The days after my third birthday blur into a haze of cake crumbs and lingering excitement.
But that red surge from the night before? It's not gone. It simmers low in my gut, like a pot left on the stove too long, bubbling just under the surface.
I wake up early, sunlight sneaking through the curtains like a thief. Kenji's already stirring in his crib across the room, his little fists waving in the air as he coos softly.
"Mama?" he mumbles, eyes blinking open. He's getting better at words, mimicking me like a tiny echo.
I sit up in my bed, rubbing my eyes. The torn blanket is hidden under my pillow—evidence of last night's slip. *Can't let them see that. They'd think a villain snuck in or something.* My heart races a bit, but I push it down. Focus, self.
Aiko pokes her head in, her dark hair tied back in a messy bun. "Good morning, my little snowflakes! Time for breakfast?"
She scoops Kenji up first, planting a kiss on his forehead. He giggles, grabbing at her shirt. Then she turns to me, smiling warmly. "And you, Satoru? Ready to start the day?"
I nod, toddling over to her leg and hugging it. "Yes, Mama. Hungry."
My words are clearer now, sentences forming without much effort. But I keep them short, innocent. No need to drop full essays yet.
She laughs, lifting me up with her telekinesis—a gentle float that makes me feel like I'm on a cloud. "You're talking so much these days! Papa will be proud."
We head to the kitchen, where Hiroshi is already at the table, sipping coffee and reading the morning paper. His hero suit hangs on the chair, golden emblem gleaming.
"Morning, family!" he booms, folding the paper. "Big day ahead. Patrols are ramping up—some villain sightings near the docks."
Aiko sets us down, Kenji in his high chair and me in my booster seat. She floats bowls of porridge over, steam rising with that sweet, milky scent.
"Be careful out there, Hiroshi," she says, worry creasing her brow. "I heard on the news about that acid guy again. He's still loose?"
Hiroshi waves it off with a grin. "Nah, we got him last time. My wall held strong. Besides, Absolute Wall doesn't crack easy."
He winks at me. "Right, Satoru? You'd make a great hero someday with eyes like yours."
I spoon my porridge, pretending to focus on the mushy bits. "Hero like Papa?"
He chuckles, ruffling my white hair. It springs back up defiantly. "Exactly! And Kenji too. We'll have a whole Gojo hero family."
Kenji bangs his spoon, splattering porridge. "Papa! Hero!"
Aiko smiles, but her eyes dart to Hiroshi. "Just promise you'll come home safe. The boys need their dad."
He leans over, kissing her cheek. "Always do, love. Now, eat up, kids. Growing heroes need fuel."
Breakfast drags on with more chatter. Hiroshi tells a quick story about stopping a purse snatcher yesterday—his barrier trapping the guy like a golden cage.
"And then, whoosh! Police take him away. Easy peasy."
I listen, nodding along. Inside, meta-knowledge ticks: *Villains are getting bolder. This is the buildup to the League's era. Dad's strong, but top 50? Cannon fodder in the wars to come.*
After he leaves for work, waving from the door, Aiko clears the table with her quirk, dishes floating to the sink.
"Playtime, boys?" she asks, settling on the floor with us.
Kenji crawls over, grabbing a toy car. "Vroom!"
I join, pushing blocks around. But that red hum? It's building again, a low vibration in my chest.
"Satoru, want to build a tower?" Aiko suggests, stacking blocks with her telekinesis.
"Sure, Mama." I add one carefully, infusing a tiny bit of blue energy to steady it. Invisible, but it holds firm.
Kenji knocks it over, laughing. "Boom!"
Aiko claps. "Again! You're both so clever."
We rebuild, chatting nonsense. "What color next, Satoru?"
"Blue," I say, pointing. Like my eyes. Like Limitless.
The morning passes like that—simple, warm. But by lunch, the red twists harder, like a knot tightening.
I feel it during naptime. Kenji's out cold in his crib, soft snores filling the room.
I lie there, staring at the ceiling. *Control it. It's just energy. Harness it.*
But pushing blue to suppress? The red fights back, hot and angry.
Pain spikes—sharp, like needles in my skin. I gasp, curling up.
Visions hit: not dreams, but flashes. Four arms slashing, blood arcing in sprays that splatter warm and sticky. Laughter bubbles—deep, mocking.
*Mine,* it whispers. *Ours.*
I bite my lip, tasting copper. No crying out. Aiko's in the next room.
Energy surges red, uncontrolled. My hand twitches—a slash unintentional, cutting the air silently.
