In MHA, I Have A Pirated Version of Gojo's Limitless: 29 Four Months Later 1

Location: Everblue Studio HQ, 7:52 a.m., Five Days After the Book Launch

POV: Aya Hoshino (Lead Project Manager, Everblue)

The first ping came before her alarm.

Aya groaned, buried under a tangle of sheets, before fumbling for her phone with sleep-numbed fingers. She blinked at the screen.

[6:03 a.m. — Yuuki: "You up???"]

[6:04 a.m. — Yuuki: "Check HeroX. Midnight. RIGHT NOW."]

She sat up straight, cold air brushing her skin. Her heart picked up before she even knew why. She unlocked her screen and opened HeroX, expecting some vague gesture. A like. A retweet. A comment.

What she saw was the full post. Midnight’s verified account — followed by millions — with a profile picture too sharp for this early hour and a message so clear it burned through the fog in her head:

> @MidnightReal

“Didn’t think I’d enjoy this. Was wrong. Surprisingly thoughtful. Grounded. Feels like someone gets it.

The Last Airbender — Ch. 1–3 now up on Everblue’s site. I’ll be reading the rest. You probably should too.”

A link.

Just a link.

Aya froze. Then she looked again.

Then she screamed.

Within moments, Everblue's Slack workspace erupted in chaos.

---

8:04 a.m. — Everblue Studio Slack Channel: #analytics-war-room

Yuuki:

> WE SPIKED 10K IN 90 MINUTES

WHERE IS EVERYONE

WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP

Hana (Tech Lead):

> I’m here

Site’s still stable. Throttling image loads to be safe.

Chika (Design):

> Are we trending???

IS THIS HAPPENING??

Aya:

> Breathe.

Everyone breathe.

Okay. I'm pulling metrics. Hold.

---

She scrambled out of bed, half-dressed and fully awake, coffee cup forgotten on her desk as she fired up her monitor. Stats poured in:

Unique Visits: 13,429 since 6:00 a.m.

Reads of Chapter 1: 11,802

Click-throughs to Chapter 2: 10,097

Chapter 3 Completion Rate: 93.4%

New Follows/Subscribers: 3,112 and climbing

Most Common Referral Source: HeroX (94%) — Midnight’s Post

Aya’s jaw tightened.

> This isn’t just a bump. This is a seismic shift.

People weren’t just clicking — they were reading. Staying. Sharing. Some even digging through the author’s profile for anything else posted.

She checked the site comments.

> “Wait this is actually incredible?”

“Midnight was RIGHT.”

“Is this original fiction or fanfic? It doesn’t even read like fanfic.”

“Someone give this author a Quirked pen and a contract.”

A second notification buzzed from their email system.

> Subject: Media Inquiry – HeroWatch.net

“Hi Everblue, we saw Midnight’s post and wanted to ask—could we get an interview with the author? Or a studio rep? We’d love to do a spotlight on the project and its origins.”

Another ping. Then three more. Then six.

Aya grinned, heart pounding, as she typed into Slack:

Aya:

> We’re not trending yet. But we’re boiling.

Full green light. Accelerate rollout schedule.

I want Chapter 4 prepped and polished in twelve hours.

Also… someone get me a media kit. We need to look like we knew this would happen all along.

---

9:13 a.m. — Studio Conference Room, Everblue HQ

They gathered around the whiteboard, cluttered in mismatched hoodies and pajamas, half-eaten pastries scattered across the table.

Aya stood at the front, eyes bright.

“Okay. Midnight just gave us a platform. Not a deal. Not a feature. Just… attention. That’s all.”

She pointed at the board.

“Our job now is to earn it.”

She clicked to the next slide. A projection curve they'd only dared theorize about last week.

"Let’s make sure they remember our name before they even finish Chapter Five."

____

The Ember Becomes a Flame

Everblue had been here before.

Aya though she knew better than to expect that big of a detonation. Books didn’t work like Pro Hero exposés or scandalous livestreams. Novels were quiet things—timid beasts that crept through corners of culture before, occasionally, catching fire.

Even one as good as this one.

But that all changed drastically after getting the official greenlight from a famous pro hero. In the country of Japan, the Highest form of endorsement for any product, was simply to get the compliment of All Might himself. That alone was enough to make the country stop working for a day. Of course that was nearly impossible.

All Might had almost never done such a thing. Once was a polite accident, and the end result made sure he made sure to be tight-lipped to avoid such scenarios happening again.

Even the Top Ten Heroes rarely did so. Some not at all.

Hence, one had to move to the next best thing. Endorsement of famous Pros.

The numbers had begun to snowball by Friday.

Midnight's tweet had thrown a match on dry kindling. By the weekend, *Avatar: The Last Airbender* was trending across Everblue's platform, breaking their all-time first-week reader record by 230%.

What surprised the analytics team wasn't just the surge—it was the retention. Web novel releases typically dropped off sharply after the first chapter. Not here. They were seeing re-reads, users looping back to earlier scenes, entire forum threads analyzing individual characters and lore.

The first whispers appeared on BookTok and reader blogs:

> "Okay, so I thought this was another Quirkless AU but... it's not. The writing?? The worldbuilding?? Who even is K.T.R.T???"

