The first four years of my second life were, in a word, a waiting room.
Have you ever tried to explain the concept of fiscal responsibility to a toddler? You can't. Especially when you are the toddler. I spent most of my time watching my parents, Masaoka and Kurumi, work themselves to the bone for their construction company. Every time I saw a bill on the kitchen table, I felt a surge of that cold, oily Cursed Energy in my gut.
I learned two things very quickly. First, Cursed Energy is fueled by negative emotions. In a house where "Will we have enough for the mortgage?" was a common dinner topic, I had a steady supply. Second, my sister Ochaco was a literal ray of sunshine that tried to counteract my "gloom" with aggressive hugging.
Living with Ochaco was like being haunted by a very cheerful ghost. She was always there. If I was trying to meditate to control my energy, she was poking my nose. If I was pretending to be a normal kid playing with blocks, she was stealing the blue ones.
'Just wait,' I'd think, watching her drool on a stuffed bunny. 'Once the Quirk-clock hits four, I'm going to be the cool one.'
The big day arrived on our fourth birthday. My parents had scraped together enough for a small cake with "Happy Birthday Twins!" written in shaky icing.
"Okay, you two!" Dad said, holding up a shaky camera. "Blow out the candles!"
Ochaco didn't even wait for the song to finish. She blew so hard she got frosting on her nose, and then clapped her hands together.
Pop.
The cake didn't just sit there. It drifted. Then the plates drifted.
"Oh! Ochaco, look! You're doing it!" Mom shrieked.
My sister giggled, her tiny fingers touching together. "Everything is light, Mama! Look, Kanata! I'm a hero!"
I felt a click in my brain. The "Anti-Gravity System" was online. I reached for my juice box, and suddenly, the weight of the air around me felt... optional. I didn't even touch the box; it just bobbed into the air, following the motion of my hand.
"Me too!" I cheered, leaning into the 'excited kid' persona. "I can make things float too!"
A week later, we were at the Quirk Doctor's office.
"Well," the doctor said, looking at the charts. "It's a rare case of identical Quirks in twins. Both have 'Zero Gravity.' Ochaco activates hers through touch, while Kanata seems to be an emitter who can create a small field around himself."
I sat on the exam table, swinging my legs. 'Same Quirk, huh? If only you knew.'
I had tried to do more. I had tried to make things heavy—to crush things like I knew the technique was capable of. But every time I tried to "reverse" the energy, I got a splitting headache. It felt like trying to do long division in my head while riding a roller coaster.
To get "Gravity," I needed Positive Energy. And to get that, I had to multiply Cursed Energy by itself.
'Negative times negative equals positive,' I mused, staring at a poster of All Might. 'Sounds easy on paper. In practice? It feels like trying to breathe through my ears.'
I could feel the "Gravity" side of my power sitting behind a thick glass wall. It was there, but I couldn't touch it. I didn't have the "Reverse Cursed Technique" yet. I was just a kid who could float things—exactly like my sister.
"So we're the same?" Ochaco asked, grabbing my hand as we walked out.
"Guess so," I said with a shrug. "But I'm still gonna be the one who does the cool poses."
"No fair! I've been practicing my hero landing!"
I laughed. For now, being "The Gravity Twins" was enough. I was just a normal kid with a bubbly sister and a power that let me avoid walking when I felt lazy. The "crushing" part? The "healing" part? I figured I'd worry about that when I was older. Or, you know, when a giant villain was trying to eat me.
Whichever came first.