So I'm back. How are you guys/gals/cisgender pyro-foxes doing today? It's been a while, I think. Honestly it feels like a blur.

So I have made the executive decision to make this a harem story. Hurray. Now on to answer a review by Quack Attack. Don't take this as me trying to call you out but I do feel the need to explain. As I said in the previous chapter Midoriya is stronger physically than T.J. He is faster, smarter, but he has virtually no experience. T.J. is pushing on his mid sixties in this story, considering it takes place twenty years after the events of Killer Instinct. I hope this answered any questions you had from the last chapter. Now onto the story.

"You know when you said we were going to start my first heroic act... I didn't expect you to bring me to a dump."

Midoriya stared at the beached turned scrapyard. He had to admit it was pretty bad. And why the hell was there a truck just sitting in the middle of it all?

A question for another day.

"Come on kid. A real hero does good for the sake of doing good, not for fame. Besides I heard this used to be a beautiful beach." Not the best logic, but Midoriya supposed it counted.

"Fine let's just get this over with." Midoriya's rough sigh carried throughout the beach.

He made his way over to one of the many piles of scrap that had lined the beach, reaching for it slowly he grasped the first piece of metal before pulling it out of the mountain of trash.

'This is surprisingly easy.' His mechanical arms were more than capable of taking down the heaps of trash.

"Hey kid, what the hell do you think you're doing? Who said you were allowed to use your arms?"

'Wait. What?' The boy turned back to look at the elder boxer, a smug grin lining the man's face. "If you used those then there would be no point in doing all of this."

'What happened to a real hero does good for the sake of doing good?'

He sighed once more before detaching his arms, letting them fall to the ground with a heavy thump. "Is this better?"

"Yeah kid, now start moving the trash, your goal is to clear this entire beach before the U.A. exam in ten months. If you can do that you'll have completed the first step to achieving your dream."

It would have been a near impossible task for anyone else, but Midoriya had learned early on in his training with T.J. that the word "impossible" didn't apply to them.

"Fine, let's just get this over with."

And that started the five months of hell that combo called training.

The first month had been him clearing all of the big trash that was easily accessible. Sounded easy on paper, but when you're pulling a refrigerator across a wet beach with your teeth, you tend to rethink the simplicity of the task.

The second month was more relaxing; it just involved me running around with tires on my shoulders along with a few microwaves and other small appliances.

It was during the third month that I had been allowed to take a break. Well, it was more like Combo-sensei had to go on a trip to meet "an old friend."

His last words to me before leaving were to quote: "Do whatever the hell you want, just don't wreck my gym." And so I took it as a chance to rest and have fun.

I would have continued to work on the beach, but Combo-sensei decided that a break was in order too.

Basically, he bolted the gate to the beach closed and hid my arms from me.

I punched him in the face when he got back.

Luckily my break wasn't all for not.

And it all started when I took a trip to Iwakuni.

Walking down the streets of Iwakuni, Midoriya decided to look at the attractions. He had to admit that the area was impressive.

Or at least it would have been if he at least had his arms.

Getting on the train to the area had been a nightmare, the passengers stared and gawked at him, not to mention getting a ticket.

One kid had even come up to ask him where his arms were.

His response had been, "A muscle brained boxer thought it would be funny to take them with him."

Getting off the train had been even worse.

When he arrived, it had been nice for a while, looking at the scenery, the statues and enjoying the history. However, a group of Americans decided that he would be the new attraction they were looking for.

They had taken so many pictures of him when they thought he wasn't looking.

They had even gone so far as to make fun of him in English thing he couldn't speak it, the look on their faces when he told them to stop in their native tongue had made the whole experience worth it though.

Eventually, he had had enough of being the newest attraction to Iwakuni and slipped inside a music store, more than a few groups desperately looking around to see if they could spot the man.

He released a sigh of relief when they finally gave up.

Wondering around the store hadn't been so bad though. It had a nice selection of songs, a few of the more classic covers, and an owner who was missing a leg, so he didn't have to worry about everyone staring at him.

Well, it did help that only one other person was in there at the time — a girl who gave off the whole punk rock vibe. Long earphone jacks hung from, well her ears.

He smiled; she seemed too engrossed in her music to even worry about him, looking through their selection and staring longingly at a guitar that was hanging from one of the brackets.

He wandered off to his own section of the store, enjoying the few minutes of peace he would get before he would have to inevitably go back outside.

He even found a CD that he was sure Combo-sensei would like.

It had been an old English cover of his fight song from when he was still in the Heavy Weight championships. The main attraction to the disk being his personal intro song: "I'm back to rise."

If he remembered correctly, it was played during his fight with the "Crazy Buffalo Balrog" a boxer that T.J. had described as a crude and cheap man.

He stared at it for a few seconds longer, then looked down at his arms.

His brow furrowed once again.

Well, I guess this is what he gets for falling asleep before Combo-sensei did.

He tried reaching out for the CD, the stumps of his arms grazing against the top as he struggled to pull the disk from its place on the shelf.

He had almost given up when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Hey uh, do you need some help?" It had been the girl from earlier.

She stared at him for a few seconds, distinctly uncomfortable with the situation she was in.

"If you don't mind. I'm just trying to grab the disk here."

He pointed with the stump of his arm, finding it slightly funny when the girl tried to look away from his arm.

She snaked her arm out trying to avoid touching him; he almost burst out laughing at this, before handing him the disk.

His amusement only increased when she awkwardly withdrew it, realizing that he couldn't take it from her.

"I'll uh, take it to the counter for you."

When she finally left, he couldn't help it anymore and broke out in silent giggles. It had been a while since someone had responded like that to his "disability."

He followed her up to the counter shortly afterward, smiling at her when she awkwardly shuffled back to make room for him. He placed his wallet on the table using the crook of his arm before he carefully pulled out the correct amount for the item.

He thanked her and left, getting her name in the process.

"Jirou... huh, that's a nice name."

All in all the trip was worthwhile.

When Combo-sensei finally returned Midoriya gave him his promised punch to the face before returning to work, the last two months he spent cleaning any remaining leftovers.

Five more months to go before the U.A. entrance exam, and he had no intention of wasting it.