MHA: LAW OF MOTION

CHAPTER FOUR

I woke up to the rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor and the sensation of something cold and invasive stuck to my arm. The harsh, unmistakable stench of antiseptic filled my nostrils. My eyelids felt heavy, but I forced them open. Above me was a stark white ceiling, the fluorescent lights buzzing softly, casting a sterile glow over everything.

A hospital.

I turned my head slightly, wincing at the dull ache that radiated through my body. There were tubes attached to my arms, feeding me some kind of nutrient solution. My throat was dry, lips chapped. I tried to sit up, but a dull pain flared in my chest, forcing me to stop.

Right. The store. The robbery.

Everything came flooding back at once.

A soft creak cut through the silence as the door opened. Footsteps approached hesitantly before stopping near my bedside. I forced my gaze to shift, and the moment I saw them, my sluggish mind jolted awake.

My mother had walked in, followed closely by my brother. He looked like a mess—red, swollen eyes, tear-streaked face. The moment our eyes met, fresh tears welled up, and he clenched his fists, trying to keep himself together.

He let out a shaky breath, his fists clenching at his sides before he turned away, pressing his sleeve against his face in a feeble attempt to hide his tears.

In response to that, I gave a strained smile, trying to convey that I was well. That it was okay to cry.

My mother, on the other hand, stood there, eyes red and swollen, her hands trembling as she clutched the fabric of her coat.

She walked up to me, her eyes tracing my face as if memorizing every detail. Her hand trembled as she brushed my cheek, and then, as if something inside her snapped, she broke down completely. Sobs wracked her body as she clutched my hand like I would disappear if she let go.

I didn't know how to react.

For years prior, I had refused to acknowledge her. I had distanced myself, buried my emotions, ignored the fact that she was my mother. And now? Now she was here, crying over me like I was the most precious thing in the world.

Something twisted in my chest. Guilt? Regret? I didn't know.

"…How's Dad?" My voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.

She sucked in a sharp breath and squeezed my hand tighter, her sobs quieting for a moment before returning even harder. She couldn't even answer me.

That was all I needed to know. My stomach dropped.

A lump formed in my throat, but I swallowed it down. I couldn't afford to break down. Not now.

The door opened again, and a doctor walked in, taking in the scene before calling out to my mom.

"Mrs. Hayami, outside, please."

She hesitated for a moment before wiping her face and stepping outside with him.

My brother and I were left alone in silence. He sniffled, rubbing at his eyes.

"…I thought you died," he muttered, voice shaking. "I thought you were gonna die too."

I didn't know what to say to that, so I just looked at him.

He wiped his nose and punched my arm—nowhere near as hard as he usually would, but enough to get his frustration across.

"You idiot."

I huffed out a small laugh, but it faded quickly. My mind was racing.

My father… he was either in a coma or—

No. I wasn't going to think about that right now.

The doctor returned after a while, stepping inside and adjusting his glasses as he approached me.

"Rio, correct?"

I gave a slow nod.

"You've been out for a few days. Your body has undergone significant stress." He paused, flipping through a clipboard. "More importantly… your Quirk awakened."

I blinked. "…What?"

"Your mother informed us about what happened. From what we can tell, your Quirk is an enhancement-type ability—but one that is highly damaging to your body. Your muscles were severely strained, and your vitals fluctuated abnormally." He looked at me seriously. "If you push yourself too hard, your body may not be able to handle it."

Enhancement type… but that wasn't all, was it?

I remembered that feeling. That strange stillness. The overwhelming surge of energy. And then—golden lightning. Just for a brief moment, right before I blacked out.

The doctor continued talking, but my mind was elsewhere.

This wasn't just some simple enhancement Quirk. It was something more. Something incredible.

For the first time in a long time, a spark of excitement lit up inside me.

The doctor wrapped up his explanation, advising my family to let me rest. As soon as he left, a couple of nurses came in to check on me and clean up the room. They worked quietly, occasionally whispering to each other.

"Poor kid… I heard his Quirk awakened."

"Yeah, but it's just some enhancement type. And it's already wrecking his body? That's rough."

Their words stung more than I wanted to admit. I clenched my fists under the blanket, irritation bubbling beneath my skin.

They didn't know anything.

They had no idea what I had experienced, what I had felt.

This wasn't just some weak Quirk.

I knew it.

I wasn't sure how long I lay there, lost in thought, but eventually, a week passed, and I was discharged. I had expected my body to take longer to recover, considering the condition I had been in, but the medical technology in this world was something else.

Black technology.

That was the only way I could describe it. What should have taken months of rehabilitation had been condensed into days.

