Father Worries

The living room, dimly lit. Aiko sits on the couch folding laundry, while Daichi (Karasuma) stands near the window, holding a mug of tea. He's quiet, watching the night through the glass, clearly deep in thought.

"You've been standing there for ten minutes. Something on your mind?" Aiko glanced up towards his husband

Daichi takes a slow sip, still looking out

"I caught Shin writing in that notebook again. He thinks I didn't see him… but he's got this whole plan—diagrams, training logs, costume sketches… kid's only four, Aiko."

Aiko smiles softly toward his husband

"You say that like he's not your son. You were fixing broken appliances and drawing blueprints when you were what—five?"

"Yeah, but I wasn't talking about being the number one hero."

Daichi turns toward her, voice lower

He said…

""I want to be the strongest. Stronger than All Might." And not like a kid daydreaming. He meant it. Like he knows what it'll take. Like he's already carrying something heavy."

Aiko while she is folding a shirt, thoughtful

"Maybe he is. That quirk awakening wasn't normal. Two types? At that intensity? He probably feels it too—even if he doesn't understand it fully."

"He's not just training. He's calculating. He wakes up before sunrise. He hides his notes. He's pushing himself like he's on a deadline." Daichi said

Aiko ask " You think it's dangerous?"

"Not yet. But I worry what happens if he burns out… or worse, if he gets hurt chasing something that big. He's just a little kid. He should be playing, getting scraped knees, pretending to fly—not mapping out a path to U.A. like it's life or death."

Aiko quiet for a moment, then sets the folded clothes aside

"He's not normal, Daichi. Not because of his quirk—but because of who he is. I've seen it in his eyes. Like he's already lived through something. Like he's been waiting for this chance his whole life."

Daichi sits beside her, voice softer

"You ever get that feeling… like maybe he came here for something bigger than we understand?"

"All the time dear." she said gently

he nods slowly

"Then we do what we can. We support him. We guide him. And when the time comes, we make sure he never feels alone in this."

"And we love him. Even when he thinks he has to carry the world."

Daichi smirks a little

"I'm guessing you're not gonna make him stop sneaking out to train?"

"Only if you stop sneaking out to watch him." Aiko said

They both laugh quietly. Daichi leans back, the worry still there—but now steadied by love and resolve.

******

2 days later

The world still slept when Shin opened his eyes.

The faint hum of the fridge and the distant ticking of the wall clock were his only companions. He lay still for a moment, listening for movement. Nothing. The house remained wrapped in the calm of early morning, his parents lost in dreams.

'Perfect.' Shin thought

He slipped out of bed with practiced ease, his feet already knowing where to land to avoid the creaky parts of the floor. A small backpack waited under his desk, packed with a jump rope, two weighted water bottles, and a thin, beat-up notebook with "Project Thunder King" etched across the cover in bold, uneven letters. His hands sparked once as he grabbed it, but the glow faded quickly. Controlled. Almost.

Shin wasn't a normal four-year-old. Not anymore. Not since the lightning. Not since the strength.

Not since he remembered who he used to be

And he wouldn't waste it.

He padded silently through the hallway, pausing only once to peek at the cracked door to his parents' room. His dad shifted in his sleep. His mom let out a soft sigh.

He smiled faintly.

Then he was gone.

---

The backyard was cool, dew-kissed, and half-shadowed by the rising moon. He'd set up his "training zone" in the far corner behind the old shed—where the neighbors couldn't see, and where his parents rarely bothered to check.

He dropped his bag and knelt on the grass, opening the notebook. Several pages had crayon diagrams: punch angles, energy control paths, endurance challenges. Today's entry was circled three times in red marker.

Day 21: Lightning Output Control – Short Burst Training

He stood up and took a deep breath, feeling the pressure in his chest. Not nerves. Not fear. Voltage.

He raised his hand and aimed at the old tree stump ahead.

"Flick it. Don't blast," he muttered to himself.

He tapped his thumb and middle finger together—then snapped.

CRACK!

A jolt of blue-white lightning arced forward, singeing the air and slapping the stump hard enough to make it smoke. He grinned, adrenaline buzzing.

"Again."

Snap.

CRACK!

Snap.

Fizzle…

His fingers tingled, muscles sore, arms shaky. Still, he kept going. Dozens of snaps. Dozens of tests. Each one a little better, a little cleaner.