> "I'm mad. I stayed up all night reading. No one told me I'd cry in chapter four."

> "This world has no Quirks, but everything in it feels real. Like it's a mirror of ours, just... stylized."

By Wednesday, BookTubers began uploading full-length essays. A fan edit of "The Boy in the Iceberg" with orchestral music, posted by a Filipino teenager on TikTok, reached 1.2 million views in two days.

Aya barely slept that weekend, watching the metrics climb.

There were still plenty of skeptics. Some thought it was an off-brand nostalgia bait. Others assumed it was a serialized memoir from an underground Vigilante. But the readership kept growing.

---

Soon, Everblue made their next move.

They doubled the chapter release schedule and updated the homepage to feature Avatar prominently. Official character visuals for Aang, Katara, and Zuko were released. Short motion-trail animations went live on their YouTube page.

A limited run of early concept sketches was bundled as downloadable extras for readers who reached Chapter Six.

And then came the interviews.

Everblue declined most of them. No, K.T.R.T would not be appearing live. Yes, they were under contract. No, their identity was not public.

But scarcity breeds intrigue.

One anonymous author. One strangely immersive fantasy. No powers. No capes. Just tribes, war, family, and a 12-year-old boy who smiled like he’d never known hate.

It was a storm in the making.

The servers crashed twice from traffic spikes. Not that anyone on the board was complaining.

School teachers on EduNet began sharing lesson plans adapted from the book's themes—colonialism, pacifism, moral ambiguity. Digital artists uploaded fan-made posters and animatics. A Vietnamese light novel reviewer's YouTube breakdown on the Water Tribe's cultural layering reached Everblue HQ. Aya forwarded it to the team with one line:

> "We're going global."

International offers flooded in: Korean, Chinese, and Vietnamese publishers requesting translation rights. Thailand and the Philippines were already running bootleg translations. Aya told Legal to let it ride—free marketing.

There were no more empty moments at Everblue.

They had added two new support editors just to keep up with the incoming translation offers.

One viral tweet captured the momentum:

> "The Fire Nation invaded my peace of mind. Finished Avatar: The Last Airbender in 3 days. I am broken. @EverbluePub, please explain yourselves."

1.2 million likes. 200,000 retweets. #WaterTribe was trending by dawn.

---

Days passed.

The Hype went on.

Entire threads on forums and microblogs analyzing individual characters and lore. Some readers stayed up overnight combing through chapters for foreshadowing and clues, comparing it to real-world wartime psychology and Quirk suppression allegories.

The impact wasn't just statistical.

BookTubers and Literature TikTokers began picking it up by the end of the first week. Dramatic readings. Character alignment charts. Speculative theories. Fan edits of Katara staring into the sunset set to melancholy Pro Hero theme songs. One viral post juxtaposed the Avatar’s world with pre-quirk society textbooks used in Hero Academies — sparking a storm of debate about "the cost of power" and "legacy vs. strength."

It wasn’t just the readers anymore.

High schools began discussing the book in Literature electives.

University forums invited open discourse on “Mythology and Archetypes in Postmodern Fantasy.” Quirk History professors added it to reading lists, calling it “a fascinating comparative cultural text.” The phrase “Avatar Syndrome” started floating around among psych students—referring to characters bearing the burden of societal expectations at young ages.

And then came the Heroes.

A well-respected retired Pro Hero posted a long-form essay titled:

> “The Avatar and the Burden of Symbolism — Why Power Isn’t Always the Answer.”

In it, he compared the Avatar’s role to the public weight carried by All Might, and the emotional collapse that followed when the public leaned too heavily on a symbol.

Other Pro Heroes, current and former, began casually referencing the book on streams and interviews. Some read scenes aloud. A few started recommending it to their students — unofficially, of course.

Mt. Lady uploaded a reaction video (and some suspiciously well-lit selfies).

The underground Pro Hero, Eraserhead, shockingly made a public appearance and commented in his signature dry tone.

> "Didn't think I'd care. Now I've lost two nights of sleep. Thanks for that."

---

Merchandise mockups were already in development — minimalist posters, quote stickers, character silhouettes. Everblue’s legal department filed trademarks on the Avatar title variants for their publishing label. Talks of animated adaptation rights began — quietly, cautiously, but definitely.

More importantly, the novel had pierced the noise of daily culture.

One boy in a Quirkless middle school was interviewed on a local news channel after writing a moving essay on how Avatar: The Last Airbender made him feel seen.

Another viral clip showed a first-year Hero student at Shiketsu laughing while sparring, muttering "That’s such a Zuko move!"

---

More Time Passed.

Everblue announced it in a digital press event, streamed live on six platforms.

> “Due to overwhelming demand, ‘Avatar: The Last Airbender’ will be receiving its first limited-edition hardcover release on the 1st of next month, featuring Chapters 1–10 and exclusive commentary from the author ‘K.T.R.T.’”

Pre-orders sold out in nineteen minutes.

Bookstores—yes, real bookstores—scrambled to get reorders.

Fan animators circulated concept trailers—one minute-long video hit over a million plays.

