MHA Paragon: Version 2.0

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---

After my talk with Nezu, I asked the principal if I could use the school's training facility. A few minutes later, I found myself alone in the concrete gym in the middle of the massive open space with nothing around me. 

'Good, nothing to break and no one to hurt,' I thought to myself before letting out a sigh, "Let's just get this over with." 

Delving into my mind's eye, I found myself in a dark abyss, where the endless inky darkness moved and rippled like water. It wasn't my first time in this place, but the second. After passing out from my fight with the Chimera, I awoke inside my mind, unable to open my eyes. 

I had been terrified that I had died and gone to some purgatory realm, but a familiar presence had convenience me otherwise. 

Staring at the roiling darkness surrounding me, I hesitantly reached out with my mind. The moment I connected with the abyss, a freezing current gripped my mind in a painfully tight vice, but I managed to breathe through the slight agony. 

But underneath the freezing current was a lingering impression that conveyed only one emotion, 'Hunger.' 

"Funny you brought that up...that's what I'm here to talk about," I replied to the restless abyss, "What exactly do you eat?" 

'Hunger,' My flux insisted before an image surged into my mind, the Chimera's fearsome visage, 'Hunger!'

"Do you only want to eat the Chimera?" I asked with anticipation, afraid that my flux would reveal itself to be some evil eldritch being that consumed entire universes for lunch. 

'HUNGER!' The abyss demanded, and more images of the chimera flashed through my mind, which was a surprising reassurance. 

"The chimera's gone," I answered, causing my flux to writhe and thrash in evident frustration. "Is there anything else you want to eat?" 

I asked my Flux for a third time, unwilling to take the risk that the semi-sentient matter misunderstood me. Fortunately, my quirk fell silent, falling into a lull as the darkness stopped moving. 

I waited for a moment longer before leaving my mind and opening my eyes, 'Well, that wasn't the worst outcome, but it still leaves the mystery of why my quirk is so fixated on the Chimera. Actually, the real question is why its blood can empower my quirk in the first place.' 

Left in the dark with no clear path forward, a deep feeling of inadequacy and frustration made my lips frown, "Damnit, what the fuck am I supposed to do now?" 

"I think taking a break is well deserved," A familiar voice called out behind me. I turned around to see Aizawa walking into the gym. Even though he was covered in bandages, they didn't slow him down, "School's closed for the week; you should head home and be with your family." 

I smirked, "Probably, but it doesn't feel right...just sitting around after everything that happened." 

Aizawa nodded, "I know the feeling. Every moment keeps playing over and over again in your mind, and you can't help but think about what you could have done differently, what you can-no need to improve on." 

My silence was the only answer Aizawa needed as he stood before me with deep bags underneath his eyes, "It's okay to want to grow stronger, but just know...you went above and beyond. You're the only reason I'm standing here; for that, you have my thanks." 

I nodded with a smile, "You're welcome, though I have no recollection of saving you whatsoever." 

Aizawa smirked, "You're still not going home, are you?" 

"Nope," I replied curtly, popping the 'p' for emphasis, "Pretty sure if I go back right now, my mom won't let me leave the house for a month." 

"She overprotective?" Aizawa asked, and I shrugged, "As much as any concerned single mother should be. But I can't go back to her now." 

Aizawa tilted his head to the side, "Why not?" 

"I'm not strong enough," I answered, "I made her a promise that I wouldn't die being a hero...I almost broke that promise during my first fight as a one." 

 "I'm not sure that really counts," Aizawa muttered, "That thing was made to kill All Might. And you aren't even a month into your first year. The chance you'll face something that dangerous again soon is slim to none." 

"But not zero," I replied, "Who knows, I might have really shitty luck, and I doubt this is the last we hear from that supposed League of Villians." 

Aizawa sighed, "You're probably right, but that's above your pay grade." 

"Fuck a pay grade," I snarled, as my hands curled into fists and tiny tendrils of flux seeped between my fingers, "That thing cut me open before it tried to finish the job. It's personal now, an eye for an eye!" 

"You want to fight that thing again?" Aizawa asked incredulously. 

"Damn right I do," I snarled, "I nearly had the fucker until it pulled some bullshit final stage evolution power-up!" 

Surprisingly, Aizawa grinned at my outburst, "Good, I was worried you lost your spine after nearly dying. Now I don't have to spend another hour giving you a pep talk." 

I blinked, "Huh?" 

"I'm here to train you," Aizawa stated plainly, "Nezu showed me your footage during the incident, and I have to say...you can't fight for shit." 

"Damn, could you be any more blunt," I muttered though I wasn't offended by Aizawa's statement. 

"Dancing around the subject just wastes time," Aizawa replied as he entered teaching mode, "You can punch hard and move fast, but eventually, that won't be enough. Raw speed and power need to be honed with technique." 

"What about my quirk," I asked, "When does that come into play?" 

"That I can't help you with," Aizawa said with a shake of his head, "I know my limits, and breaking the rules of reality is far beyond that. You'll have the principal to help you with that." 

I blinked, "What? Help me how?" 

Aizawa grinned, "You'll have to ask him, but from my guess, he's investing in you, kid; I wouldn't take this opportunity lightly." 

"Investing in me for what?" I asked though I doubted Aizawa would have an answer.

"Again, ask him," The surly teacher replied, "I'm just here to make sure you know the right way to throw a punch and block one."

---

My impromptu private training sessions with Aizawa began in earnest, and I quickly learned that the one thing the man hated above everything else was wasting time. His instructions were curt, lacking less descriptive than a blank page. Aizawa's style of teaching consisted of practical, hands-on experience. 

I would either punch at him or a pad, then he would promptly list everything wrong with my attempt, 'Not fast enough, turn your hips more, overextended.' 

Aizawa would launch these criticisms one after another but give no feedback on how I was supposed to correct them, leaving me to improve through trial and error. 

And I did improve, but not because Aizawa's teaching style was some backward but groundbreaking technique. It was my quirk that saw my technique grow by leaps and bounds. 

Even though I never summoned my flux once, every time my fist connected with the pad or Aizawa blocked my punch, my brain lit up with a stream of information. 

Somehow, without even thinking about it, my brain broke down the physics and calculus behind every single punch. It calculated the total force generated with each blow, where that force came from, and where I lost energy when my foot shifted, breaking my stance or my shoulders didn't fully turn to drive my fist forward. 

It allowed me to glean the information that Aizawa wasn't so forthcoming with, but then I had a thought. If this newfound sense of mine could tell me everything I was doing wrong, could it tell me how to do everything right?

The short answer was yes, it could. The moment I considered how my body would have to move to deliver the maximum force, my brain conjured the answer. 

But that didn't mean I could execute a perfect punch. Just because I knew how I needed to move my body doesn't mean I could. Having a perfect recipe only made everything that much harder. There wasn't an optimal range or variable factors. To deliver the perfect punch, there were exact measurements, which worked fine on paper, but in the real world, It was impossible to achieve. I could never turn my shoulders at precisely 45 degrees, I would always be off the mark even if it were by 0.000001 degrees. 

Usually, this is where I would use my quirk to bridge the gap, but that was forbidden by Aizawa, leaving me to progress the old-fashioned way. 

Fortunately, my other teacher wasn't so closed-minded. 

Walking through the sliding doors, I looked around and found Nezu in his usual spot in front of the wall of whiteboards before he turned to face me, "Ah, Kenji, just in time. I hope you're ready because I whipped up a doozy for you."