Hikaru knew how this story was supposed to go—he'd read the comics, watched the shows—but nowhere in any version had there been a half-angel son of the ex-ruler of Hell forced into joining the Teen Titans by his superhero mother. Which meant canon was in tatters before he could even walk, and he had no real desire to piece it back together.
Though he didn't awaken his past life's memories until thirteen, Hikaru knew this knowledge gave him an advantage. If his two lives had taught him anything, it was that second chances were rare—and wasting this one was out of the question.
The morning sun caught the edges of Jump City's skyline, all gleaming glass and steel, as Kimiyo navigated through traffic with the same meticulousness she brought to everything. Hikaru slouched in the passenger seat, one arm propped against the window, watching the unfamiliar city roll past.
The silence between them wasn't uncomfortable—he'd grown use to it over the years. But Hikaru could feel the weight of something unsaid pressing against the quiet, manifesting in the way his mother's fingers tapped against the steering wheel.
"I know you're against this and you value your independence," Kimiyo said finally breaking the silence, eyes still fixed on the road ahead, "but if you're dead set on following in my footsteps, you need to be careful. Hero work isn't something you can just rush into."
Hikaru turned his gaze back to the window, watching a billboard for some tech company blur past as he let out a sigh. "I know. But independence is kinda my thing. I take after my parents in that aspect."
That earned him a small smile from Kimiyo—barely visible, but Hikaru had gotten good at catching those rare expressions. "Yes, you do. And I'm both thankful and regretful for that. But just give it a chance. Meet them, and then make the final decision. I've looked into the team—they're all good kids, and they do good work. It'll be easier for you to have people to watch your back when you're out in the field." She paused, merging into the right lane. "And I'll rest easier knowing you're not alone out there when I'm not around to keep an eye on you, which regretfully is more frequent than I'd like to admit. So just humor me, give this whole thing a shot. A real one."
Hikaru shifted in his seat, turning to look at her properly. His mother's profile was illuminated by the morning light filtering through the windows—serious, composed, the same face that had appeared in countless news reports and League briefings as the superhero Dr. Light. But there was something softer there now.
"Alright, alright," he said, letting his usual grin slip into place. "We already came all this way—a little late to turn back now. Plus, humor is kinda my thing too, though I'm not sure who I took after on that one. Definitely not you. Maybe the old, old man, though his is a bit outdated for my tastes."
Kimiyo's smile widened fractionally, her version of laughing. "Mine too. And thanks for indulging me." She pulled up to the curb in front of Jump City High, the building jutting out from behind wrought-iron gates and carefully maintained landscaping. "I'll call you after work. And remember, though it may not always seem like it—you're the most important person in my life and I truly love you."
Hikaru raised his eyebrows in mock surprise, one hand pressed dramatically against his chest. "Whoa, are you getting sentimental on me? The old man must be freezing his ass off."
"Language!" Kimiyo's sharp tone was undercut by the way her eyes crinkled at the corners. "And get going before you're late on your first day."
"Alright, alright." Hikaru grabbed his backpack from the floor, shouldering it as he pushed the door open. The morning air hit him, carrying the salt-tang of the ocean and the distant sounds of city traffic.
He paused before shutting the door, leaning back down to look through the open window. His mother had already turned her attention forward, ever practical, but Hikaru caught her glancing back at him from the corner of her eye.
"And for the record—I love you too."
He shut the door with a mischievous smile, stepping back onto the pavement. Through the window, he saw Kimiyo shake her head, but a small smile appeared on her face—the kind she probably thought he couldn't see.
Hikaru lifted his hand in a wave as she pulled away from the curb. She waved back, her eyes finding him in the rearview mirror one last time before traffic swallowed her car.
He stood there for a moment, backpack strap digging into his shoulder weighed down by a full curriculum's worth of books, staring at the spot where she'd disappeared. Then he turned toward the school, taking in the sprawling campus with its clusters of students already gathering near the entrance.
Jump City High. New city, new school, new team waiting for him somewhere out there in that ridiculous tower shaped like a T. At least the commute's not bad when you can fly
Hikaru adjusted his bag and started walking, golden eyes assessing the crowd as he passed, a habit born from his previous life and honed in this one.
The inside of Jump City High reminded Hikaru of his past life, it was starkly different when compared to his school in Japan, but the architecture of teenage chaos was universal. Lockers lined the hallways in neat rows, their metal surfaces plastered with stickers and posters advertising everything from the upcoming dance to volleyball tryouts. Students clustered in groups, their conversations creating a constant buzz of noise that echoed off the linoleum floors.
Hikaru navigated through it all with practiced ease, golden eyes tracking the flow of traffic as he made his way toward the main office. A few heads turned as he passed—nothing unusual. He'd gotten used to the stares years ago, chalked it up to his almost supernatural good looks inherited from his father. Perks of being half-angel, he supposed.
The office receptionist barely looked up as she handed him a schedule and a hastily photocopied map of the school. "Room 204. Second floor, east wing. Try not to be late."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Hikaru said giving her a smile, already turning toward the stairs.
The classroom was easy enough to find. He paused outside the door, adjusting the strap of his backpack one more time before pushing it open.
Twenty-something pairs of eyes immediately swiveled toward him.
The teacher—a middle-aged woman with graying hair pulled back in a severe bun—looked up from her desk, her expression brightening with recognition. "Ah, you must be our transfer student." She gestured for him to come forward, her voice carrying easily over the curious murmurs spreading through the room. "Class, this is Hikaru Hoshi. Please make him feel welcome."
A scattered chorus of "hey" and "hi" rippled through the classroom, punctuated by a few whispered conversations that Hikaru's enhanced hearing caught without trying.
"—cute—"
"—is he single—"
"—heard he's from Japan—"
Mostly disinterest, though. Just another new face in a city that saw plenty of them, especially with the Teen Titans drawing attention and trouble in equal measure.
Hikaru offered a casual wave to the room, his trademark grin sliding into place. "Thanks for having me."
The teacher nodded, already consulting her seating chart. "Let's see... you can take the seat in the back, next to Ms. Roth."
Hikaru's mind halted momentarily when he registered the surname Roth, his eyes tracked across the classroom, following the teacher's gesture toward the far corner.
And surprisingly there she was.
Violet hair cut in a short bob, partially obscured by the hood of her cloak pulled up despite being indoors. Pale skin that seemed to drink in the fluorescent lighting rather than reflect it. A thick book propped open on her desk, pages filled with text that looked far too dense for casual reading. She didn't look up as Hikaru started down the aisle, didn't acknowledge his approach at all.
The air around her practically hummed with a "don't talk to me" energy that would've sent most people running in the opposite direction.
That's quicker than expected, Hikaru thought, sliding into the empty seat beside her. First Titan found and it's not even lunch.