Aya Hoshino—now promoted to Head Editor of Digital Originals—sat in the boardroom as licensing executives debated which animation studio to prioritize: Sunrise or Studio Palette?

___

EVERBLUE LITERARY PRESS, FOUR MONTHS TILL U.A

The Everblue office had transformed into something resembling a war room. Empty coffee cups littered every surface, and half the staff looked like they'd been sleeping under their desks—which, honestly, some of them had been.

Aya stood before the main monitor, watching numbers that would have seemed impossible just a month ago.

"Read this," Yuuki said, sliding his tablet across the conference table. His voice carried that particular exhaustion that came from staying up too late reading comment threads.

Aya glanced at the screen. It was a forum post from BookMaker, one of the larger reading communities:

> **Thread: Avatar Discussion - Is K.T.R.T Actually a Pro Hero?**

>

> *AirNomad_Forever*: "Okay hear me out. The combat scenes are too realistic. The way Zuko moves, the firebending forms—someone who wrote this KNOWS martial arts. Like, actually knows it."

>

> *WaterTribe_Beast*: "Plus the emotional stuff? The way Zuko deals with his father? That's not amateur psychology. Someone who wrote this has SEEN that kind of trauma."

>

> *EarthKing_Bumi*: "My money's on Eraserhead. Think about it—underground hero, hates publicity, would absolutely use a pen name, and his Quirk literally erases powers. A story about a world with NO powers? Come on."

>

> *AllMight's Successor*: "You're all wrong. It's obviously Hawks. Man's too pretty and too smart not to be secretly writing novels."

"This is happening across every platform," Yuuki continued, scrolling through more comments. "They're not just reading—they're analyzing. Theorizing. Some kid in Osaka wrote a twenty-page essay comparing Fire Nation propaganda to real Hero Commission marketing."

Aya rubbed her temples. Success was supposed to feel better than this constant state of controlled panic.

"How are our servers holding up?"

"Miraculously," Hana called from her corner workstation, not looking up from her triple-monitor setup. "Though I had to upgrade our bandwidth twice this week. Not to mention, our legal team is having a field day."

### One Week Later - The Bookstore Window, Down Town Mustafu**

Ken stood outside Kinokuniya, staring through the glass display window. There it was—his book, his story, arranged in a neat stack with a small placard that read: "Staff Pick - The Fantasy Everyone's Talking About."

A woman with her teenage daughter walked up beside him, also examining the display.

"Is this the one Midnight recommended?" the daughter asked.

"I think so. Your teacher mentioned it too, didn't she?"

Ken's eyebrows shot up slightly. Teachers were recommending it?

"Yeah, Temari-sensei said it was actually educational. Something about 'examining conflict without the lens of Quirk society.'" The girl picked up a copy, flipping through the pages. "Looks like there's some action scenes though. Not just boring philosophy stuff."

Her mother smiled. "Well, if it keeps you reading something other than social media, I'm happy."

They headed to the register, and Ken found himself following at a distance, curiosity overwhelming caution.

The cashier—a guy maybe in his twenties with tired eyes and multiple ear piercings—scanned the book and grinned.

"Oh, another Avatar fan! This is like the tenth copy I've sold today."

"It's really that popular?" the mother asked.

"Lady, we can't keep it in stock. I've got people calling asking when our next shipment comes in. Haven't seen anything like it since the last All Might autobiography." He bagged the book carefully. "Fair warning though—everyone who reads it ends up staying up all night. Don't blame me when your daughter's dead tired tomorrow."

Ken walked away before he could hear the response, but he couldn't suppress the grin spreading across his face.

### **That Evening - Ken's Room**

"You're vibrating," his mother observed from the doorway.

Ken looked up from his laptop where he'd been refreshing forums and comment sections for the past hour. "I'm not vibrating."

"You've been pacing for ten minutes while staring at that screen. That's vibrating."

She sat on the edge of his bed, glancing at the display. "Still monitoring your success?"

"Did you know there are high schools using it in literature classes now?"

"I did not."

"And someone made a fan animation that got over two million views. Two million!" He turned the laptop toward her. "Look at this—they animated the scene where Aang goes into the Avatar State for the first time. The comments are all crying emojis."

Akira watched the short clip, impressed despite herself. The animation was surprisingly professional, with fluid movement and atmospheric music.

"That's... actually really good."

"Right?! And this is just fans doing this for free because they love the story." Ken scrolled down to read more comments aloud. "'This scene gives me chills every time.' 'Why is this better than half the Pro Hero documentaries on TV?' 'K.T.R.T needs to write more books immediately.'"

His mother studied his face. "You know, most authors would be doing interviews right now. Talk shows, hero podcasts. You could probably get a meeting with some pretty important people."

Ken's expression sobered slightly. "Yeah, but then everyone would know it's me. A junior high kid who's supposed to be focusing on getting into U.A."

"Is that what you want? To get into U.A.?"

The question hung in the air. Ken realized he hadn't thought about hero training, about U.A., about his supposed destiny in weeks. All his mental energy had been focused on this—on watching his story touch people's lives in ways he never expected.

"Dammit! I forgot all about Training."

---