The hum of cicadas filled the warm summer air as Riku Tsukihara raced barefoot through the backyard, waving a wooden stick like a sword. His small frame darted between imaginary foes, his high-pitched cries echoing with laughter and determination. On the porch, his parents, Shun and Mari, sat watching, their quiet conversation punctuated by sips of tea.
Mari's gaze lingered on Riku as he swung wildly at the air. "Do you think it'll happen today?" she asked softly, her auburn hair catching the sunlight.
Shun leaned back, a confident grin spreading across his face. "With our quirks? It's bound to show up sooner or later. Besides, even if it doesn't happen today, he's tough—just like his old man."
"I'm not worried about toughness," Mari replied, brushing an invisible speck of dust from her sundress. "I just hope it's something manageable. Something that doesn't make life harder for him."
Shun reached over, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Don't underestimate him, Mari. He's got your brains and my determination. Whatever his quirk is, he'll figure it out."
Out in the yard, Riku raised his stick high in the air, his voice ringing out, "Take that, villain!" He brought the stick down with all his might, striking the ground with a satisfying *thud*. Dust swirled around his feet as he prepared for another blow. But as he swung again, something strange happened.
The stick shuddered in his hand. A split second later, it snapped in half with a sharp *CRACK!*
Startled, Riku froze, staring at the broken pieces in his hand. His breath caught in his throat as he looked from the shattered wood to his small, uninjured hands. "What... just happened?"
Mari was on her feet in an instant, her voice tinged with alarm. "Riku! Are you okay?" She hurried to his side, crouching to inspect his hands for splinters or cuts.
"I didn't mean to break it," Riku mumbled, his wide brown eyes darting between his mother and the stick fragments.
Shun strode over, his steps slow and deliberate. He picked up one of the broken pieces, turning it over in his hands. A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth as he crouched to Riku's level. "That wasn't just you, kid. That was your quirk."
"My… quirk?" Riku echoed, the word sounding foreign yet exciting on his tongue. His chest swelled with equal parts pride and confusion.
Shun nodded, holding up the stick for emphasis. "You hit it once, but then a second, stronger force hit it right after. That's what snapped it. It's like… a delayed explosion of power."
Mari, who had been quietly observing, pieced it together. "A delayed impact…" she murmured, her voice tinged with realization. She turned to Shun, her eyes bright. "It's a mix of our quirks, isn't it? Your *Precision Impact* and my *Kinetic Charge*."
"That's exactly it," Shun said, his grin widening. "Our boy's got something special here. Riku, you've got a quirk that can hit twice as hard as anything else. We'll call it… *Twin Impact.*"
Riku's small hands clenched into fists as he stared at the broken stick. "So… I can break things really hard?"
Shun laughed, ruffling his hair. "That's one way to put it, but it's more than that. Your quirk isn't just for breaking things—it's for controlling the force around you. We'll figure out exactly what you can do."
Mari's hand rested gently on Riku's shoulder. "You've got a gift, sweetheart. But remember, a strong quirk isn't enough. What matters is how you use it."
Riku nodded, his young mind already buzzing with possibilities. "I want to learn how to use it. Can we start now?"
---
The following days became a flurry of experimentation. In the small backyard that had once been Riku's playground, Shun and Mari transformed the space into an impromptu training ground. Shun brought out a variety of objects—rubber balls, old planks of wood, even a pile of discarded bricks—to test Riku's abilities.
"Let's keep it simple to start," Shun said one afternoon, holding up a rubber ball. "Throw this at the wall, and when it bounces back, focus. Think about hitting it again."
Riku's brows furrowed in concentration as he took the ball. He threw it at the wall, watching as it rebounded with a soft *thud*. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with a loud *BANG*, the ball shot forward again, slamming into the wall with twice the force.
"I did it!" Riku exclaimed, jumping up and down.
"That's my boy!" Shun clapped him on the back.
Mari, who had been watching from the porch, called out, "Try something smaller now, Riku. See if you can make a second impact with just a finger tap."
Riku nodded, his small face scrunching with determination. He placed his index finger against the edge of the table and tapped lightly. For a second, nothing happened. Then, a faint vibration rippled through the wood, followed by a soft *crack* as a tiny fissure appeared.
Riku's eyes widened in amazement. "It worked!"
Mari knelt beside him, her voice gentle. "See? It's not about how hard you hit—it's about precision and control. That's going to be the key to mastering your quirk."
---
As they continued testing, Riku's quirk revealed itself to be more versatile than they had imagined. By focusing his energy, he discovered he could create a delayed impact on himself, using it to amplify his movements. A small hop became a soaring leap, and a simple jab turned into an explosive strike.
He also found that the second impact didn't always need a physical target. With practice, he could release the energy into the air, creating shockwaves that rippled outward.
But the quirk wasn't without its challenges. Using it too often left Riku physically drained, and timing the second impact required patience and precision—two qualities he had yet to master as an energetic four-year-old.
Despite the setbacks, his parents remained unwavering in their support. Shun, with his practical mindset, emphasized strength and discipline. "Heroes don't rely on their quirks alone," he often told Riku. "They rely on strategy, heart, and determination."
Mari, ever the creative thinker, encouraged Riku to explore unconventional uses for his quirk. "Think outside the box," she would say. "Your quirk isn't just for hitting things—it's for controlling the world around you."
Their guidance became the foundation of Riku's early training, instilling in him a sense of purpose and responsibility.
---
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Riku sat on the porch steps, staring at his small hands. His mind flickered with faint, fragmented memories of another life—a world where quirks were nothing more than fantasy. The memories felt distant, like whispers in a dream, but they carried a strange sense of urgency.
"I'll be strong," he whispered to himself. "Stronger than anyone."
From the doorway, Shun's voice called out. "Come inside, Riku. Tomorrow's another big day."
Riku stood, his fists clenched with determination. The road ahead would be long and difficult, but he was ready. This wasn't just the awakening of a quirk—it was the beginning of something extraordinary.
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