Hikari sat in his dimly lit home, the shadows of the past few days hanging over him like a storm cloud. The twins, Kurata and Aoiro, lay in their crib, both silent, as if they too felt the weight of their mother's absence. Hikari watched them closely, the pain in his chest sharper than any blade.
He gently placed his hand on the side of the crib, remembering Mary's last words before the day of the labour. "We'll raise them well," she had whispered before entering the labor room. But now she was gone, and Hikari was left to carry that promise alone.
The twins' powers had shown the moment they were born—one child's skin flickering with traces of dark energy, while the other glowed faintly with a soft blue light. Kurata, the older of the two, had the aura of darkness, his black lightning crackling subtly when he moved. Aoiro, on the other hand, radiated a calm yet powerful blue lightning, a stark contrast to his brother.
Hikari's heart ached, but he knew that his sons were special. They carried the power that Mary and he had once dreamed of—powers that could change the world, and perhaps end the cruelty of slavery that had bound so many lives.
Over the next few months, Hikari poured himself into raising the boys. Every time Kurata's black lightning sparked, or Aoiro's blue glow illuminated their room, he felt both pride and sadness. He would teach them everything he knew, prepare them for the fight that lay ahead, but it was a heavy burden to carry without Mary by his side.