoulder and was halfway to the door when someone called out, “Takumi-san”
I turned.
Jiro stood a few feet away, hands shoved in her pockets, expression somewhere between awkward and determined.
"Hey," I said. "What's up?"
“I just—” She rubbed the back of her neck, clearly uncomfortable. “I wanted to say thanks. For earlier. The speech thing. I didn’t say it then because, well… everyone was there.”
“Ah,” I said, scratching my cheek. “So now you can safely admit it was terrible.”
She snorted. “No, actually… it helped. I don’t know how you do that — talk like it’s no big deal and somehow make everyone feel better.”
“I wing it,” I said honestly. “Half the time I have no idea what I’m saying until it’s already out of my mouth.”
“Could’ve fooled me.” She smiled faintly, the kind that didn’t reach the eyes but was real enough. I smiled in return. "Well, if my words can impress a pretty lady, then i'll need to put in more practice."
Her smile lingered for a second longer than expected before she looked away, clearly trying to hide it.
“Well, you’ve got a knack for saying the right thing at the worst possible time. Guess that’s part of your charm.”
“Charm, huh? I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said. “Even if it sounds dangerously close to sarcasm.”
She shrugged. “Interpret it however you want.”
A brief silence followed. Not the awkward kind — more like the quiet that comes after shared chaos. Students passed around us in twos and threes, laughter already creeping back into their voices like they were trying to force normalcy to return.
Jiro shifted her bag higher on her shoulder. “Anyway… that’s all I wanted to say. Thanks.”
"Anyway… that's all I wanted to say. Thanks."
I nodded. "Anytime. And hey—if you need to talk later, about today or whatever, feel free. I'm told I'm occasionally not terrible at listening."
"Occasionally?" she repeated, arching an eyebrow.
"I'm being generous with my self-assessment."
That got a genuine laugh out of her—short, but real.
Compared to my last time with Momo, I was getting good at this.
Or maybe it's just the trauma making her more receptive to my jokes.
"I'll keep that in mind," she said, turning toward the door. "Come on. Let's get out of here before Aizawa decides we're loitering and adds detention to today's trauma."
"That sounds exactly like something he'd do," I agreed, falling into step beside her.
We fell into step together, joining the slow migration of students filtering into the hallway. The conversation continued—lighter now, less intense. She asked about what my Quirk actually was.
Well, for a silent guy, let's just say Todoroki was quite forthcoming about the battle with the league of villains when asked. I kept the conversation going.
My powers were public information anyway.
Finally, we turned a corner, heading toward the main entrance. The hallway opened up into a wider corridor lined with windows that showed the front gates—where a small crowd of parents and guardians had gathered, looking equal parts relieved and furious.
"Looks like the cavalry's here," Jiro observed.
"Yeah." I spotted a few familiar faces—Iida's family, Uraraka's parents, even what looked like Yaoyorozu's driver standing beside an expensive-looking black car. "Your parents coming?"
"Probably," she said. "They're usually pretty chill, but after today… yeah, I'm expecting an earful."
"Classic."
I grinned. "My mom's probably already planning to either hug me to death or ground me for a month once I tell her what happened. Maybe both."
Jiro smiled faintly. "Sounds about right.
And that's when I saw him.
Todoroki.
He stood near the wall, arms crossed, expression as cold and unreadable as ever. But his heterochromatic eyes were locked directly on me, and the intent was unmistakable.
'Oh, come on.'
Jiro followed my gaze and immediately caught on. "Uh… I think that's your cue."
"Unfortunately."
She gave me a sympathetic look. "Good luck with… whatever that is."
"Thanks," I said dryly. "I'll need it."
She hesitated for a second, like she wanted to say something else, but ultimately just nodded and headed toward the exit, leaving me to face the human ice sculpture waiting at the end of the hall.
I made my way over, not bothering to hide my annoyance.
Having a pleasant chat with a girl was leagues ahead of talking to the current stiff-necked Todoroki, who—based on his expression and my meta knowledge of the series—definitely wasn't about to tell me anything I'd want to hear.
"Todoroki," I greeted flatly as I stopped a few feet away. "You planning to stand there all day, or was there something you needed?"
"I need to talk to you," he said simply, his tone as cold and detached as his ice Quirk.
"Clearly." I crossed my arms. "So talk."
From today's events, I had a pretty good guess what he wanted to talk about. Most likely, Shigaraki's whole failed command spectacle back during the battle.
He pushed off the wall, straightening to his full height. For a moment, he just studied me—like he was calculating something, measuring variables I couldn't see. Then he spoke.
"You're strong."
I blinked. "...Okay?"
"Stronger than most of our classmates," he continued, his voice devoid of emotion. "I can't judge your performance during the battle trial, but today, you fought alongside All Might against an enemy that matched him in power. You held your own."
