— Ryo POV —
A new day starts, and it feels… normal again. Or at least as normal as it can be after almost getting absorbed by a sentient puddle of sludge.
It's been a few days since the incident, and the heroes finally confirmed that the Sludge Villain got caught for real this time. No more surprise ambushes. No more goo in the sewers plotting to steal bodies. That means Dad can stop worrying so much.
Well… actually, he still worries. He always tries to act cool about it, but he quietly checks our doors twice every night, and he's started telling us, "Text me when you get home".
And since the danger is gone, it's back to my routine.
Today is training day.
I just finished my morning workout: 100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, 100 squats. My arms feel like jelly, my legs feel like hollow bamboo sticks, and I'm 70% sure I'm sweating from my soul. But that doesn't matter. This is the ritual. The path. The grind.
I want to get into U.A. High School, Japan's top hero academy. If I want to save Kaiya someday… if I want to become a hero… I can't afford to be weak.
A 10 km run is all that's left.
"Yo Ren, I'm going on a run!" I yell from the doorway, tying my shoes.
Ren pops his head out from the living room, already holding a controller, thumbs ready for his game."Take care, big bro! I'll be here… training my fingers!"
Figures. That kid could game for ten hours straight and only stop because his stomach remembered that food exists.
I head out, jogging down the street, letting the cool air hit my face. As my legs settle into rhythm, my mind drifts back to that day… the sludge… the panic… the feeling of my arm moving wildly on its own.
My right arm, the living gauntlet.The one that protected me.The one that nearly hurt Ren because I couldn't control it.
Yeah. I need to fix that.
"I need to gain control," I mutter as I pick up my pace.
But how?
Meditation? Yeah, meditation sounds cool. Sitting with my eyes closed, breathing calmly, like some kind of wise master. Maybe my arm would calm down with me.
Yoga? Maybe. I could stretch my body, become flexible, breathe deeply… although the thought of doing a downward dog pose next to buff pro heroes is a little embarrassing.
What else…?
Maybe I should pick up small objects with my gauntlet to develop precision. Like marbles or Ren's action figures… no, he'd kill me.
If I attach weights to my arm, maybe it'll stabilize and strengthen, so it stops flailing around like a malfunctioning robot. Hmmmm
Heroes always talk about visualizing their power. So maybe I gotta imagine the gauntlet clearly in my mind… like shaping it mentally before shaping it physically. Maybe...
My arm can stretch about two meters. If I train that range slowly, maybe I can stop it from overshooting and punching random objects or people.
That's… actually a pretty solid list, I think.I'm not gonna lie, imagining myself mastering all of these made my brain go into anime-protagonist mode for a second.
Just picture it!Ryo, the Calm-Focused-Extendable-Gauntlet Hero!Saving lives with perfect control!Everyone cheering!My arm shining like crimson steel!Ren asking for autographs!Dad crying in the background!…
I shake my head softly and breathe out.
My run finally ends, and I lower myself onto the curb, heart pounding but satisfied. Not bad. Ten kilometers down. Hero's dream is still intact.
When I get home, Ren is exactly where I left him, on the floor, screaming dramatically at the TV.
"STOP CAMPING ME!"
"I'm not camping! You're just bad!"
"YOU'RE A MENACE!"
Naturally, I sit next to him and join in. We play Smash Bros for a couple of hours, longer than I planned, honestly. Every victory or defeat, shouting things like
"BRO, WHY DID YOU DO THAT!!" filled the room with energy. It feels good to bond with family.
Eventually, I stand up, stretching my back.
"Alright, I'm done playing. I'm going to the backyard to train."
Ren pauses the game and looks over his shoulder.
"Training your quirk?"
"Yeah. Don't come out, okay?"
The last thing I want is to accidentally yeet him into the fence.
He nods and stands up proudly, puffing out his chest like a mascot getting ready for a halftime performance.
He raises his fist dramatically and shouts
"GOOD LUCK, BIG BROOOO!!" he shouted and bowed to me like one of the yakuza underlings
"WHAHAH what are you doing?" as I flicked his forehead and head out
…I don't even know where he learned to shit like that.
Dad definitely didn't teach him.
But somehow, it still pumps me up.
I step outside, clench my right hand, and feel the familiar heat gather around my arm.
Today...I train.
I improve.
I get one step closer to being a hero
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