Chapter 07: The Weight of a Dream
The walk home from the beach was silent. Tokoyami's question—Are you coming, or not?—hung in the air, a physical weight Kaito could sense as clearly as he could sense the cold pavement. He had spent eight years learning control. The center had taught him not to float away, not to drop things, not to accidentally crush the floor. His mother had reinforced it every single day.
But Tokoyami hadn't asked about control. He had asked about use.
He walked into the warm, familiar energy of his home. "I'm home," he called out.
"Welcome back, Kaito," Aoi's voice came from the kitchen. "Dinner is almost ready."
The meal began as it always did. Haru spoke about his day at school, Aoi asked about homework, and Kaito moved his chopsticks with practiced precision, his Quirk mapping the food on his plate. The silence from Kaito, usually so engaged, was palpable.
"Kaito?" Haru finally asked, setting his chopsticks down. "Everything alright? You're quiet."
Kaito's hands, resting in his lap, clenched. This was it.
"I've decided," he said, his voice clear and steady. "I know which high school I want to apply to."
Aoi smiled, her bright violet energy warming. "Oh? That's wonderful. Is it the local one with the good accessibility program?"
"No," Kaito said. He turned his head, his unfocused, violet-glowing eyes "looking" directly at her energy signature. "I'm applying to U.A."
The spoon in Aoi's hand clattered against her bowl. The warmth of her energy signature vanished, replaced by a sudden, icy cold.
"No," she said. The word was flat. Final.
"Aoi..." Haru began, his tone cautious.
"No," Aoi repeated, her voice rising. "We are not having this discussion. Kaito, that is a school for heroes. It is a school for combat. It is the most dangerous place you could possibly go. The answer is no."
"I knew you'd say that," Kaito said, his voice tight with frustration.
"Of course I said that!" she cried, standing up. "Have you forgotten? Have you forgotten how terrified you were? How many times you hit your head? How you cried in the night because you didn't know where you were? I haven't! That center... we sent you to that center to keep you safe. To let you live a normal life. Not to... to throw that life away fighting villains!"
"Aoi, he's not six years old anymore," Haru said, his voice firm as he also stood. "You've seen his control. He's stronger than—"
"I don't care how strong he is!" Aoi shouted, tears now welling. "He is my son! The world is not kind, Haru. Villains will not care that he's blind! They will not 'make exceptions' for him. They will try to kill him. And I will not... I will not bury my son."
The room fell silent, broken only by Aoi's ragged breathing.
Kaito slowly pushed his chair back and stood. His whole body was trembling, not from fear, but from a lifetime of suppressed energy.
"Mom," he whispered. His voice was shaking. "For the first four years of my life, I was in the dark. I didn't know what a shape was. You and Dad... your voices, your touch... you were my entire world. And I was terrified."
He took a step toward her. "Then, I got this." The violet glow in his eyes intensified, pulsing. "It's not your sight. I don't see your face. I don't see colors. But I see you. I see your warmth, and your fear. I see this house. It's my sight. And it's a miracle."
He raised his hands. "And then... this. This... this weight. This power. You've spent eight years being terrified of it. You taught me to hold it down. To not float. To not break things. You taught me to be afraid of it, just like you are."
His voice broke, raw with an emotion she had never heard from him. "But what is the point of a miracle if I'm not allowed to use it? What is the point of this power if I just... sit still?"
He was crying now. "You see me as the blind boy you need to protect. And I love you for that. But Tokoyami... he sees me as a partner. Dad..." he turned to Haru, "...I think you see me as a possibility."
He turned back to his mother, his tears tracing paths down his cheeks. "But I need you to see me as strong. Please, Mom. Let me... let me try. I want to be me. I don't want to be protected forever from you mom, but I wanna be a son who can protect his mom too."
Aoi was clutching her heart, her own tears streaming down her face. She was looking at him, really looking at him. Not at the infant in the dark, but at the young man standing before her, his power a visible, thrumming aura in the room. Her protection, once a shield, had become a cage.
Haru moved to her side, placing his hand on her back. "He will get hurt, Aoi," Haru said softly, his own voice thick. "That's part of living. But we can't... we can't keep him in that dark room forever. He's right. He's not blind anymore."
Aoi let out a long, shuddering sob. She looked at Kaito's determined, tear-streaked face. She finally, slowly, nodded.
"Fine," she whispered, her voice breaking. "...Fine. You can apply. But, Kaito... promise me. Promise your mother... you will never be reckless. You will come home."
"I promise," Kaito wept, moving forward and wrapping his arms around her waist, burying his face in her shirt. "I'll always come home."
The next day, Kaito and Tokoyami stood in their middle school's guidance office, the air smelling of old paper. They placed their high school choice forms on the counselor's desk. Both forms had the same two letters at the top: U.A.
As they walked out into the hallway, Tokoyami glanced at him, the bright light of the corridor making Dark Shadow a dormant shadow.
"You really did it."
Kaito clutched the strap of his backpack, his internal senses still humming from the emotional night before. He faced his friend.
"This is just the beginning," Kaito said. "The exam... that's the real barrier."
.
.
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