The gates were enormous. The ornately curved metal stretched nearly twenty feet high.
Masaru's luxury car seemed distinctly more harmonious with the enormous gate than the school parking lot.
The gates slowly swung open. The motion was smooth and noiseless. The trees on either side of the long drive were evenly spaced and ancient.
The buildings on the estate were all constructed in the same ancient style. The craftsmanship was precise and beautiful.
The car came to a stop. Masaru removed the key from the ignition and the engine fell silent.
"Don't hold back."
The estate appeared empty. Masaru's luxury black car was the only vehicle present.
Takeru followed behind his mentor. The only sound was the crunch of the gravel beneath their feet and the whistle of the wind.
Knock-knock!
The doors were equally as large as the gate to the estate. It seemed doubtful that an ordinary person would ever be able to open them.
The atmosphere was tense and mysterious. Takeru had no idea what could be on the other side of the door. The only details Masaru had given him were that they had come to visit an old friend.
The permission slip Takeru's parents had somewhat hesitatingly signed contained just as little information.
"Masaru! Come in! Come in!"
The huge doors suddenly burst open. They moved as if they weighed nothing at all.
Takeru blinked. Then, he looked up.
The man was larger than anyone he'd ever seen. Takeru's entire body was barely as long as the man's forearm.
The man's eyes were larger than tennis balls. He leaned down and bellowed heartily to the young guest to his home, "Young man, Masaru has told me so much about you! I never know he could be so talkative!"
The man's enormous hands reached over. Takeru felt an irresistible force push him forwards. The mentor and student were helplessly drawn into the huge building. The doors swung shut behind them.
"It's been years since I've heard from you Masaru! It saddens me to only hear your name from our colleagues!" The enormous man lamented.
The building's interior was dimly lit. The shadows on the walls stretched out in strange shapes. The light was provided by countless candles.
The enormous man forcefully lead Takeru and Masaru deeper into the building. The branching hallways were easy to get lost in.
After walking for nearly a minute, the enormous man removed his hands from behind his guests' backs.
Takeru found himself standing in a huge hall. The waxy smell in the air was replaced by the smell of sweat and the faint aroma of blood.
The enormous man looked across the hall. He sighed with a content kind of satisfaction, "This, is home. When I'm pushing myself to my limits, I finally feel at peace."
The hall was filled with a dizzying array of training equipment. There were strange machines with paddles and sharp spikes that seemed designed to swing and attack the challenger. There were also huge cauldrons, the legs of which faintly sunk into the ground.
Titan smiled at his young guest, "I'm sure Masaru won't have introduced me, so I will. My hero name is Titan, but you won't have heard of me. The last article written about me was more than fifteen years ago. The world has forgotten all about me."
The hero's enormous eyes narrowed slightly. His knees bent and he sank into a fighting posture. The height difference between him and Takeru was just under fifteen feet.
Titan waved his hand. The gesture beckoned Takeru forwards. Masaru had quietly stepped back to the edge of the room.
He's enormous. I must be like a toddler to him.
Takeru exhaled a heavy breath. His shoulders dropped and he lifted his hands to his face. He felt his quirk buzz excitedly in anticipation of battle. The rythm of his heart accelerated violently. The churning flow of blood was almost audible.
The surging adrenaline made Takeru feel as if his skin was on fire. His feet pushed off, the transfer of force sounded like gunshots in the silent hall.
The warlike charge stirred the emotions in Titan's heart. The muscles in his body twitched like pythons writhing under his clothes. He was a mountain of raw physical power.
Takeru's fist hurtled towards his opponent. Without leaping into the air, the highest point he could strike was Titan's knees.
'Strong for his size. The look in his eyes is just like Masaru.' Titan thought to himself.
The approach of his young guest failed to put any pressure on him. In his eyes, Takeru's violent charge was like a toddler stumbling forwards.
Titan grinned. The tip of his index finger tucked underneath his tip of his thumb.
The motion was explosive. The casual flick from Titan crashed into Takeru's chest. The power behind it surged forwards unstoppably.
Takeru found himself suddenly in the air. The pain from the violent impact registered a moment later. Then, with a crash, the wall brought him to an abrupt halt. The wind was knocked completely from his lungs.
Takeru's quirk hummed steadily. The oxygen in the air began to diffuse across his skin and into his blood. The sensation of being crushed still lingered in his chest.
I can still fight!
Takeru leaped to his feet. The mountain of muscle watching him raised an eyebrow. The fact that his young guest could get back onto his feet after recieving such a blow was impressive.
The past ten seconds seemed to play back once more. Takeru's forceful charge was met with another casual flick from his opponent. This time the impact hurled him into the air. The wooden beams in the roof produced a cascade of dust as they were struck violently by the ragdolled youth.
