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In MHA, I Have A Pirated Version of Gojo's Limitless: 6 The Bakugo Family Dinner
🕑 Added 2025-06-28 20:43:16 +0000 UTCThe Bakugo family home was exactly what I'd expected and absolutely nothing like I'd prepared for.
From the outside, it looked like a standard middle-class Japanese house—neat, well-maintained, with a small garden that showed signs of either careful cultivation or explosive landscaping. Hard to tell which.
From the inside, it was a war zone.
"KATSUKI, GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE AND HELP SET THE TABLE!"
"I'M BUSY! HAG"
"BUSY DOING WHAT? STARING AT YOURSELF IN THE MIRROR?"
"SHUT UP!"
"YOU SHUT UP!"
Yep—loud, chaotic, and somehow warmer than it had any right to be.
"Masaru, come meet Rei!" Mitsuki called out as she ushered us through the front door. "You remember Akira's son?"
A mild-mannered man with glasses and ash-blonde hair appeared from what I assumed was the living room. He looked like a softer, more subdued version of Bakugo, if Bakugo had ever learned the meaning of indoor voice.
"Rei?" His face lit up with genuine surprise and joy. "My goodness, look how you've grown. We've missed you."
"Thank you, Mr. Bakugo," I said, bowing slightly. "I'm sorry I don't remember you."
"Please, none of that formal nonsense. You used to call me Uncle Masaru." He smiled warmly. "And don't worry about the memories. What matters is that you're safe."
"Dad, stop being weird," Bakugo muttered from behind us, though his usual explosive energy seemed muted in the presence of his parents.
"Katsuki, go wash your hands and help set the table," Mitsuki ordered, bustling toward the kitchen. "Akira, you sit down and relax. You look exhausted."
"I'm fine, really—"
"You're sitting," Mitsuki declared with the kind of authority that brooked no argument. "You've had enough stress for one day."
I found myself in the Bakugo family living room, surrounded by photo albums that Masaru had apparently been saving for just such an occasion. The walls were covered with pictures of Bakugo at various ages, from a surprisingly cute toddler to his current explosive teenage self.
"Here," Masaru said, opening an album and pointing to a picture. "This was taken at your fifth birthday party."
I leaned in to look. The photo showed two boys—one with spiky blonde hair and a cocky grin, the other with greyish dark hair and a gentler smile. They had their arms around each other's shoulders, both covered in what looked like cake frosting.
"That's me?" I asked, studying the boy's face. I had to say, it looked like me alright. What I would look like if I were younger.
"That's you," my mother confirmed, sitting down beside me. "You and Katsuki had gotten into a food fight. I was so embarrassed, but Mitsuki just laughed and said boys will be boys."
"Tch, He started it." Bakugo said from the doorway, his voice lacking its usual aggression.
"Huh?" I was stunned. “Come again. You remember this?”
“I don't remember Extras," His arrogant voice came through.
"..."
“That's his way of saying the pictures ring a bell.” Mr. Masaru added.
I looked at the photo again, trying to find some spark of recognition.
"You two were inseparable," Masaru said softly, turning the page to reveal more photos. "Always getting into trouble together. Rei here was the only one who could convince Katsuki to apologize when he broke something."
I looked at another photo—this one showing multiple boys behind two opposing heaps of snow, throwing snowballs at each other and yelling wildly as if at war.
Leading one side was Bakugo, and the other, my alternate self. On Bakugo's side was also a green head whose identity I could accurately guess.
Midoriya, Izuku.
"We had snow fights?" I asked.
"Every winter," Mitsuki called from the kitchen. "You and the neighborhood kids would spend hours out there, planning elaborate snow battles as heroes and villains. Rei, you always insisted on building escape routes and backup plans. Your group winning almost every time."
"Impossible!"
Katsuki yelled immediately. "How could I not win against a Quirkless loser?"
"Because in the face of my superior intellect, planning and observation skills, your little sparks at that age probably gave you no advantage whatsoever."
I jabbed nonchalantly.
It was satisfying knowing that despite being Quirkless, my alternate self wasn't inferior to a popular anime shounen character.
Just hoping that he disappeared before Bakugo's explosions got really scary and the blond got payback. Then with me here continuing the cycle, it would be a flawless win record.
No, I am not being narcissistic.
"From the sludge villain incident. Guess nothing's changed."
I finished.
BOOM!
Small Explosions erupted from Bakugo's hands constantly, the equivalent of human twitching as he gave me a glare that would probably do fatal damage if looks could kill.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing, nothing. Just that you're still obsessed with explosions."
"My explosions are awesome!"
"If you say so, sparky."
