"Shut the fuck up! Bastard!"
Kirishima woke up cursing, his face twisted in a scowl.
It had been an unpleasantly vivid dream.
The bitter memory of his father's hand slapping his cheek in childhood—the searing sting of cigarette embers licking his skin, the crushing helplessness when a kick snapped his arm and left him utterly powerless, and the lonely, bitter taste of rainwater mixing with his tears after being beaten by his peers—flooded his mind.
Like a movie playing in sequence, memories from his previous life—over twenty years gone—rolled before his eyes.
Soon enough, the father from that life appeared at his side.
The man draped an arm over Kirishima’s shoulder and whispered softly,
"How is your new life? Are you happy? Jin. Jin Luciano? You discarded my surname, and now even your own name is lost, you prodigal son."
Kirishima struggled to break free and drive a fist into that nauseating face.
But his body refused to move.
Helpless and immobilized, he had to endure every word as the man’s vile breath tickled his ear.
"You truly are my son. You inherited my fists and used them to trample and crush anyone in your path, seizing glory for yourself! Oh, Luciano! What a magnificent bloodline!"
Determined, Kirishima strained every muscle in an attempt to move.
If his entire body wouldn’t obey, then at least one arm; if not an arm, then even a single finger—he honed his focus until something budged.
Still, the man released his hold on Kirishima’s shoulder and stepped directly in front of him.
Seizing Kirishima’s face with both hands, he leaned in close to lock eyes.
The man’s fathomless, black eyes pierced Kirishima’s soul.
"So, did you enjoy it? Making people into a bloody mess? How about smashing those arrogant fools into the ground? Did it feel good, standing over those who looked down on you?"
As the darkness in his eyes spread outward like ink dissolving in water, filling the whites, the tip of Kirishima’s left index finger twitched.
Slowly, his body began to stir, though he remained silent and listened.
"Haha. You’ve been such a good boy, haven’t you? Such a cute little child. But I know your true nature, Jin. You crave blood, don’t you? You yearn to ruin the faces of those high-and-mighty bastards, to tear them limb from limb—how long are you going to hide what you truly are?"
In that moment, a heat sparked at his fingertips and surged through his entire body.
Without another thought, Kirishima grabbed the man by the throat, shouted, and slammed him into the floor.
In an instant, the world around him shattered into fragments that cascaded downward, and the dream faded away.
Sitting up in bed, Kirishima rubbed his face in the darkness.
"I don’t enjoy seeing blood—what I enjoy is fighting, you bastard."
His quiet murmur echoed in the silent room.
The wounds of his past life still lingered in his soul, bleeding relentlessly.
"Six months, huh... Still, the intervals are growing longer."
At least the nightmares that had plagued him so often since his reincarnation were becoming increasingly rare.
Feeling a measure of relief, Kirishima checked his phone.
It was 5:00 a.m.—a little earlier than usual. In a foul mood, he got up, opened the door, and stepped out into the backyard.
As he went through his customary light warm-up, his thoughts churned restlessly.
If it weren’t for my coach in my previous life—and if I hadn’t had my parents now—I probably wouldn’t be the person I am today.
Kirishima didn’t see himself as a particularly good person.
He wasn’t driven by righteousness or bound by law-abiding principles.
He was no stranger to the brutal realities of life, unafraid of bloodshed and instinctively driven by a desire to win.
Yet, the reason he managed to live within society was thanks to his previous life’s coach and his current parents.
Well, if I’d ended up with rotten parents, I might have become a villain.
Even now, Kirishima had no grand ambition of becoming a hero merely to be the strongest.
He simply aspired to be a hero for his parents’ sake.
"Eiji, good morning. You’re up early again today."
"Huh? Good morning. You’re up early too, Mom."
After a moderate workout and cool-down, Kirishima greeted his mother as she emerged into the backyard.
The sight of her sleepy face washed away the sticky remnants of his nightmare.
Without a word, he walked over and embraced her.
"Oh my. What’s this? Eiji hugging Mom first thing in the morning?"
"Mm. Just because. I felt happy seeing you, Mom."
Her eyes widened in surprise at his sudden display of childlike affection—a stark contrast to the usual reserved, mature Kirishima. Soon, though, she recovered and returned his embrace warmly.
"Mom feels wonderful when you hug me, Eiji! I think today’s going to be a great day. Now, let’s get ready in a good mood! You haven’t forgotten what day it is, have you, Eiji?"
"What day... Oh, right. It’s the day we go on a trip."
"You forgot, huh? Well, better late than never!"
Now that he thought about it, today was the day they were set to leave for a summer vacation at a mountain lodge with the Ashido family.
Since their first meeting last October, Ashido had been trailing Kirishima everywhere.
Although it was a bit of a hassle at times, Kirishima always had a soft spot for children and played along without complaint.
In truth, he was the one taking care of her more than playing with her.
Ashido had been transferred to a kindergarten farther from home after an incident at her previous one and would wait there after classes until her parents arrived.
Kirishima had assumed she would manage on her own, but when he turned to leave one day and saw her eyes brimming with tears, he ended up staying with her until her parents showed up. That small act eventually became routine.
