The days stretch like taffy, sweet and sticky, but with that underlying pull that threatens to snap if you tug too hard.
I'm three now, or close enough that the calendar doesn't matter much. My legs are steadier, carrying me through the house without as many tumbles, though I still pretend to wobble for Aiko's sake—she fusses less that way.
Kenji's hitting his strides too, toddling after me like a puppy with those chubby legs pumping. His white hair flops in his eyes, and he swipes at it impatiently, brown gaze locked on me as if I'm the center of his tiny universe.
"Sa-to! Catch!" he yells, hurling a soft ball my way. It arcs lazily, bouncing off my chest because I let it— no need to show off super reflexes yet.
I scoop it up, grinning. "Got it, bro! Your turn!"
I toss it back gently, infusing just a whisper of blue energy to make it float a bit longer, like a balloon losing helium. He jumps, snagging it with both hands, laughter bubbling out high and pure.
Aiko watches from the kitchen doorway, her hands on her hips, a fond smile crinkling her eyes. "You two are inseparable. Kenji, don't throw too hard—Satoru's still little too."
Kenji pouts, ball clutched to his chest. "No! Sa-to strong!"
She laughs, floating a juice box over to each of us with her telekinesis. It bobs through the air, landing perfectly in my lap. "Here, hydration for my little heroes. Papa will be home soon— he's got a short patrol today."
I sip the juice, the sweet apple tang hitting my tongue sharp and refreshing. Inside, though, that red hum pulses faintly, like a distant drumbeat echoing in my veins. It's been quieter since the playground, but I feel it waiting, coiling. *Chill out, red. We're playing ball, not battling demons.* The funny voice in my head quips back: *Yet.*
Hiroshi bursts through the door an hour later, his hero suit dusted with city grime but his grin as bright as ever. "I'm home! And look what I brought—souvenirs from the beat!"
He pulls out two small hero figurines from his pocket: one of All Might, mid-smash, and another of Endeavor, flames roaring. Kenji's eyes go wide, scrambling over to grab the All Might one.
"All Might! Smash!" he yells, punching the air with the toy.
Hiroshi chuckles, handing me the Endeavor. "For you, Satoru. Fiery spirit, just like your eyes sometimes."
I take it, turning it over in my hands. The plastic feels cool, detailed flames painted orange and red. *Endeavor, huh? Meta-knowledge says he's a jerk dad, but strong. Wonder if I could melt this with a slash...* I push the thought down, smiling up at him. "Thanks, Papa. Cool!"
Aiko joins us, wiping her hands on a towel. "How was patrol? Any excitement?"
Hiroshi sinks onto the couch, stretching his legs. "Nah, mostly traffic quirks gone wrong. One guy with speed boost crashed into a lamppost— my golden wall caught him just in time. No injuries."
She nods, relief softening her features. "Good. Dinner's almost ready. Boys, wash up?"
Kenji and I race to the bathroom—well, toddle-race—splashing water and giggling as soap bubbles float up. I catch one with Infinity subtly, making it hover longer before popping. Kenji stares, mesmerized. "Bubble fly!"
"Yeah, magic," I whisper, winking. He mimics the wink, one eye squinting comically.
Dinner's a feast: steaming rice, miso soup swirling with tofu cubes, grilled mackerel flaky and savory, veggies crisp under my teeth. Conversation flows around the table like a warm current.
"Pass the soy sauce?" Hiroshi asks, and Aiko floats it over without looking, her quirk humming faintly.
Kenji mimics her, waving his hand at his cup. "Float! Float!"
We laugh, but I watch closely— no energy from him yet. His quirk's slashes, nerfed. *Soon, maybe. I'll help you train it safe, bro.*
"Tell us a story, Papa," I say, spooning rice. "Hero one."
Hiroshi leans back, eyes twinkling. "Alright. Once, there was a villain with shadow tentacles—slimy things, grabbing everything. I threw up my wall, golden and unbreakable, and trapped him like a bug in a jar. Heroes win again!"
Kenji claps. "Wall! Gold!"
Aiko smiles. "And the moral is...?"
"Teamwork," Hiroshi says, winking at her. "Couldn't have done it without backup."
I nod along, but inside: *Shadows, huh? Like Tokoyami's, but villainous. System's broken—heroes overworked, villains desperate. I'll fix it. Dismantle the rot.*
After dinner, bath time. Aiko fills the tub, bubbles foaming up like clouds. Kenji splashes wildly, water flying everywhere.
