The iron beast descended again.
A harsh, violent whistle tore through the salty morning air, followed by the dull, heavy pressure of the blunt tungsten stopping just inches above the sand. Zoro didn't let it hit the ground this time. He forced his screaming core to absorb the massive kinetic energy of the swing, his bare toes digging so deeply into the wet beach that his feet were completely buried.
"Two," Zoro rasped, his voice barely a whisper, swallowed instantly by the sound of crashing waves.
Midoriya stood frozen beside the rusted refrigerator, his green eyes wide with a mixture of horror and awe. He had just watched a boy, no older than himself, blatantly disrespect the greatest hero in the world. He expected All Might to reprimand the stranger, or at least tell him to leave.
Instead, a massive, warm hand rested on Midoriya's shoulder.
"Let him be, Young Midoriya," All Might said. His voice was quiet now, completely devoid of its usual booming theatrics. The titan's blue eyes were fixed on Zoro's trembling, blood-stained hands. "He is walking a very dark, very narrow path. Do not let his presence distract you. Focus on your own mountain."
Midoriya swallowed hard. He looked at his own blistered palms, then at the thick rope tied around his chest. The stranger was breaking his own body just to swing a piece of metal. Midoriya felt a sudden, burning knot of shame in his stomach. If someone without a Quirk was willing to go through that much agony... what excuse did he have?
"Right!" Midoriya nodded, slapping his cheeks with both hands to wake himself up. He grabbed the rough rope, leaned forward, and dug his red sneakers into the sand. "Ahhhhh!"
The beach transformed into a bizarre, silent battleground. There were no villains, no explosions, and no flashy Quirks. It was just the sound of two boys waging a brutal war against their own human limitations.
Swoosh. Thud. Zoro's iron sliced the air.
Creak. Groan. Midoriya strained against the rusted safe.
Zoro's vision began to blur around the edges. Twenty-four... twenty-five... Every time he raised the iron beast, it felt as though invisible hooks were tearing the muscles away from his shoulder blades. The blisters on his palms had completely burst open, leaving raw, red flesh exposed to the rough, abrasive grip of the heavy weapon. Blood seeped through his white bandages, making the hilt slippery, which only forced him to grip it even harder, compounding the agony.
He was suffocating. The sea breeze was cool, but inside his chest, his lungs felt like they were filled with burning ash. His form was starting to break. On his thirty-second swing, as the iron came down, his left knee buckled inward slightly.
"Drive your weight through your heels, not your toes," a deep, resonant voice suddenly echoed across the sand.
Zoro paused, the iron slab hovering above the ground. He turned his head, his chest heaving violently. All Might was still standing by the truck, his arms crossed, his gaze sharp and analytical.
"You are leaking kinetic energy into the loose sand," the giant continued, his tone entirely pragmatic, like a seasoned general inspecting a soldier. "With a weapon of that density, if your foundation collapses, your spine will absorb the shock. Drop your hips. Anchor your heels."
Zoro's eyes narrowed into a dangerous glare. His pride screamed at him to ignore the giant, to tell him again to mind his own business. But the agonizing, sharp pain shooting up his lower back told him the man was absolutely right.
Zoro didn't say a word. He didn't nod, and he certainly didn't say thank you. But slowly, he adjusted his stance. He shifted his weight backward, dropping his center of gravity just an inch lower, planting his heels firmly into the wet earth.
He raised the iron beast and swung again.
Swoosh. The difference was immediate. The shockwave of the heavy swing flowed smoothly down his legs and into the earth, bypassing his vulnerable lower back. It was still agonizingly heavy, but the destructive recoil was gone.
A microscopic, knowing smirk touched the corner of All Might's mouth. Stubborn, but not foolish. He absorbs knowledge instantly.
Time bled away. The pale dawn surrendered to the bright, piercing light of the morning sun.
"Ninety-nine..." Zoro gasped, his voice cracking. "One... hundred..."
On the final swing, his fingers simply gave out. They uncurled completely against his will. The iron beast slipped from his bloody hands and crashed onto the beach, throwing a cloud of wet sand into the air.
Zoro dropped straight to his knees. The world spun violently. He couldn't feel his arms from the shoulders down. They hung limply at his sides like dead weight. He stared at the sand, a single drop of dark blood falling from his nose to the ground.
I need... to carry it back, his mind whispered, but his body absolutely refused to move.
Suddenly, a shadow fell over him, blocking the harsh morning sun.
Zoro forced his heavy head up. It wasn't the giant. It was the green-haired kid.
Midoriya was standing there, looking like he had just been dragged behind a moving train. He was covered in mud, rust, and sweat. He was panting heavily, but in his trembling, bruised hand, he held out a cheap, plastic bottle of water.
Zoro stared at the bottle. He looked up at Midoriya's face. The kid was visibly terrified of him, his legs shaking slightly, but he didn't pull the water away.
"Y-You're bleeding," Midoriya stammered, his voice nervous but genuine. "And... and you have to walk back, right? You should hydrate."
Zoro remained silent for a long, agonizing moment. Slowly, moving his numb arm felt like lifting a mountain, he reached out and took the bottle.
"Zoro," he rasped, struggling to unscrew the cap with his stiff, bloody fingers. "Roronoa Zoro."
Midoriya's face brightened just a fraction. "I'm Izuku Midoriya!"
Zoro finally managed to open the bottle. He didn't drink it all; he took three slow, measured gulps, letting the cool water soothe his burning throat. Then, he looked past Midoriya, staring at the massive pile of trash, and the giant standing quietly in the distance.
"You're aiming for the U.A. entrance exam," Zoro stated. It wasn't a question.
Midoriya stiffened, his eyes widening. "H-How did you know?"
Zoro slowly pushed himself up from the sand, his joints popping loudly. He walked over to his canvas backpack, glaring at it with pure hatred before he began the agonizing process of strapping the heavy iron sand to his back once more.
"Because I'm going to cut that exam down," Zoro said, leaning down to grab the hilt of his iron beast, hoisting it painfully onto his bruised shoulder. He turned his dark, intense eyes back to Midoriya. "With arms that weak, you'll die in there, Midoriya. But..."
Zoro glanced at the heavy refrigerator. He noticed that it had moved. Not much. Maybe just three feet. But it had moved.
"...your eyes aren't bad," Zoro finished.
Without another word, Zoro turned his back to them and began the long, brutal march back to the city, his bare feet leaving heavy, bloody prints in the sand.
Midoriya stood frozen, staring at Zoro's retreating back. His heart was pounding in his chest, a strange, electric feeling of rivalry sparking in his veins.
"Young Midoriya," All Might's voice brought him back to reality. The giant hero stepped up beside him, watching the swordsman disappear into the city streets. "Ten months. The exam is in exactly ten months. It seems... the competition for the top spot will be far more terrifying than I anticipated."