"I had a Quirk advantage," I said dismissively. "It wasn't skill. Just the right tool at the right time."
"Don't downplay it. It's a feat regardless."
"Is this going somewhere?" I asked, beginning to think my initial guess was somewhat off.
"The U.A. Sports Festival is coming up," Todoroki said, his gaze never wavering. "It's the biggest stage we'll have to prove ourselves. Scouts, agencies, the public—everyone will be watching."
"Yeah, I'm aware."
"I'm going to win," he stated, as if it were a law of nature. "And to do that, I'll need to beat you."
"..."
Well, I never said I couldn't be wrong.
"...Are you being serious right now?" I finally said. "We just survived a villain attack. People died today. All Might is in Recovery Girl's office with broken ribs. And you're standing here issuing a formal challenge for a sports festival that's still weeks away?"
"Yes."
"Un-freaking-believable." I rubbed my face tiredly. "You know what? Fine. Challenge accepted. Are you happy now?"
"This isn't about happiness." His expression didn't change one bit. "It's about proving something."
I frowned. "What point?"
He was silent for a moment.
"It's a bit personal. But your fight with All Might showed me you're strong. I have a goal I want to fulfill ... "
"Hmph! Well get in line Half-Half."
A third party voice interjected. 'Oh come on.' I groaned internally, too tired to turn around to see Bakugo approaching.
Beside him, Kaminari and Sero.
"I've already got the rights to take his ugly ass down. You got that? He's mine."
I shivered instinctively. "That sounds wrong on so many levels."
"WHAT DID YOU SAY?" The boy snarled through gritted teeth.
I resisted the urge to let out an exasperated sigh. I’d already used up my daily quota of emotional energy dealing with psychopaths and near-death experiences. Bakugo Katsuki barely registered as a mild inconvenience after that.
“I said,” I replied evenly, “that your phrasing sounded weird. Maybe try adding ‘in combat’ next time before people start getting the wrong idea.”
“You little—” His palms sparked, heat flaring between his fingers.
I paid him little attention. Todoroki paid him less.
" ... Beating you will be the first step to affirming it."
The words hung in the air, quiet but weighted — the kind of sentence that didn’t need shouting to hit hard.
He paused, studying me again with that unreadable look of his before adding, “I don’t plan to waste time on anyone who isn’t worth it.”
That earned him a beat of silence.
Not from me — I’d gotten used to emotionally stunted prodigies by now. But Bakugo?
Oh, Bakugo took it personally.
“The hell’s that supposed to mean, Half-and-Half?” Bakugo snarled, stepping forward so fast Kaminari instinctively grabbed his arm. “You saying the rest of us aren’t worth your time?”
Todoroki didn’t even blink. “Interpret it however you want.”
That calm, almost dismissive tone hit Bakugo harder than a slap. The air between them seemed to crackle — Bakugo with literal sparks dancing between his palms, Todoroki exuding the kind of cold that made you feel like the temperature had dropped five degrees.
“Watch your damn mouth,” Bakugo hissed, every muscle in his neck taut. “You think you’re hot shit ‘cause of you won first huh in our training huh? You’re not the only one aiming for the top.”
"Says the only guy who got captured. And I never said I was,” Todoroki replied evenly. “But I know who stands in my way.”
“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” Bakugo growled, stepping forward until the sparks popping off his hands painted the hallway walls orange. “You think he’s your benchmark? Not me?!”
Kaminari and Sero both flinched, probably calculating how far they’d have to run if Bakugo decided to start throwing explosions indoors.
Todoroki’s tone didn’t change. “I think I’ve made myself clear.”
For a moment, it looked like Bakugo was going to explode — literally — but even he seemed to realize how pointless it would be to pick a fight in the hallway after a villain attack. He clicked his tongue sharply, lowering his hand but not the glare.
“Whatever,” he spat. “You two can fight over scraps. I’ll crush both of you when it counts.”
He turned to go, muttering curses under his breath.
Before he could storm off completely, though, he glanced back at me, eyes sharp and defiant.
"You better not lose Takumi. Cause I'm gonna be the one to beat you. You hear me? I'll blow past both of you at the sports festival."
I raised an eyebrow. “You done?”
He growled something incoherent but stomped off toward the exit anyway.
"Damn. He's got issues."
"Cut him some slack. He's probably fuming due to his loss in the training ... You know. Before it all went to hell." Kaminari and Sero walked past with hushed discussions.
Todoroki exhaled softly.
“You’ll understand when it happens,” he said finally, turning slightly toward me. “What I meant back there.”
I tilted my head. “Should I even bother asking for a translation?”
___
Comments
Chris
He should come clean about the shadow
Radiant Tiefling
Thank you for the chapter.
