Chapter 4: Awakening the Judgeman
The Higuruma estate was a picture of opulence on the morning of Hiromi's fourth birthday. Silver platters lined the mahogany tables, and the garden was filled with the influential elite of Japan. Daichi Higuruma moved through the crowd with practiced ease, shaking hands with Hero Commission officials and nodding respectfully to the patriarch of the Yaoyorozu family.
"A monumental day, Daichi," the elder Yaoyorozu remarked, sipping expensive tea. "The awakening of a quirk in a lineage like yours... one can only imagine the potential. Perhaps our children will one day draft the laws of the next century together."
Hiromi sat quietly on a stone bench, watching the spectacle. To the guests, he was a silent, well-behaved prodigy. To himself, he felt like a pressure cooker reaching its limit. His skin tingled with a static charge that had nothing to do with the humid afternoon air.
It's coming, he thought, his mind flashing back to the panels of the manga he had read in his past life. In JJK, Higuruma's quirk was born from a total collapse of faith in the system. But here... mine is being born from the need to enforce it.
The trigger happened during the cake cutting. A young, boisterous cousin—a boy with a minor kinetic quirk—tried to "prank" Hiromi by shoving him toward the multi-tiered cake. As the boy's hands made contact, the air in the garden didn't just turn cold; it turned silent.
The laughter of the socialites died in their throats. The birds in the trees stopped chirping. A heavy, invisible weight descended upon the estate, forcing everyone to their knees as if the very gravity of the earth had suddenly developed a moral conscience.
"Wh-what is this?" Daichi gasped, struggling to breathe.
From the shadows behind Hiromi, a massive, horrifyingly majestic figure rose. It was draped in a pitch-black executioner's robe that seemed to swallow the sunlight. Its face was a smooth, featureless mask covered by a heavy blindfold. In its hands, it held a pair of golden scales that shimmered with a terrifying, impartial light.
"Judgeman," Hiromi whispered.
The entity wasn't a hero; it was a god of the courtroom. In Hiromi's right hand, a wooden gavel manifested—heavy, ancient, and absolute.
Hiromi turned his gaze toward the guests. In his mind, he didn't see people; he saw "files." He saw the tax evasions of the businessman to his left. He saw the covered-up assault charges of the hero-trainee to his right. He saw the legal loop-holes his father had exploited just last week.
"The trial is in session," Hiromi said, his voice echoing with a dual-tone—his own child-like pitch layered with a booming, ancient resonance.
The golden scales tipped. Judgeman let out a low, vibrating hum.
[GUILTY]
The word appeared in the air like a brand of fire. Immediately, the kinetic energy from his cousin's hands vanished. The boy fell flat on his face, his quirk—his very essence of power—temporarily snuffed out.
"Confiscation," Hiromi muttered, looking at his gavel.
The pressure vanished. The garden returned to normal, but the silence remained. The elite of Japan looked at the four-year-old boy with a mixture of awe and genuine, primal fear.
Daichi was the first to stand, his face pale but his eyes gleaming with a terrifying ambition. "A Judicial Quirk... a sentient Domain... Hiromi, do you realize what this means? You won't just be a lawyer. You will be the one who decides who is allowed to have power at all!"
Emi rushed forward, hugging her son tightly, her heart racing against his back. "He's just a child, Daichi! Look at him, he's trembling!"
Hiromi wasn't trembling from fear. He was trembling from the sheer, intoxicating clarity of it. He looked at his mother, then at his father's greedy eyes, and finally at the empty space where Judgeman had been.
I didn't just get his power, Hiromi realized, a cold smile touching his lips. I got the ability to stop the wheel. This world is obsessed with Quirks. I am the only one who can take them away.
"I'm not going to be a lawyer, Father," Hiromi said, pulling away from his mother's embrace to stand tall. "I'm going to U.A. High. I'm going to be a hero."
"A hero?" Daichi laughed. "With a power that shuts others down? You'll be hated!"
"Let them hate me," Hiromi replied, his eyes narrowing. "Justice isn't a popularity contest. It's a verdict."