The days had blurred together since the loss of his father. To the outside world, Kairo seemed fine—focused on his training, attending school without any complaints, and staying true to his usual self. But inside, his emotions felt like a storm, churning and twisting without a break. No matter how much he tried to bury them, the sadness lingered, threatening to break through the walls he'd carefully built around himself.
Each morning, he woke up with the same sense of purpose, but the weight of it all pressed on him like a heavy cloak. He couldn't show his weakness, not to his friends, not to his classmates, and certainly not to his mother, Rika. She had always been his pillar, the one who held their family together, but he could see the worry in her eyes. He couldn't let her down. Not now. Not after what happened.
The school day had been exhausting as usual—endless classes, idle chatter, and the occasional quirk-related discussion. But it was Kenta and Mei, his two closest friends, who noticed it first.
"Are you okay, Kairo?" Kenta asked quietly as they walked down the hallway after class, his eyes sharp and filled with concern. Kairo flashed him a quick, forced smile.
"I'm fine, Kenta. Just tired," he replied, trying to keep his voice steady. But Kenta wasn't convinced. He had been his friend for too long to fall for that.
"Don't hide it. I know something's wrong. We're here for you, you know that, right?"
Mei, walking beside them, glanced at Kenta, then at Kairo. Her concern was written clearly on her face, but she didn't press him. She knew how Kairo was—he was stubborn, determined, and never one to admit when he was struggling.
"I… I just don't want to seem weak," Kairo admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. He didn't look at them, instead focusing on the ground in front of him.
"You're not weak, Kairo," Mei said softly, her voice filled with warmth. "You don't have to carry everything alone."
"I'm fine," Kairo repeated, more to himself than to them. He wasn't ready to talk about it. Not yet.
After school, he returned home, a familiar ache settling in his chest as he saw his mother waiting by the door. Rika greeted him with a warm smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. He could tell that she was still worried. She had been doing everything she could to help him through this—checking on him constantly, asking how he was feeling, and making sure he didn't overexert himself with his Quirk training. But Kairo didn't want her to worry.
"Welcome home, Kairo," Rika said, her voice gentle as she placed a hand on his shoulder. "How was school?"
"Same as always," Kairo replied, his tone casual. "Nothing special."
He could see the way his mother's eyes lingered on him, the concern she hid behind that soft smile. But she didn't say anything. Instead, she simply nodded, leading him into the kitchen where dinner was already set.
As they ate, the silence between them grew heavier. Kairo could feel it, the unspoken words between him and his mother. She was trying so hard to keep everything together, to make sure he was okay, but he knew she was struggling too. He couldn't let her suffer like this—not when he should be the one protecting her.
That night, after dinner, Kairo retreated to his room to train with his Quirk. He was determined to get better, to be stronger. Every time he powered through a move or felt a surge of electricity in his hands, it reminded him of the one thing he couldn't let go of: his resolve. He had to protect his mother. He had to be the strong one.
But his mind kept drifting back to his father—the man who had been the epitome of strength and justice. Kairo had always looked up to him, admired him, and now he was gone. He couldn't let that loss consume him. He couldn't let the pain weaken him.
And yet, even as he worked to hone his abilities, the weight of his emotions lingered. His Quirk was powerful, but it didn't solve everything. It didn't heal the hole his father had left behind. No matter how hard he trained, the void remained.
Hours passed as Kairo pushed himself, his body growing tired, his mind weary from the constant effort. He wasn't sure when he fell asleep, but when he woke the next morning, there was a clarity in his thoughts that hadn't been there the day before.
As he looked at his reflection in the mirror, Kairo realized something. He wasn't just training for himself. He was training to make his mother proud, to ensure that she never had to worry about him again. He could feel it deep in his heart—his father's legacy was one of strength and justice, but his mother's love was a force all its own. It was because of her that he kept going. It was because of her that he could still stand tall.
"I won't let you down, Mom," Kairo whispered to himself, his reflection steady and unwavering.
When he went downstairs, Rika was already up, preparing breakfast. She smiled when she saw him, and for the first time in a long while, Kairo felt a sense of peace settle over him.
"You're up early," Rika remarked, her voice light. "Ready for another day of training?"
Kairo nodded, determination in his eyes. "I'm ready."
"Good," Rika said with a proud smile, but Kairo could see the hint of relief in her gaze. She hadn't said anything, but he knew she was happy to see him focused again, to see that spark of resolve in his eyes.
After breakfast, Kairo headed to school, a sense of purpose guiding his every step. When he arrived, Kenta and Mei were already waiting for him, their usual banter lightening the mood. But this time, Kairo felt different. He wasn't hiding anymore. He wasn't pretending to be fine just to spare anyone else from his pain. He had a new resolve—a quiet, but powerful determination to move forward, for his family.
"Hey, Kairo," Kenta said, noticing the change in his demeanor. "You good today?"
Kairo smiled, the weight on his shoulders feeling a little lighter. "Yeah. I'm good. Let's go."
As the day went on, Kairo's focus never wavered. He worked hard in every class, his mind sharp and calculating. He didn't let his grief control him anymore. Instead, he used it to fuel his drive, to make sure he would never stop until he was strong enough to protect those he loved.
And in that moment, as he sat in class, surrounded by his friends, Kairo finally understood what his mother had been trying to tell him all along. It wasn't about being strong for the sake of strength—it was about being strong for those who depended on him. And no matter how hard it got, he wouldn't stop until he could make her proud.