"STOP CALLING ME—"
"DINNER!" Mitsuki's voice cut through Bakugo's protest like a sword through paper.
The dining room was cozy, with a table that looked like it had seen a thousand family meals. Mitsuki had outdone herself—katsu curry, rice, miso soup, pickled vegetables, and what looked like enough food to feed a small army.
"Mitsuki, this is too much," my mother protested as we sat down.
"Nonsense," Mitsuki waved her off. "It's a celebration. Besides, growing boys need to eat."
I had to admit, the food was incredible. The katsu was perfectly crispy, the curry had just the right amount of spice, and after three weeks of convenience store meals and whatever I could scrounge up, it felt like heaven.
"Rei, I want to thank you personally. You know, for saving Bakugo despite not even remembering him."
"That? You don't need to thank me."
"Yes I do." Masaru said, settling into a chair and gesturing for me to do the same. "Mitsuki mentioned you saved Katsuki from a sludge villain. That's quite an accomplishment. Most pro heroes were having trouble with that one."
"I got lucky," I said, which was technically true. "Right place, right time, right quirk for the job."
"Either way, Thank you. And although he may not act like it, Katsuki is very grateful."
"GRATEFUL?!" The shout came immediately. "I WASN'T GRATEFUL! I WAS ANNOYED!"
"THEN WHY DID YOU SPEND THE LAST HOUR SEARCHING FOR HIS QUIRK ONLINE?" Mitsuki shot back.
Silence. Then: "SHUT UP, HAG!"
Masaru sighed. "He's been trying to figure out how your quirk works ever since he got home. I think you've become his new obsession."
"That's... concerning."
"Oh, it's terrible for him," Masaru agreed cheerfully. "But it's the most intellectually curious I've seen him in years. Usually, his problem-solving strategy involves explosions until the problem goes away."
"TO BE FAIR, EXPLOSIONS WORK MOST OF THE TIME!" Katsuki shot back.
"Not helping your case, son!"
"Moving on. Rei, what do you plan to do now?"
"Well .. Catch up probably. Maybe see if I can remember anything. Also, I want to get into U.A."
The Bakugo family paused.
"U.A.?"
I nodded, swallowing my food. "Yeah. I want to become a hero."
"NO!" Bakugo slammed his hands on the table, causing small explosions that rattled the dishes. "Absolutely not! I'm not having some random extra with a god complex showing up at MY school!"
"Extra? Your school?" I raised an eyebrow.
"UA," he said proudly. "I'm gonna be the first in my school to ever get in. And I'm gonna be the best student they've ever had."
"Hehe." I laughed. "You seem so certain about entry into the most prestigious school in the country that's nearly impossible to get into?"
"Nearly impossible for extras like you," Bakugo smirked. "I'm gonna ace the entrance exam."
"Huh." I considered this. "You know, with a quirk like mine, I probably could get in. Especially if I demonstrated the kind of real-world application I showed today..."
Bakugo's smirk vanished. "You wouldn't dare."
"I mean, I wasn't really considering it before, but now that you mention it..."
"I WILL END YOU!"
"Katsuki!" Mitsuki snapped. "Stop threatening our guest!"
"He's not a guest, he's a menace!"
"He's a hero who saved your life!"
"I didn't need—"
"Yes, you did!" Mitsuki's voice reached a volume that probably violated noise ordinances. "You were about to be turned into a meat puppet by a walking pile of snot, and this kid saved your ass! Show some gratitude!"
Bakugo opened his mouth to argue, then closed it, glaring at me like this was somehow my fault. Which, to be fair, it kind of was.
"This is ridiculous," he muttered finally. "Fine. Thanks for the save, I guess. But if you think that means I owe you anything—"
"I don't," I said. "But if you're going to UA, I might actually look into it. Sounds like a good place to figure out what I want to do with my life."
"OVER MY DEAD BODY!"
"Katsuki," Masaru said quietly, "perhaps you should consider that having a classmate who's already proven capable in real combat situations might be an asset rather than a threat."
"I don't need assets! I need to be the best!"
"That's a big goal," Masaru ignored his son's rantings thoughtfully.
If Mitsuki was a live wire and Katsuki was a hand grenade, this guy was a fire extinguisher—quietly competent and probably very good at cleaning up after disasters.
"U.A. has one of the most competitive entrance exams in the country."
"I'm aware. But I think I can handle it."
Bakugo snorted. "You think you can handle U.A.? Do you have any idea how hard it is to get in?"
"Harder than taking down a villain that had all the pros stumped?" I asked mildly.
His eye twitched. "That was luck."
"Was it though?"
"Boys," Mitsuki warned, "eat your dinner before it gets cold."