Takeru dropped to the ground. His arms broke the fall for him. The force behind the second flick was considerably higher than the first. The image of his bones dislocating from their sockets played in Takeru's mind. The aching in his body was tremendous.
The disparity between Takeru and his opponent was too huge to be overcome by willpower alone. There was no point to charging again. The second flick had already caused damage to his body.
With a night of rest, the small sprains and minor muscle tears would heal. If he charged again and was injured further, the recovery might delay his training.
"Masaru, Masaru! You bring such a delightful gift to your old friend! I will teach him!" Titan's bellowing voice echoed through the training hall.
Masaru snorted in response.
'He doesn't understand just how frightening the boy is. When the gap between them starts to narrow, he'll understand just what a monster he is.' Masaru thought to himself.
"The first cauldron, lift it a hundred times." Titan instructed.
Takeru obeyed without hesitation. The patterns of dragons and clouds on the smallest cauldron felt cold against his palms. The blood in his body circulated at incredible pressure. With a grunt of exertion he raised the cauldron above his head.
Titan's gaze drifted from his new student, to the old friend he'd once interned at the same hero agency with then. That was a long time ago. His view of the world had changed a lot since then.
Good and evil were broad and loose concepts. The media liked to paint a clear divide between crime and righteousness. The world was much murkier than that.
The pursuit of justice, true justice, required individuals who weren't afraid to wade through murky waters. Underground heroes allowed the general public to believe that good would always triumph. There were many undergound heroes who despised themselves for what they did. Titan had never been one of them.
When he was a little boy, Titan had believed that kindness and good deeds could keep the world safe. With age, he developed a clearer understanding. The peaceful society that normal people enjoyed was propped up by pillars of corpses. This had been the case throughout all of history. The emergence of quirks hadn't changed the simple fact.
Every child deserved to grow up believing that doing good would heal the world. That was how childhood was supposed to be. If upholding the beauty of hope, for a world in which kindness truly was enough, then Titan didn't care how bloodied his hands became.
The safety of Japan, and the world, relied on the next generation of heroes. The torch had to be passed down. The heroes of today were destined to one day be forgotten.
The heroes who worked underground had a clearer understanding of truth than the professional heroes the public admired. The things they'd seen and done made Masaru and Titan understand just how vital it was to nurture the next wave of heroes. This was why they were so willing to give their time to Takeru's training.
Takeru's breaths were long and steady. He lifted the heavy cauldron again and again. There were no wasted movements or attempts to slack off. The quirk buzzing eagerly in his blood was like a drug urging him on. With every second, he could feel his bones and muscles becoming minutely stronger.
The feeling of constant progress brought Takeru endless motivation.
When his new student had finished the hundred lifts, Titan gave the next instruction. The myriad of training tools in the huge hall were all designed to push a specific quality in the body to its limit.
The training went on for hours. The idea of complaining or asking for rest never crossed Takeru's mind. The uniqueness of his quirk had raised his resistance to fatigue to an incredible extreme.
The walk back from the training hall to Masaru's car felt like hours. Takeru felt his muscles trembling from the torment of the past few hours. The feeling of being utterly pushed to his limit was exhilirating.
The pressure he felt while sparring with Masaru or training in the junior high gym had fallen steadily as his strength grew. Against Titan, the feeling of helplessness he'd sunk into in his first spar with Masaru rushed back.
The equipment in the training hall targetted everything from his flexibility to his ability to withstand attacks. Takeru was eager to see his parents and eat dinner. This eagerness was rivalled by his desire to train again at Titan's estate the next day.
The drive back was quiet, as it always was.
The usual calmness in Masaru's heart was disturbed by a new emotion. Takeru was a shooting star rapidly gaining speed. The boy was special, the potential of his quirk was intoxicating.
With time, Titan would come to see that same dizzying potential.
The heights Takeru could reach were destined to go far beyond what Masaru had achieved. The day had already arrived where he was no longer fit to be the boy's teacher.
'The young will always suprass the old.' Masaru thought to himself.
Takeru would never know the emotions stirring in his mentor's chest. The mask of apathy that allowed Masaru to remain detached from emotion prevented anyone from seeing in.
I will surprass him. I can't even handle a flick from him now, but I'll catch up. In two years it'll be time to apply to high school. I can't waste any time.
The memory of being frozen, completely trapped, in ice flashed through Takeru's thoughts. He didn't notice his fists clench at his sides.
I need to catch up.
The dinner table in the Tanaka household had always been a noisy place. Aiko and Sora listened with equal parts horror and astonishment as their son told them about his day. The training methods he described sounded like they had been taken from a torture chamber.
All they could do was put big smiles on their faces and offer what they hoped were words of encouragement. Neither of them had a quirk, they couldn't relate to Takeru's desperate training.
But when he was home, Takeru was a son first, and a hero second. The happiness he felt laughing with his parents at the dinner table was just as significant as the progress he was making.
Two years. It's enough.