Thanks to that, he had met Ashido’s parents, and before long, the two families had grown close.
So this is how families with kids get close. Terrifying...
Reflecting on how naturally their bonds had deepened sent a shiver down Kirishima’s spine.
"All right then. Wash up quickly, eat, and get ready. Mom’s going to wake Dad. Eiji, you go wash up."
"Yes. I will."
As always, Kirishima mixed his protein supplement into milk, gulped it down, rushed through his shower, and sat down to breakfast with his parents.
After breakfast, they piled into the large SUV his father drove and headed to the Ashido house, where everyone was already waiting outside.
The moment Ashido spotted Kirishima, she bounced excitedly and shouted, "Eiji! It’s Eiji! Hi!"
"No, I told you not to call me that. It sounds weird... Anyway, hi."
Kirishima flinched at the memory of his nightmare when he caught a dark glimmer in Ashido’s eyes, but he quickly composed himself.
It would have been unseemly to compare the ominous black of his dream—full of malignant intent—to the bright, sparkling kindness in Ashido’s eyes.
As usual, he grumbled about the strange nickname she’d adopted ever since he’d told her she could call him by his name, then he sighed and responded.
"But Eiji sounds cute!"
"Sigh. Fine, call me whatever you want. Good morning, ma’am, sir."
"Morning! You look strangely tired again today, Eiji! It’s a day for going out—you should be bursting with energy! Just like our Mina."
"It’s cute, so it’s fine! Let’s all have fun together this time, Eiji!"
"Haha... Yes, ma’am."
Unlike Kirishima, the Ashido parents radiated a boundless energy, greeting him with enthusiastic warmth.
Kirishima could barely muster a sigh as he offered a half-hearted reply.
After the brief exchange, the two families climbed into Kirishima’s large SUV and headed for Tokyo Station.
The plan was to catch the Shinkansen from Tokyo Station, disembark at Aomori, and then drive the reserved rental car to the mountain lodge.
Not much of a fan of travel, Kirishima spent the journey nursing a headache from fielding Ashido’s nonstop chatter.
She talked incessantly in the car on the way to the station and continued her endless conversation on the train as she sat beside him—leaving him wondering what could possibly fill this little girl’s head.
"Eiji, you want to be a hero too, right?"
"Yeah. I have to. A hero."
"Heh. So it’s not that you merely want to be one, but that you’re going to be one. Eiji, you really are full of confidence!"
"I was a world champion, so aiming to just be a hero is a bit... different."
After Ashido moved on from chatting about last night’s snack and this morning’s breakfast, the conversation naturally shifted to the eternal idol for children everywhere: heroes.
Kirishima answered Ashido’s questions with his usual calm detachment.
When he thought of the heroes he’d seen in videos, even the nameless lower-tier ones paled in comparison to his former self.
Having honed his Quirk and started training at an early age, Kirishima was utterly confident that he could become a hero.
"I want to be a hero too!"
"Well, most people say that. Still, if you work hard, I really think you could become one."
"Really? Why?"
"For one, your Quirk is exceptional. While others scramble to boost their power, yours is so lethal that you’ll have to work on controlling it instead. And you’ve got great athletic ability, too."
"Wow! Eiji praised me! Hehe, I like Eiji!"
Ashido beamed and wrapped her arms around Kirishima.
Startled by her sudden hug—after he’d casually evaluated her—Kirishima instinctively tried to pull away.
But then he recalled how she had nearly burst into tears the last time he had tried to stop her, so he let her hold on.
"You... Sigh. Never mind."
"Huh? Why?"
"Nothing. You’re just too cute."
He had meant to tell her to let go, but instead he gave up and patted her head gently.
Ashido purred like a cat, nestling even closer to him.
Somehow, ever since he’d gotten to know Ashido, Kirishima found himself sighing more than before.
Ashido’s mother, seated in the front, turned around to glance at them and smiled contentedly.
"After the accident at her old kindergarten, she was so down—I was worried. I’m glad she’s found her energy again, thanks to you, Kirishima."
"Oh my. I can’t imagine Ashido ever looking dejected. She’s so full of life."
"Before the accident, she had tons of friends; but afterward, no one would even speak to her. It was heartbreaking to watch. Yet after moving to a new kindergarten and meeting you, she’s blossomed—now she talks about you several times a day."
"Really? Our Kirishima hardly ever mentions what goes on outside, so I had no idea if he was doing well at kindergarten. He always seemed so mature, almost too old for his age, which worried us. But since meeting Ashido, he’s made plenty of friends, and that eases our minds."
"Then they’re good for each other. I hope they remain close from now on."
"They will. She likes you that much. Hoho!"
Listening to the mothers’ conversation, Kirishima wondered if he’d really caused them any worry at all—though nothing troubling came to mind.
He hadn’t done anything truly problematic, it seemed.
Uncertain about the intricacies of parental love, his confusion soon faded as the train pressed onward, steaming through an undersea tunnel until arriving in Aomori.
Kirishima gently roused Ashido—who had fallen asleep with her head resting on his shoulder—and they disembarked from the train.
A clean, well-kept station greeted them.
The beginning of an unforgettable summer trip.
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