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MHA Paragon 2.0 Chapter 55: Internship Pt. 4
🕑 Added 2025-03-15 21:57:52 +0000 UTCThe sky was painted in shades of dusky orange as the large gates of Miriko’s home finally came into view.
Though—perhaps calling it a home wasn’t exactly accurate.
"I knew it had to be big... but this is kinda insane," I thought, coming to a stop in front of what was less of a house and more of a traditional Chinese noble compound.
Elegantly curved roofs, intricate wooden latticework, and towering walls surrounded the estate, exuding an almost regal authority. It looked ancient yet immaculate, the stone paths leading up to the entrance polished smooth from years of care.
Bakugo, standing beside me, let out a breathless curse, still flushed from exertion. Sweat dripped from her brow, strands of blonde hair sticking to her face, though I probably didn’t look much better.
"I know that damn rabbit lives by herself—so why the hell does she need a place this big?" she grumbled.
I let out a tired chuckle, my own exhaustion weighing down my limbs.
"Well, at least we know she has room for us."
Bakugo glared daggers at me in response, but before she could snap back, the large gates lurched open.
Standing in the entrance, waiting for us, was Miriko.
She was dressed in a royal blue kimono, her snow-white hair loose and cascading down her back—a stark contrast to her usual wild, untamed appearance. Had I been any less exhausted, I might have noticed how well the kimono hugged the curves of her toned body.
But at that moment?
All I could think about was a hot bath and a soft bed.
"Firecracker got close to losing it, but my irresistible charm helped smooth things over," I quipped, flashing a weary grin.
Miriko grunted, unimpressed.
"I’m sure it did. Now, get moving—your day isn’t done yet."
Bakugo let out a disbelieving groan.
"You gotta be kidding me. There’s more?"
Despite her complaints, she still dragged herself forward, following Miriko as she turned and strode toward the massive Buddhist manor nestled at the center of the compound.
As we walked, Miriko’s tone shifted, her voice commanding and firm.
"Before either of you start whining, I’m going to explain the details of your training."
Something in her tone made it clear—she wouldn’t tolerate interruptions.
"Within these walls, I am your master, and you are my disciples. My orders are absolute. If at any point you disobey or question me, that will be the end of your training. And if that happens—well, you’ll have to rely on your own efforts to get off the island."
She glanced over her shoulder, sharp red eyes glinting as she met our gazes.
Neither of us spoke.
"Good," she continued, satisfied.
"The reason I chose to offer both of you an internship is because of the nature of your quirks. You’re both Emitter-types, but you rely primarily on close-quarters combat. I’ve spoken to several pro heroes with similar abilities, and they all told me the same thing—their biggest limiter was adapting their bodies to keep up with the destructive nature of their quirks."
Miriko’s words hung in the air for a moment before Bakugo let out a frustrated exhale.
"Yeah... I noticed," she admitted begrudgingly.
Her shoulders rolled, as if remembering a familiar ache.
"I used to only get cramps after using my quirk for too long. But ever since I learned how to infuse my explosions into things, I get a burning sensation every time."
"Same," I added, though offhandedly, "though technically, I’m not an Emitter—so I don’t even have the built-in resistance or tolerance to my own power."
Miriko suddenly paused mid-stride, her ears twitching.
She turned to face me fully, eyebrows raised.
"You’re not an Emitter?"
I grinned.
"Nope. I’m a Mutant, just like you."
Miriko’s expression flickered into something thoughtful.
"Explain."
"My quirk is changing my physiology passively—it's just a slow process unless I force mutations like I did during the Tournament."
Bakugo, who had been quietly listening, suddenly snapped her fingers, "Is that why you didn't use any of your black shit after fighting with the mind control creep? You used it all after mutating to create lightning?" Bakugo hypothesized and for a moment I stared at her before grinning.
"I knew you were smarter than I gave you credit for," I said, flashing her a lazy grin, "Though if you don't mind keeping that little secret between us I would appreciate it."
"Regardless," Miriko interjected pulling the conversation back on track while resuming her brisk walk, "it doesn’t matter."
Her pace didn’t slow, nor did her tone soften.
"The goal of your training is to push your bodies to the absolute limit. What you went through today? That was just a taster."