"Easy, tiger!" she scolds lightly, using her quirk to redirect a splash back into the tub.
I sit calmer, scrubbing my arms. But as the warm water laps at my skin, the red stirs—hotter this time, like veins of fire threading through me.
*Not now,* I think, clenching my jaw. It ignores me, pulsing sharper.
"Satoru? You okay? Face is red," Aiko notices, brow furrowing.
"Fine, Mama. Warm water," I lie, forcing a smile.
She nods, but watches closer. Kenji distracts her by dunking a toy ship. "Sink! Glub glub!"
Bedtime rolls in soft and quiet. Hiroshi tucks Kenji first, the little guy clutching his All Might figure even in sleep.
"Night, champ," he whispers.
Then me. "Dream big, Satoru. You're gonna be something special—I can feel it."
I hug him tight. "Night, Papa."
Aiko lingers, singing a lullaby, her voice gentle as a breeze. "Sleep tight, my snowflake."
The door clicks shut, darkness wrapping the room like a blanket. Kenji's soft snores rhythm the quiet.
But peace shatters fast. The red erupts—fiercer than before, pain lancing through my chest like hot knives twisting.
I curl up, biting my pillow to muffle gasps. Visions slam in: extra arms sprouting, tattoos burning into skin, a shrine unfolding in crimson glory. Cleaves rip through air, blood spraying in arcs that taste metallic even in my mind.
*King,* the voice booms, deeper now, echoing in my skull. *Claim it. Destroy.*
Energy surges red, body convulsing. Markings flicker on my arms—black lines snaking, visible in the moonlight.
*No! Stop!* I scream internally, blue cursed energy flooding to counter. Six Eyes clamp down, optimizing the flow, cooling the fire.
But it fights vicious, slashing out. My hand twitches—a dismantle escapes, silent but deadly. The toy Endeavor on my nightstand shreds, plastic parting clean, flames scattering in bits.
Panic spikes. *Control it, damn it! This ain't playtime!*
The red laughs, mocking. *Weak vessel. Awaken fully.*
Blue pushes harder, Infinity wrapping me like a cocoon. The markings fade slowly, pain ebbing to a dull ache.
I lie there, sweat-soaked, staring at the ruined toy. *Sukuna. Definately him. Why embed in me? Gojo's powers weren't enough twist?*
Thrill creeps in despite fear. *Offense to match defense. If I harness... unstoppable.* But violent. Unpredictable.
Kenji stirs across the room. "Sa-to? Hurt?"
His voice, sleepy and concerned, cuts through. I whisper back. "Just dream, bro. Go sleep."
He mumbles okay, settling. *Can't let this touch him. Family safe.*
Morning light filters in. I hide the toy bits under my bed—blame it on dropping later.
Aiko notices my fatigue at breakfast. "Another bad night? You tossed a lot."
I nod, sipping milk. "Monsters again."
Hiroshi frowns. "Maybe see a doctor? Quirk manifestation stress?"
She agrees. "If it keeps up."
Kenji pushes his toast to me. "Eat! Strong!"
I ruffle his hair. "Thanks, bro."
Playtime after: building forts with blankets. Kenji directs like a boss. "Here! Wall!"
I reinforce it subtly with blue, making it sturdier. "Like Papa's?"
He nods. "Gold! But blue."
*Heh, perceptive.* The red hums low, but I ignore it, focusing on fun.
Lunch: sandwiches, chatter about weekend plans.
"Park tomorrow?" Aiko suggests.
"Yes!" Kenji cheers.
Hiroshi nods. "If no calls."
Afternoon nap: Kenji out, me practicing. Float myself higher—two inches now, steady.
Red test: micro-slash on a leaf from the window. Cuts precise.
*Balance. Key.*
Park outing next day: swings, slides. Kids quirk-play nearby.
One boy with wind gusts too strong—blows sand at us again.
Red twists angry. *Slash.*
But I barrier it blue, sand bouncing harmlessly.
Aiko praises. "Quick thinking, Satoru!"
Kenji high-fives me. "Hero!"
*Yeah. But villain side brewing.*
Home, dinner: cozy, stories.
"Villain with fire—blocked!" Hiroshi boasts.
Bed: lullabies.
Dark: red builds again, but milder. Visions tease, not overwhelm.
I suppress easier. *Learning. Soon, control.*
Kenji whispers. "Night, bro."
"Night."
Bonds tighten, fire veins pulse. Awakening nears.