Arata Tetsuki leaned against the rooftop railing of his apartment building, the afternoon sun painting the city in golden hues. The wind tugged at his jacket as he practiced air-stepping, leaping short distances with Riku's ember guiding him. Each jump felt smoother, his reflexes sharper thanks to the kid sparks—Hana's shy trust, the festival boy's grateful grin. Closing his eyes, he glimpsed his sea of consciousness: Renjiro's locked blaze, Dad's steady warmth, Izuku's hopeful flicker, Bakugo's firm glow. Their trust is my strength, he thought. His meta-knowledge whispered warnings—the League of Villains, All For One's shadow, deaths like Nighteye's. I'll protect Deku from that.A sudden thud jolted him. He turned to see All Might, his towering frame landing with a grin that could light up the city. "Young Tetsuki!" the hero boomed, his voice carrying a warmth that eased the tension. "That move with the sludge villain—pure heroism! You've got heart!"Arata straightened, nodding. "Thanks, All Might. Just reacted."All Might chuckled, stepping closer. "No need for modesty! That leap was pro-level. I see potential in you—and in Midoriya. I'm training him, you know, helping him find his footing."Before Arata could respond, a gruff voice cut through. "Toshinori, what's this about? Why's a big shot like you fussing over that green kid?"Arata turned to see Renjiro, his grandfather, emerging from the stairwell. The old man's frame was solid despite his years, his eyes narrowing with curiosity. Arata felt a pang—Renjiro's flame in his sea was locked, a mystery he couldn't crack.All Might laughed, rubbing the back of his head. "Renjiro! It's been ages! You and Gran Torino used to drag me into all sorts of messes back in the day—remember that villain chase in Osaka?"Renjiro smirked, leaning on the railing. "Ha! You tripped over your own cape, and Torino wouldn't let it go for weeks. But seriously, why Midoriya? He's quirkless, or at least he looks it. What's the deal?"All Might's grin softened, his gaze distant. "It's his spirit, old friend. I see the same flame in him that burned in me when I was young—raw, untested potential. He's got a heart that can carry the world. I don't fully understand how my quirk works, how it can be passed down, but I feel it's my duty to guide him. He's special."Renjiro raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "A flame, huh? Sounds like hero talk to me. But if you're set on it, I trust your gut. Just don't break the kid—he looks like he'd shatter under pressure."All Might nodded, his tone earnest. "I'll be careful. He's got a long road ahead, but I believe in him. And you, Renjiro—you raised a grandson with that same spark. Tetsuki here moved when others froze."Arata shifted, unused to the spotlight. "I just… did what felt right."Renjiro grunted, eyeing him. "Stubborn like your mother. Keep that up, boy. Toshinori, you watch him too—he's got my blood."All Might clapped a hand on Arata's shoulder, nearly knocking him off balance. "Of course! Stick with Midoriya, young Tetsuki. He'll need friends like you. Your air-step—it reminds me of someone. Keep honing it!"Arata nodded, feeling Riku's ember pulse. "I will. For Deku."The conversation drifted to old times—Renjiro and Gran Torino's training mishaps, All Might's early blunders. "That time Torino tackled you into the river," Renjiro chuckled, "you came up spitting mad!"All Might groaned. "Don't remind me! But it taught me balance. You two were a handful."Arata half-listened, his mind on his mission. All Might doesn't know One For All can transfer. I do. All For One's after it. He stayed quiet, letting their laughter fill the air, a rare glimpse into Renjiro's past.Later, back home, Arata sat at his desk, Dad's blueprint—a gadget from his I-Island days—gleaming under the lamp. The old man worked quietly downstairs, his hero heart alive in every line he drew. Arata wrote in his journal: All Might's training Deku 'cause he sees his own flame. Renjiro and Gran Torino knew him—didn't expect that. All Might doesn't get how his quirk passes, but I know it's One For All. All For One wants it. I'll protect Deku.A memory surfaced—Renjiro skipping a U.S. mission because Arata was born, an ambush planned. He added: Grandpa dodged a U.S. mission for me. Villains set an ambush, maybe All For One's network. Mitsushi Tomi was there—what's his part? He sketched a rough map: Renjiro's choice, the ambush, All Might's quirk mystery. Grandpa's survival shifted things. All For One's plan might've changed.Downstairs, he found Dad at the kitchen table, sketching another blueprint. "Hey, Dad," Arata said, leaning against the doorframe.Dad looked up, his eyes warm behind his glasses. "Arata. Training hard?""Yeah. Air-step's getting better. Those kids' trust—Hana, the festival boy—it's helping."Dad smiled faintly. "Good. Your mother would've loved seeing that. She always said trust was a hero's real power."Arata nodded. "What about you? I-Island must've been wild."Dad chuckled, setting his pencil down. "Oh, it was. Long hours, crazy projects—shields for pros, gadgets for rescues. But when you came, I couldn't stay. Wanted to be home. Still tinker here, though. Keeps me grounded.""Like a hero?" Arata asked, curious."Something like that," Dad said, his tone soft. "Your grandfather was the flashy one. I just build."Arata grinned. "You're both heroes to me."Dad ruffled his hair, a rare gesture. "Keep that spirit, son. U.A.'s waiting."Outside, Arata practiced again, the evening sky deepening. Riku's ember pulsed, Dad's clarity steadied him, kid sparks lifted his leaps. He air-stepped, soaring higher, the city blurring below. Landing softly, he felt Izuku's trust grow. Deku's flame will burn with One For All. I'll shield him from All For One. He thought of Renjiro's gruff pride, All Might's belief. I'm not alone.Back at his desk, he wrote: Dad's a hero at heart, even now. Renjiro's past with Torino and All Might—ties to One For All? All For One's shadow grows. I'll stop him, save the deaths. U.A.'s next. He closed the journal, glancing at Riku's photo—her smile a beacon. Hope flickered, a spark catching fire. I'm ready.
