In the remote mountains of Japan, where mist clung to jagged peaks and the air carried a faint scent of pine, a young girl named Hana, no older than twelve, knelt in the sweltering heat, her small hands trembling as she watered a cluster of wilting plants. Her brow glistened with sweat, but her eyes held a deeper weight—a longing that seemed too vast for her fragile frame. Nearby, her mother, Nari, knelt in the earth, her fingers gently pressing seeds into the soil, cultivating life in a place that felt forsaken. The sun beat down mercilessly, as if mocking their quiet labor.
Hana's voice broke the stillness, soft and aching. "I wonder what he's doing, Mom. Knowing Kael, he's probably out there saving someone… or brooding again." A wistful laugh escaped her, tinged with sorrow. "I just wish I could see him. He pops up on TV sometimes, all fire and ideals, declaring war on the world's injustices. But it's not enough. I want to hug him like before, play like we used to, sit around the table and eat together… like we were still a family."
Nari paused, her hands stilling in the dirt. Her face, lined with years of worry and unspoken regrets, softened as she looked at her daughter. "Hana, my love, you know that's impossible. We're bound to this place—trapped by the shadows of Kael's enemies. Villains would use us to get to him. And… I'm not even sure he'd want to see us." Her voice wavered, heavy with a truth she'd long avoided. "Even before everything spiraled, Kael was pulling away, just like Yuto did. Now, both my boys are out there, lost to us, chasing their own paths. Life has a cruel way of testing us, doesn't it?"
"Yuto…" Hana whispered, her voice barely audible, as if saying his name might summon him back. Over a year ago, at eighteen, Yuto had left for America to pursue his studies, promising to write, to call. But the letters never came, and the silence grew into a wound that festered quietly in their hearts. Like Kael, Yuto had always been fiercely independent, defying the world's rules, carving his own path with a stubborn resolve that both awed and pained his family.
Nari shook her head, her lips curving into a bittersweet smile. "I didn't raise them to be like this, you know. I wonder if Kael's fire somehow sparked Yuto's rebellion. Those two… they'll be the death of me, I swear." Her attempt at levity faltered, her voice cracking under the weight of her fears.
Hana's eyes softened, but her tone was firm. "Mom, don't say that. Yuto's probably just buried in books, too busy to write. Who knows? Maybe he'll come back a millionaire and whisk us away to some grand life!"
Nari chuckled, but the sound was hollow, her gaze distant. "We can dream, can't we?" Her voice grew quieter, almost a whisper. "But still…" Her thoughts drifted to Kael, her youngest son, who had been transformed by his Quirk and the mentor who shaped him—Voidflare, who in her eyes, saw in him a weapon to wield against the world's chaos.
Though at one point, she did too.
From the moment Kael's powers awakened, the boy she'd known—the one who laughed freely, who clung to her skirts—began to fade. She watched, even aided him herself, as he traded his childhood for a mantle of responsibility she'd unwittingly placed upon him.
Nari's hands trembled as she clutched a handful of soil, her thoughts spiraling into guilt. 'I told him to be a vigilante, to change the world. I pushed him toward a destiny that wasn't his to bear. I stole his childhood, and for what? To carry my sister's dream?' Her sister, Kael's mother, had burned with the same fierce idealism, a vision of a world free from prejudice and pain. Nari had seen that fire in Kael and, in her grief, had fanned it, believing it would honor her sister's memory. Now, she saw only the cost.
"Hana," Nari's voice broke, raw with regret, "I wish I could undo it all. I can't bear seeing him like this—on screens, a stranger, fighting battles I helped create. I should've said no. I should've kept him close, let him be a kid, not a savior."
Hana set down her watering can, her small frame moving swiftly to her mother's side. She wrapped her arms around Nari, her embrace fierce despite her size. "Mom, stop. You've done everything for us. You taught me how to love, how to see the good in people, even when they can't see it themselves. You cooked for us, sang to us, helped me through school… Without you, I wouldn't have survived what happened with Kael."
Nari's tears fell freely now, her body shaking as memories of Kael's exposure as the vigilante Equinox flooded back. The news had painted him as a menace, a villain, his face plastered across every screen, his identity stripped bare. The government had swept Hana and Nari into seclusion, ostensibly for their safety, though Hana suspected it was also a trap to lure Kael back.
They lived in a gilded cage—a modest house stocked with every comfort, from a brimming fridge to an 80-inch television—but it was a prison nonetheless, watched by unseen eyes.
As storm clouds gathered overhead, the first droplets of rain kissed their skin, and the wind began to howl, carrying with it an ominous chill. Hana helped her mother to her feet, guiding her inside their home. She led Nari to her room, settling her into bed as her sobs quieted into the soft rhythm of sleep. Hana stood over her, her heart aching at the sight of her mother's tear-streaked face. She hated this—hated the pain, the isolation, the unchangeable past. 'If I could turn back time…' she thought, but the wish dissolved into the silence.
"I'll be a Hero," Hana whispered, her voice trembling with resolve. "A Hero who makes sure no one else has to feel this way." She reached out, her hand hovering over her mother's sleeping form, a silent vow to protect what remained of their fractured family.
---
Miles away, in a city reduced to rubble, Kael—known to the world as Equinox—stood over the fallen form of Magnetor, his latest foe. The air was thick with dust and the acrid scent of scorched metal. He extended his hand, palm open, expecting the familiar pulse of Balancekeeper, his Quirk that allowed him to siphon others' powers. But the faint dot at the center of his palm flickered and faded, refusing to activate.
