Just deserts: Revised edition

Higawara Manor, Musutafu.

"Hey, buddy," Uncle Sajin said, "Enjoying your birthday? It's not every day that you turn six, you know?"

You didn't turn any age every single day, and I couldn't imagine a situation where that would be the case—what a strange thing to say. Despite not really knowing what he had meant by it, I found myself smiling anyway.

"Uncle Sajin," I said, "You got the day off."

"I did," Uncle Sajin said, "Almost didn't happen, but I pulled a few strings—now, what's this I hear about you turning into sand, huh? Taking after the handsome side of the family, I see."

I'd seen the family pictures of my father, Uncle Sajin, and Aunt Hayami together when they were younger—all three of them had blonde hair and blue eyes. My father, like Uncle Sajin, had a sand-related quirk, but my mother had a quirk that involved mist. I knew from memory and from the pictures of my mother that sat on the mantle place downstairs that I looked far more like her, with dark hair, eyes, and a pale complexion. From what I could tell, both sides of the family were handsome, but he had made the comment in relation to my quirkappearing—which left me having absolutely no idea what Uncle Sajin meant or which side of the family he was talking about.

"I scared Hayami," I said, taking the safe bet. "Nanami, too, afterwards."

Uncle Sajin cracked a smile at the words, the large, bushy moustache wiggling about above his lip as his face transformed from the expression—he had those lines in the corners of his mouth that Nanami said came from smiling a lot.

"You made her cry again, huh?" Uncle Sajin said, shaking his head. "It's like clockwork."

Unable to help myself, I ended up mouthing Uncle Sajin's catchphrase under my breath, at which point he reached down and patted me on the head.

"I'll try to do better," I promised.

"That's all any of us can do, Hisoka," Uncle Sajin said in agreement. "Keep that mindset, and you'll know I'm proud of you—okay, buddy?"

It wasn't the first time he'd said something like that, and I still wasn't really sure what it meant, but somehow, I knew that it was something that I wanted—I wanted him to be proud of me, and if trying to be better was all it took, then I would do it.

"Okay, Uncle Sajin," I said.

"I'll have to set aside some time every day to show you the ropes," Uncle Sajin said, "There are a few things I've learnt about my quirk that I wish I'd started on when I was much younger—have you tried anything with it yet?"

"I filled my room up with sand," I said, "But Aunt Hayami told me not to do anything else until you spoke to me."

"The whole room? That's a lot of sand for someone just starting out," Uncle Sajin said with interest. "Do you think you could make more than that?"

I thought about the question and what I'd seen so far—there had been so much sand at the beach that I was sure that I could affect farmore than what I had managed to squeeze into my bedroom, but I wasn't sure I had the control to make sure it did what I wanted.

"I think I can make a lot more," I said.

"Yeah?" Uncle Sajin said, scratching his chin in thought. "It's your entire body, isn't it, not just the top half?"

I nodded at the words, and Uncle Sajin hummed in the back of his throat, eyes searching the rooftops stretching out in front of us. The voices from inside the house grew louder for a moment, and I sent a glance back at the glass sliding door, certain I'd just heard Nanami—when had they arrived?

"We'll make a trip to the beach out of it in the next couple of days," Uncle Sajin decided. "Now, why are you out here, anyway—wait, let me guess, there were too many people in the house."

"I was going to—" I said.

Nanami's voice rang out from inside the house as she called out at the top of her lungs, the noise passing through the closed balcony door without fading even a fraction—it was so loud that it came out distorted, and I could only guess that she was saying my name.

"It's like clockwork," Uncle Sajin said, laughing again. "Come on, you better not make her celebrate your birthday on her own, or she might start crying again."

Higawara Manor, Musutafu.

Nanami's voice floated up the stairs and under the gap beneath my bedroom door, the excited twist to her voice heralding her arrival. The voices I associated with Hiroshi and Kana followed a moment later, quieter and without quite as much excitement but still oddly energised. I began absorbing all of the sand I had spread out throughout the room at the sound of the furious footfalls progressing up the staircase, already knowing their destination. I moved to stand in the middle of the room, ready to wait for the door to burst open—Nanami almost stumbled as the door swung inwards faster than she had intended, but the almost mistake did nothing to sap her energy.

"Hisoka," Nanami said, beaming. "Guess what?"

Considering that her quirk appointment had been scheduled for today—something I'd heard about multiple times since she had found out herself—and that she was so obviously excited, the most reasonable explanation was that her previously unknown quirk had finally been identified. I almost spoke up, but then I considered a future in which I made her cry by upsetting her intention to reveal it to me.

"Hi, Nanami," I said before pausing. "I don't know; what is it?"

Nanami preened at the question, twisting her hands behind her back as she rocked back and forth on her heels.

"I found out what my quirk is," Nanami said, her smile bright. "Finally."

It was a rather timely occurrence, given that the school year would be starting again in only a couple of days. Now, at least, she wouldn't have to feel bad whenever someone asked after her quirk. This also meant that my own start of school was arriving, and for the first time, we would be attending the same school together, something that Uncle Sajin had made clear to me already—namely, to make sure that I understood that because we were in different age groups, we wouldn't be sharing the same classes or teachers. I wasn't sure Nanami had realised that part yet, but perhaps that was why he had told me, so I could have more time to prepare for the eventual realisation.

"Congratulations," I said, "What does it do?"

My interest in the question was entirely genuine because quirks were far more interesting than most of the things I had interacted with—she had been right; flying horses were cool, but the reason for that was because they could do something that was unusual, uncommon, or even unique—either way, Nanami beamed at the interest.

"It's an amp—li—fi—cation quirk," Nanami said, the clearly rehearsed word coming out in a steady staccato of syllables. "Pretty cool, huh?"

I'd never heard the word before, so I didn't really know if it was cool or not, but my interest in the topic grew further—reading was good, but finding out the meaning of new words was better.

"Very cool," I said, "What does amplificationmean?"

Nanami pouted as I repeated the word back to her without breaking it up into its component pieces.

"It means that I can make other people's quirks better—that's what the doctor said," Nanami said, turning her nose up. "He even said that I'm going to become really popular in the future."

I would accept that the meaning of the word was what she said it was, but I would have to look it up later just to make sure because there had been several times when she had been wrong about things like this.

"I think you're really popular now, Nanami," I said, "I'm glad you got your quirk."

I was glad because it had seemed to be a very sore topic for her and one that had frequently ended with her crying.

"Thanks, I'm super lucky to get such a good one," Nanami said, planting her hands on her hips, "And—and—and one day I'm going to use it to become an amazing hero, just like your uncle."

"Do you want to become a hero, Nanami?" I asked.

"Yes," Nanami said, beaming. "You have to become a hero too, and then we can make a team—we'll become super famous and save the whole world together, okay?"

The whole world sounded like a rather large place, and I wondered what we would save it from or if it even needed saving in the first place.

"Okay, Nanami." I agreed. "Let's save the world."

Nanami's eyes sparkled.