A wicked grin stretched across her lips, "The real work starts tomorrow."
"I thought you said our day wasn't finished," Bakugo asked confused.
"I did," Miriko answered with a toothy grin, "But I never said that you were exercising."
---
I blinked, thoroughly caught off guard, as Miriko slammed down a large bowl of rice in front of me, adding to the massive spread of food covering the table.
"Rest and recovery are just as important as training," she said simply.
She folded her arms, looking pleased with herself.
"After this, you’ll stretch for ninety minutes, then spend thirty in the sauna, and finally thirty more in the onsen."
Bakugo narrowed her eyes, still skeptical.
"And when do we get to sleep?" she asked, sarcastically.
Miriko’s grin widened.
"When I say so, you damn tsundere."
Bakugo immediately choked, her face going red.
I nearly spit out my rice, bursting into laughter.
"Damn—she got you good!"
"Shut up!" Bakugo barked, grabbing her own bowl aggressively. "I swear, one day, I’m gonna kill you."
"Sure, sure," I said between bites, still grinning.
I doubted she realized how fondly she said it.
---
Steam billowed around us, curling through the air in thick, rolling waves, carrying the deep, mineral-rich scent of the onsen. The faint sound of running water echoed through the secluded bathhouse, its natural rock formations blending seamlessly with the surrounding forest. The air was humid, almost comforting, a stark contrast to the grueling day we had endured.
Miriko stood at the edge of the wooden walkway, looking way too pleased with herself as she turned to face us, arms crossed over her kimono-clad chest.
"Alright, brats—strip down and get in."
I blinked.
"Wait—what?"
Bakugo, standing beside me, visibly stiffened, her expression caught between confusion and growing horror.
"What the hell do you mean strip down?" she snapped, her eyes narrowing dangerously.
Miriko rolled her eyes, looking utterly unimpressed.
"What do you think I mean? This is an onsen. You’re both getting in, soaking, and letting your damn muscles relax."
I frowned, glancing at the steaming pool of water behind her.
"Right, but I don’t see any dividers," I pointed out.
Miriko’s grin turned downright sadistic.
"That’s because there aren’t any."
Silence.
Bakugo’s eye twitched.
"There’s only one onsen?" she asked, her voice dangerously low.
"Yep."
"And you expect us to just—bathe together?!"
Miriko snorted, like the idea of any other setup was ridiculous.
"What, you think I had time to build two separate baths? You really think I give a damn about your delicate teenage sensibilities?" She huffed. "It’s an onsen. You get in, you soak, you shut up. Simple."
Bakugo looked physically pained.
"No. Absolutely not. There is no way in hell I’m getting into a bath with him."
Miriko let out a barking laugh, shaking her head.
"Oh, I knew this would be entertaining."
I sighed, already rubbing the back of my neck, feeling a headache creeping in.
"Look, it’s not a big deal. It’s just a bath," I reasoned, though I had the distinct feeling that logic wasn’t going to work on Bakugo.
Her glare turned lethal.
"Easy for you to say, dumbass!" she spat, arms crossed so tightly, I thought she might crack a rib. "You probably have no shame!"
I raised a brow.
"I mean… not particularly."
Miriko grinned at that.
"That’s the spirit! Now, quit wasting time and get in. If you keep bitching about it, I’ll drag you both in myself."
Bakugo looked like she was one second away from throwing an actual grenade.
I sighed.
"Look, we’ll keep our towels on. You take one side, I’ll take the other, no funny business."
Bakugo narrowed her eyes, as if assessing whether I was about to mess with her.
I wasn’t.
I was too fucking tired to deal with this.
Finally, she let out a huff, rolling her shoulders before grabbing a towel.
"Fine. But if you even think about peeking or your towel just so happens to slip, I will blow your face off."
"Noted."
Miriko smirked as she watched us reluctantly step toward the water.
"See? That wasn’t so hard. Now hurry up—I’m getting in too."
Both Bakugo and I froze mid-step, snapping our heads back toward her.
"Wait—what?!" we said in unison.
Miriko grinned wickedly, already untying her kimono sash.
"What? You thought I’d let you two have all the fun?"
I had never seen Bakugo turn that red before in my life.
This internship was going to kill us.