"Balancekeeper… it's not working?" His voice was low, laced with disbelief. He stared at his hand, the weight of this new limitation sinking in. 'A Quirk that lets me take and wield others' powers at will… I thought I understood it. But there's more to it, isn't there?'
A rift tore open in the air, and Dr. Sato emerged, yawning, his disheveled lab coat stained with food and his face marked by dried spittle. "What's the matter, boy? Thought you had everything handled. Gave me the day off, and now this? Should've known it was too good to be true."
Kael's jaw tightened. "I can't extract Magnetor's Quirk. When I try, the dot in my palm fades until I stop. Why?"
Dr. Sato's eyes narrowed, his usual irreverence giving way to curiosity. "Let me see." Kael activated Balancekeeper again, and the dot vanished as before. Sato's brow furrowed. "Well, I'll be damned. I think we both know what's happening here."
Kael nodded, his voice heavy. "Balancekeeper maintains equilibrium. It won't let me take a Quirk that disrupts the world's natural balance."
"Exactly," Sato said, rubbing his chin. "Your Quirk has a limiter, Kael. It refuses to push you beyond what the world can handle. Fascinating… but problematic."
Kael crouched, rubbing his temples, frustration etching lines into his face. "This changes everything. How can I rid the world of Quirks if I'm capped like this?"
Sato's eyes gleamed with possibility. "I could try to develop something to bypass that limiter, but—"
"It might destabilize my Quirk entirely," Kael finished, shaking his head. "Not worth the risk." He paused, a new idea sparking. "But what if we don't bypass it? My aunt once built a device to store Quirks. It overloaded with too many, but with your expertise and the resources we have now—Cathris' income, Varn's stashes, the Gollini fortune—could you create something that holds an infinite number of Quirks?"
Sato's jaw dropped, a laugh bubbling up. "Your aunt made a Quirk-storing device? With a Quirk that just makes food taste better? That's… incredible. Alright, Kael, you've got a deal. Give me more days off, and I'll build you a device that can store Quirks without limit. Swing by the lab when you're back—tell me everything about her tech."
Kael nodded, opening a rift to send Magnetor's body away and another for Sato to return to his lab. As the rifts closed, he stood alone, the weight of his mission pressing down on him. 'Balancekeeper, what else are you hiding?'
Ryken's vestige materialized, his spectral form shimmering in the sunlight. "You're already overpowered, Kael. Surprised you could take Quirks after mine. But if you can't take stronger ones now… where does that leave you? On par with All Might?"
Kael's lips twitched into a grim smile. "Not even close. Maybe Heroes like Heat Stroke, or someone like SPEED or Rewrite. But there are too many unknowns to say for sure."
Ryken paced, his voice earnest. "Kael, the world's falling apart. Villain attacks are escalating, faith in Heroes is crumbling. Now BalanceKeeper wants to reveal its weakness after all this time. Hate to say this, but you really can't work alone anymore."
"I know," Kael admitted, his voice soft. "But I can't risk Mira, Reina, Kai… any of them. I want to be someone like All Might, but even he can't save everyone. Japan flourished under him though, but what about the rest of the world? They're drowning in corruption and evil. You know what? Forget being like All Might. I'll be better. I'll be the Hero everyone looks up to."
Ryken raised a hand, silencing him. "You're no hero, Kael. At least, from what I see. In my eyes, you're just a broken little kid who wants revenge for his teacher's death. You're doing this purely out of revenge and hatred. And purging quirks? That's just a step you figured would make things easier along the way. All for One's influence—his wars, his experiments, his cruelty—must end, I agree with that. But your motivation, man… I will follow you until death's door and will support you through the end as best I can, but just think of all your comrades. They really support you, my guy. Don't let them down because of your own personal grudges and beliefs. I guess what I'm trying to say is… open your eyes a little more. Look at the bigger picture. Look at your own future and not just everyone else's. Don't you want to get married, have kids, have grandkids, and so on? Don't you want to see them grow up and have their own lovers and family? You're willing to sacrifice so much, I just think… that you deserve a happy ending."
Kael's eyes softened, a rare smile breaking through. "You're right. I just get so caught up sometimes. I do want a family, a big one at that. I want a bunch of children running around the house while I sit back and watch T.V. But Ryken, I will never achieve that, as long as he's out there. Call it obsession, but I literally can't sleep at night because of all the nightmares he causes me. All the pain and suffering I went through was because of him. My children and their children and their children will never experience that, not on my watch. So even if it kills me, I will not stop until every last trace of All for One is erased."
He extended his hand, and Ryken shook it.
"But I'll start being more careful and aware. Thank you, Ryken."
"No problem, kid. I'm glad I was able to get through to you, even if it was just a little. But yeah, man, you're young and have a long life ahead of you, hopefully. But you know, just in case… Mira and Reina… I'd hop on that if I were you." Ryken's form faded, leaving Kael alone with the wind and his thoughts.
"Hop… on that? Why do old people try so hard to sound… ah, never mind…"
Suddenly, memories of Yumi flooded in—her laughter, her warmth, the moments that anchored him. He looked to the sky, its vast beauty a painful reminder of her. "Yumi," he whispered, his voice breaking, "I think you and I… would've made… some cute kids…"
…