The strength side came next. He ran sprints. Did frog jumps. Used the jump rope until his legs wobbled and sweat clung to his hair. Every time his muscles screamed, he told them to shut up. Because every second was a step closer to that dream.

To be the strongest ever

To the top.

When the sun finally peeked over the rooftops, Shin collapsed on the grass, panting, sparks dancing softly along his arms. He stared up at the brightening sky, chest rising and falling, smile tugging at his lips.

Nobody knew what he was doing. Not yet.

Not his mom. Not his dad.

But one day…

One day, the whole world would know his name.

******

His arms finally stopped sparking. The electricity settled into a soft buzz beneath his skin, like a quiet reminder of what he carried. He lay there in the grass, eyes squinting against the morning light, letting the wind cool the sweat on his face.

And then, as it often did when he was alone, the thought crept back in.

"This is my new life now isn't huh. it's hard to believe I'm in anime world especially this world. Full of danger, full of hidden villain."

He exhaled slowly, eyes locked on the sky. It still felt surreal.

All Might. Izuku Midoriya. UA High. The League of Villains. Shigaraki. All For One.

They weren't fiction anymore. They were out there. Somewhere. Living, moving, changing the world—just like they had in the story. But this time… things weren't exactly the same. He wasn't supposed to be here. A kid with memories from another world, born with a rare combo quirk that didn't exist in the original plot.

Arclight. That is his quirk. A wild card.

A ripple. And that ripple… could crash hard.

Shin frowned slightly, recalling the key arcs—the U.S.J. attack, the Hosu Nomu incident, Kamino ward, the war. He knew what was coming. He knew the pain. The deaths. The betrayals. The heavy weight of hero society fracturing at the seams. And above all… the rise of him.

All For One.

I can't just be a bystander, he thought. I won't.

He clenched his small fists, sparks returning just for a second.

If I'm here, it has to mean something. Maybe I can change things. Maybe I can save the ones who weren't meant to be saved. Maybe… I can be strong enough to stop what's coming.

Even if I'm not Deku… even if I'm not in the story yet... I'll write my own chapter.

His heartbeat slowed, steady and sure.

Shin wasn't just going to become the strongest hero for fame or pride.

He was going to change fate.

One punch. One spark. One page at a time.

That was the thought that fired him up.

Right up until the next one.

...Thunder King.

Shin winced.

He sat up slowly, brushing bits of grass from his arms and legs, and let out a groan that felt way too dramatic for a kid his age.

"Ugh. Thunder King?" he muttered aloud, dragging his hands down his face. "That's not a hero name. That's a pro wrestler from the 1980s."

He flopped back onto the grass with a sigh, staring at the sky like it had personally failed him.

"What was I thinking? Thunder King? Volt Blade? Static Shockwave?" He cringed at every single one, replaying them in his head like cursed echoes from a middle school notebook.

"Cool in theory. But man, imagine Aizawa saying that with a straight face. 'Thunder King, your quirk's unstable.' No. Nope. I'd retire on the spot." he thought while laughing internally

He sat up again and pulled his notebook from the backpack beside him, flipping through the pages until he found the one titled "Hero Name Concepts – Totally Not Final." It was a chaotic list of crossed-out names, circled question marks, and one particularly dramatic sketch of him posing mid-air with a bolt of lightning behind him.

"Okay," he whispered to himself, grabbing a pencil stub from the binding. "Let's be honest this time. What makes a good hero name?"

He jotted quickly:

Easy to say

Sounds powerful

Feels like me

Not cringe (!!!)

No weird weather puns

He tapped the paper, thinking hard.

What defines me? Lightning. Strength. Control. Strategy. I'm not a brute. I'm not a storm. I'm a fuse—controlled chaos. Potential waiting to explode.

And then a thought hit him.

He scribbled down two new options:

– Fuse

– Arcborn

He stared at them, frowning thoughtfully.

"Still sounds a bit like an indie metal band…"

A pause.

Then, he grinned.

But not as wide as before. This was smaller. Focused. The smile of someone who knew the world was big and dangerous—and he was still figuring himself out in it.

"Alright," he said to the paper. "Maybe not Thunder King. But I'll earn whatever name I choose. And when I do…"

He closed the notebook gently, the page still open.

"…they'll remember it."

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