— Age 9 — The Garage —
The garage felt like a furnace. Summer air hung heavy. Reiji stood in front of the training bag. Gloves on. Breathing steady.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
He punched in tempo. Tight. Clean. Nothing wasted. His whole body moved like an engine.
Inhale. Exhale. Strike.
Then it happened.
A new rhythm.
Not his heartbeat. Like a second pulse.
He stopped.
The bag swung toward him.
He stepped in. Breath locked.
"Harder."
His fist moved, but something else hit with him.
"Better."
His shoulder snapped with perfect form—perfect balance. Like the motion had been corrected mid-swing.
"Faster."
The impact came before he finished stepping in.
"Stronger."
CRACK.
The bag exploded.
Fabric tore. Sand burst. The hook snapped. The whole rig slammed into the wall like a cannon hit it.
Dust. Silence.
Reiji stood, fist still forward. His body buzzed with something that wasn't his.
He turned.
It stood behind him.
Same height. Same stance. Chrome body. Smooth helmet. Lights across its chest blinked like sound levels.
It didn't speak.
Then it vanished.
Reiji blinked. His hand trembled. Then stilled. Then he smiled.
"Reiji?!"
Rika reached the garage first. Daigo followed close behind.
They both froze.
The bag lay in ruins. Sand spilled across the floor. The wall was cracked clean through. A steel hook twisted on the ground like wire.
Reiji stood in front of it. Breathing even. Hands still raised.
"I think I got my Quirk," he said.
Rika stepped forward cautiously. "Did it hurt?"
He shook his head. "No. It just... happened. It felt like something moved with me."
They stared at him. Waiting.
Rika crossed her arms. "Show us."
Reiji nodded. Stepped into stance. Inhale—steady.
"Harder."
He struck the air. A force burst forward, thudding what remained of the bag into the wall.
Daigo blinked. "That was a raw power boost. No windup."
"Better."
The second strike came tighter—sharper. It snapped with the sound of bone on bone. The wall quivered.
Rika narrowed her eyes. "That wasn't just strength. Your form adjusted mid-hit. Efficiency boost?"
"Faster."
His feet shifted. Too quick to follow. The next blow landed before the last echo had faded.
Daigo muttered, "Speed stack. He's layering them. Each command builds on the last."
"Stronger."
One final strike. The chain cracked again—this time at the top. The bolt in the ceiling split the beam.
Silence.
Rika looked stunned. "Same punch. Four versions. One layer at a time."
She crouched near the floor. "No glow. No aura. Just pure impact."
"Too clean," Daigo said. "Like something's correcting him in real-time."
Reiji sat down, legs stretched out, chest heaving. His shirt clung to him, soaked in sweat. His fingers shook.
Daigo crouched next to him. "That's enough for today."
"I'm fine," Reiji muttered.
But his breath caught. The room tilted.
His eyes shut.
Rika moved instantly, pressing a hand to his forehead. "He's overheated. Pulse is fast."
"He used his Quirk—twice," Daigo said. "His body's not built for that kind of output yet."
Daigo lifted him carefully. Reiji was light—slack with exhaustion. His head rested against Daigo's shoulder.
Rika moved ahead, pulled back the blanket, opened the bedroom door. Daigo laid him down gently.
Reiji didn't stir.
He was already out.
— That Evening — Dining Table —
The living room was dim, lights soft.
Reiji sat at the table, shoulders low but smiling faintly. A cold compress rested against his neck. Rika placed a bowl of rice in front of him, followed by grilled chicken.
"Eat slow," she said. "You overdid it."
Daigo sat across from him, arms crossed, smirking. "You nearly cracked the damn foundation. Thought you were testing one word at a time?"
Reiji took a bite, swallowed, then answered. "It felt right. Like each one fit. One made the next stronger."
Daigo chuckled. "So you stacked the whole combo."
Rika raised an eyebrow. "Harder. Better. Faster. Stronger."
She looked at Daigo. He nodded once.
"Each one's a specific boost," he said. "Power. Precision. Speed. Density."
"It's subtle," Rika added. "But advanced. Controlled. And that's rare at his age."
Reiji kept eating, quiet but listening.
Rika's voice softened. "You know what this means, don't you?"
He nodded slowly. "I'm not… behind anymore."
Daigo leaned back. "No more teachers whispering. No more side-eyes from the neighbors."
Rika's jaw tightened a little. "No more wondering what's wrong with him."
The room went quiet.
Then Daigo grinned. "Our kid's got a Quirk. And it hits like a freight train."
Reiji's spoon dipped sideways. His head drooped. He was losing the fight with sleep.
Rika gently took the bowl from him. "Bed."
"I can—"
"You can barely sit," Daigo said, already standing.
Reiji didn't argue.
— Reiji's Bedroom —
He lay in bed, warm under the blanket. His arms still sore. Muscles still buzzing. TThe garage felt far away, but the rhythm stayed.
He raised his hand, just enough.
"Harder."
Nothing exploded. But he felt it. A slight tension. A silent echo.
It wasn't a dream.
He had a Quirk.
And for the first time in years, he didn't feel behind.
He smiled to himself in the dark, eyes already closing.
— Later That Night — Kitchen —
The hallway was dim. Reiji's room quiet behind the door.
Rika and Daigo stood in the kitchen. Two untouched glasses of water on the counter. Neither spoke.
Then the silence settled in.
No more waiting.
No more wondering.
No more fear that their son wouldn't keep up in a world.
Now Reiji had a Quirk.
Not just flashy.
Functional. Controlled. Real.
Rika exhaled softly. "If he keeps growing like this… he could make U.A."
Daigo nodded slowly. "Not General Studies. Hero Course."
She looked at him.
He smirked. "That's our kid."
They stood a little longer. Then turned off the lights.
[TL:-What did you think about the chapter?
Also—can you guess which artist or song inspired the stand?]