Still, as I stepped out of the hospital in fresh clothes, feeling the sun on my skin, I couldn't help but marvel at it.

Meanwhile, back at the hospital…

Two doctors stood in a quiet office, reviewing Rio's case file. One of them, the attending physician from earlier, tapped a pen against his clipboard.

"An acceleration-type Quirk… yet his healing rate was remarkable," he murmured. "Far beyond what it should be capable of."

His colleague frowned, leaning over the documents. "The closest known Quirk with a similar effect was nowhere near this broad."

The first doctor exhaled, rubbing his chin in thought. "I don't know what's going on with that boy… but something about his Quirk doesn't add up."

They fell into silence, staring at the test results before them.

Something about Rio Hayami wasn't normal.

They may have underestimated him with that faulty evaluation.

A month later.

"What do you mean it's not covered? We pay our premiums every month!"

A pause.

"What? No, we specifically asked for full coverage!"

Her grip on the phone tightened. "This is my son's life we're talking about! You can't just—Hello? Hello!?"

She pulled the phone away, staring at it as the call disconnected. For a moment, she stood there, completely still, before inhaling deeply and exhaling shakily.

She turned to us with a forced smile, eyes betraying her exhaustion. "Don't worry. I'll handle it."

Neither of us believed her.

That night, as I passed by her room, I heard it.

Soft, muffled sobs.

"…David… what do I do…?"

I stood there, hand hovering near the door, my chest tightening.

But in the end, I walked away.

Silent.

The next day saw Rio kneeling in a seiza position. He lit the candles solemnly as he looked up at his father's portrait.

He sighed as he stood up immediately.

He immediately took a step outside.

The morning air was crisp, the chill biting against my skin as I stood in the backyard. My breath curled in the air, dissolving into the pale light of dawn.

I flexed my fingers, the anticipation crawling beneath my skin. Today, I was going to try again.

Closing my eyes, I inhaled deeply. The memory of that golden flash lingered in my mind—the raw, electric surge that had torn through me that day. I wanted to feel it again.

I focused, reaching for that sensation.

The world snapped.

A violent force crashed into my body like a tidal wave, and agony followed right after. Every nerve screamed, my muscles locked, my lungs seized, and for a moment—just a moment—I was sure I was about to die.

Then it was gone.

I stumbled forward, catching myself against the wall, gasping for breath. My vision swam, dark spots bleeding into the edges.

"…What the hell are you doing?"

I turned my head slightly, my pulse still hammering in my ears.

Takeru stood by the sliding door, arms crossed, watching me with an unreadable expression. I hadn't even noticed him there.

I wiped the sweat off my brow, exhaling sharply. "Trying to figure this thing out."

He didn't reply immediately. He stepped closer, looking me over before speaking again. "And?"

"It's not going very well" I hesitated. "It's… acceleration-related, I think."

"That's vague."

"I don't know what else to tell you," I muttered. "I tried activating it, but it nearly kills me every time."

Takeru studied me for a long moment, his fingers tapping against his arm. "…What exactly happens when you use it?"

I thought back to the sensation—the overwhelming rush, the pressure, the way my body couldn't seem to handle it. "It's like… everything speeds up all at once. My body, my mind—everything. But it's too much. I can't control it, it lasts only for an instant and it burns through me like fire."

Takeru was silent for a beat. Then, his lips pressed into a thin line. "Maybe you don't need to use all of it at once."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

He tilted his head slightly. "A second is all it takes to determine the outcome of a fight. If you can make one second stretch, even a little, wouldn't that be enough?"

I blinked.

One second.

I opened my mouth, but he was already turning away.

"You'll figure it out," he said simply, heading back inside.

I watched him go, my mind replaying his words.

A second is all it takes.

I never thought about it like that. I had been treating this like an all-or-nothing gamble, but what if I wasn't supposed to? What if I could control it—use only a fraction of its power?

I could do this. From the core of my navel traveling in a cycle around my body. Focus it all in one single burst.

The thought sent a surge of determination through me.

I clenched my fists, focused, and activated it for just an instant.

The world flickered.

The wind slowed. Dust hung in the air.

A single moment stretched before me—no longer an instant, but something I could perceive. Maybe ten frames, maybe more. And yet, I could still tell it was just a moment.

I gasped, my chest rising and falling rapidly, but this time—it didn't feel unbearable.

A slow grin crept onto my face.

I could work with this.

If I could isolate the effect—if I could just speed up my thoughts instead of my whole body—then maybe, just maybe, I could control it.

That would be my next goal.