The curtain flutters, a thin tear appearing. No sound, just fabric parting clean.
*What the—? Dismantle again?* Panic rises. *Stop it!*
I focus Six Eyes, clamping down. Blue floods in, cooling the red like water on fire.
It recedes, leaving me panting, sweaty. *That was close. Too close.*
But thrill mixes in. *Power. Raw, violent power. If I can control this...*
Afternoon brings more family time. Aiko takes us to the park, pushing Kenji's stroller while I toddle beside.
"Look at the swings, Satoru! Want a push?"
"Yes, please!" I climb on, gripping chains tight.
She pushes gently, her quirk adding a floaty boost. Wind rushes past, hair whipping.
Kenji claps from the stroller. "Go, Sa-to!"
Higher I swing, that red hum quiet for now. But eyes tingle—Six Eyes spotting quirk energies everywhere.
A kid nearby sparks tiny fires from fingers, showing off to friends.
"Cool quirk!" one says.
"Mine manifests soon," another boasts.
I watch, swinging. *Quirks. Flashy, but limited. Mine's endless.*
Aiko chats with other moms. "Satoru's eyes are so unique. Maybe his quirk's visual?"
They nod. "He's adorable! That hair!"
Back home, dinner prep. Hiroshi returns early, unscathed.
"Home safe!" he announces, hugging Aiko.
She sighs in relief. "Good. Dinner's almost ready."
We eat—rice, fish, veggies. Conversation flows.
"How was patrol, Papa?" I ask, spearing a carrot.
"Busy, but good. Stopped a quirk thief—guy trying to copy powers. My wall blocked him cold."
Aiko frowns. "Quirk thief? That's scary."
Hiroshi shrugs. "Rare, but yeah. Heroes handle it."
Kenji mimics. "Wall! Boom!"
We laugh. But inside: *All For One's network. It's starting.*
Bedtime story follows. Hiroshi tucks us in, voice rumbling.
"Once upon a time, a hero with unbreakable shields saved the city..."
I listen, Kenji dozing off midway.
"...and they lived happily ever after."
He kisses our foreheads. "Night, sons."
Aiko lingers. "Sweet dreams, my loves."
Alone in the dark, the red returns. Stronger.
Pain builds slow, then explodes—gut-wrenching, like being torn apart.
I writhe, silent screams. Visions overwhelm: tattoos etching skin, extra eyes opening, a domain unfolding—shrine of malevolence, cleaving everything.
*King,* it roars. *Awaken.*
Energy erupts red, body convulsing. Markings flicker on my arms—faint, black lines.
I panic, blue surging to hide them. Slash escapes—bedpost nicks, wood splintering quietly.
*No! Control!*
Six Eyes focus, pulling red back. It fights, vicious, but I win—barely.
Markings fade. Pain ebbs.
I lie there, exhausted. *Sukuna. That's it. Ryomen Sukuna's power. Why me? Gojo wasn't enough?*
Memories from old manga flood: King of Curses, incarnated destroyer.
*Two sets? Jackpot or curse?* Funny voice quips: *Definately a plot twist. Truck-kun's got jokes.*
But fear mixes with greed. *Harness it. Blue defense, red offense. Unbeatable.*
Test small: focus red, slash a thread from my sheet. Cuts precise, clean.
*Yes. But violent. Hide it deep.*
Kenji stirs. "Sa-to? Okay?"
I whisper. "Yeah, bro. Sleep."
He settles. Protectiveness surges. *This power—for them. For fixing everything.*
Morning comes. Aiko notices my pale face. "You look tired, sweetie. Bad dream?"
I nod. "Little one."
She hugs me. "It's okay. Mama's here."
Breakfast banter lightens it.
"More patrols today?" Aiko asks Hiroshi.
"Yeah, but short. Home by lunch."
Kenji babbles. "Papa home!"
I smile. *Family first. Powers second.*
But inside, plans brew. *Train both. Balance. Age four soon—Sukuna awakens fully then?*
Park again afternoon. I practice subtly—Infinity on swing, red micro-slash on fallen leaf.
No one notices.
Home, Aiko reads to us. "The hero jumped high!"
"Like flying?" I ask.
She nods. "Maybe you'll fly someday."
*Heh, levitation's coming.*
Dinner: more stories.
"Villains beware!" Hiroshi jokes.
Bedtime: calm.
But in dark, red whispers. *Soon.*
I push back. *My terms.*
Awakening fractures, but I'm piecing it together.