We ate in relative peace for a few minutes, but I could feel tension building. Bakugo kept glancing at me like he was trying to solve a complicated equation, and I could practically see the wheels turning in his head.
"Well Rei, If you're gonna get into UA. You'll have a lot of catching up to do. U.A has two exams. Both written and Practical. If you wanna get in, you'll need to do well on both, meaning you'll need to catch up on years of studying in ten months. The most important however is the practical exam. You'll need to be very familiar with the use of your quirk through lots of training."
"So what's your plan for training?" Mitsuki asked. "U.A.'s entrance exam is in ten months. That's not a lot of time to prepare."
"I'll figure something out. Maybe find a gym that can handle my strength levels, work on my technique with the rods."
Katsuki silently mulled something over. Finally, he put down his chopsticks and looked at me directly.
"You could train with me."
The table went quiet. Even Mitsuki stopped mid-chew to stare at her son.
"With you?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah!" Bakugo slammed his fists together, small explosions crackling between his palms. "Like you said, you took down that sludge villain."
His face cracked up to a wide, almost deranged looking grin.
"For me that means defeating beating you is my first actual step to becoming a Pro Hero. It's better than defeating All the other extras in school. Plus, I wanna see for myself just how tough you are. It'll be good to give you a beatdown."
I raised an eyebrow in amusement. "You, beat me?"
Then I turned back to eating my food. "You couldn't even beat that sludge monster."
"Hey! That was different. I was sneak attacked and didn't have time to prepare."
"That's what losers say."
"Why you!"
"Katsuki!" Mitsuki's voice carried a warning tone.
"It's alright, Mrs. Mitsuki," I called out before she could reprimand him. "Facts are, I was the one who beat the sludge monster. And you're pretty annoying too. If I used the same technique I did on it, you'd probably end up severely injured. Luckily, I don't even need to go all out to defeat you."
"Huh? What's that supposed to mean?"
I smiled in response. Then, placing my hand under the table, I raised it up completely.
The table felt light. Extremely light.
I could lift the whole thing with one hand—dishes, food, and all—like it weighed nothing more than a piece of paper. But judging from the looks on their faces, that was definitely a big deal.
Bowls rattled slightly, but nothing spilled. The entire table, laden with food and dishes, was suspended in the air by my single hand.
"What the hell..." Bakugo breathed, his eyes wide.
"Language," Masaru said automatically, but his voice was faint with shock.
I gently lowered the table back down, making sure everything settled properly before releasing it. "See? No explosions necessary."
"How..." my mother started, then stopped. "Rei, how strong are you?"
"I'm not entirely sure," I admitted. "I haven't really tested my limits yet. But I know I'm stronger than I look."
"That's..." Masaru adjusted his glasses, clearly trying to process what he'd just seen. "That's an incredibly powerful enhancement quirk."
"Enhancement quirk?" Bakugo leaned forward, his competitive instincts clearly overriding his shock. "So you're just really strong?"
"Among other things," I said vaguely. "The black rods are one application. The strength is another. There might be more, but I'm still figuring it out."
"Still figuring it out?" Mitsuki echoed. "Honey, quirks don't usually work that way. Most people know exactly what their abilities are from the moment they manifest."
"Yeah, well, most people don't wake up with amnesia and mysteriously enhanced abilities," I pointed out. "I'm kind of making this up as I go."
Bakugo was staring at me with an expression I couldn't quite read. "So when you said you didn't need to go all out..."
"I meant it." I met his gaze steadily. "The sludge villain was neutralized with a single black rod."
"What else can you do?" he asked, and there was something in his voice that reminded me of the excited boy in the photographs.
"Well, there's the barrier thing," I said, demonstrating by reaching for my water glass and letting my hand stop just short of touching it. "Nothing can touch me unless I let it."
"What? That's impossible."
"Is it?" I moved my hand closer to the glass until it looked like I was holding it, but there was still a microscopic gap between my skin and the surface. "Want to try hitting me?"
"Katsuki, no," Masaru said quickly.
"I'm not going to hurt him, Dad. I just want to see..." Bakugo reached out and tried to poke my shoulder. His finger stopped about an inch away, meeting invisible resistance. "What the hell?"
"Language," both parents said simultaneously.
"How does this even work?" Bakugo asked, trying to push harder. His finger wouldn't budge.
"Honestly? I have no idea. I just... decided it should work, and it does."
"That's not how quirks work," he insisted.
"Maybe not how normal quirks work," I said, shrugging. "But then again, I don't think I'm normal."
The room fell silent as everyone processed this. Finally, Mitsuki spoke up.
"Well," she said, her voice carefully neutral, "that certainly explains how you were able to take down that villain so easily."
