The Honored One (MHA)

Kyle—or Satoru, as everyone now called him—had come to terms with being a baby. Sort of. It wasn't like he had much of a choice.

At first, the sheer helplessness had been maddening. Every time he wanted something, he had to scream and cry, relying on his parents to figure it out. Hungry? Cry. Cold? Cry. Bored? You guessed it—cry. And the worst part? His tiny, noodle-like body refused to cooperate no matter how much he tried to move it.

Still, he was learning to adapt. After all, he wasn't just any baby.

His parents were Hiroto and Aoi Gojo, members of a family so powerful and influential it might as well have been royalty. Their sprawling mansion wasn't just a home; it was a fortress, complete with a private training ground, quirk-testing labs, and enough security to make Fort Knox jealous.

Every day, he overheard snippets of conversations. Words like "legacy," "potential," and "next in line" floated around constantly. The Gojos took their name—and their quirks—seriously.

Even at two years old, Satoru could tell he wasn't being raised like a normal child. His parents didn't coddle him, though they were affectionate in their own way. His mother would fuss over him when he scraped his knee, but she'd also say things like, "You'll heal quickly. Gojos don't cry over small things."

His father was even more direct. "Strength is everything, Satoru," he'd say during one of their walks around the courtyard. "Our family exists to stand above the rest. You'll understand when you're older."

Satoru didn't need to understand. He already knew.

He was born into a family of powerhouses. And thanks to the system—and the insane abilities it had gifted him—he was already stronger than most of them.

His first display of power came entirely by accident.

It was a sunny afternoon, and his cousins had gathered at the courtyard for a "friendly" sparring match. In Gojo terms, that meant throwing each other around with their quirks while the adults watched and critiqued.

Satoru sat on a small blanket in the shade, chewing absently on a teething ring while pretending not to be interested. He was watching, though—intently. Every blast of energy, every ripple of space, every barrier created by his cousins' quirks. He analyzed it all with the sharp focus of someone who had seen hundreds of battles in anime and games.

One of his cousins, a boy named Riku, was showing off again. Riku was a teenager with a powerful spatial distortion quirk. He could create twisting, shimmering ripples in the air that bent attacks or even reflected them back at their source. He loved to brag about how "complex" his quirk was and how much control it required.

Satoru thought it was flashy but inefficient.

"Watch this!" Riku yelled, forming a glowing sphere of energy in his hands. He turned toward Satoru with a grin that was supposed to be friendly but came off as annoyingly smug. "Think fast, little guy!"

The sphere shot toward Satoru before anyone could react.

For a brief moment, time seemed to slow.

Satoru's instincts kicked in, and without even thinking, he raised a chubby hand. The air around him shimmered faintly, and the energy blast stopped inches from his face, suspended as if it had hit an invisible wall.

The courtyard fell silent.

Everyone froze, their eyes locked on the floating sphere. Satoru tilted his head, studying it curiously. It felt warm, humming faintly with energy, but it didn't scare him. If anything, he was fascinated.

He waved his hand again, and the sphere dissolved into harmless sparks.

For a moment, no one spoke. Then his father broke the silence with a booming laugh.

"Now that's what I like to see!" Hiroto clapped his hands together, his expression full of pride. "Our boy's got talent!"

Aoi wasn't so thrilled. She scooped Satoru up and began inspecting him for any signs of injury, her hands trembling slightly. "Riku," she said, her voice dangerously calm, "what were you thinking?"

Riku, who had turned pale as a ghost, stammered. "I-I didn't think he'd actually—"

"Exactly," Aoi snapped. "You didn't think. What if the attack had gone through? He's a child!"

"It wouldn't have gone through," Satoru said suddenly, his two-year-old voice garbled but clear enough. He gave Riku a toothy grin. "I'm better than you."

The courtyard erupted into laughter.

Even Aoi, though clearly exasperated, couldn't hide the hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "You're impossible," she muttered, holding him closer.

From that day on, no one doubted Satoru's potential.

Over the next few months, Satoru's parents began introducing him to basic training. Nothing too intense—he was still a toddler—but enough to start honing his natural instincts. They thought his abilities were an advanced blend of their quirks, but Satoru knew better.

The system had already given him access to the basics of Limitless, the foundation of his powers. Every day, it presented him with challenges to complete, each one designed to help him master his abilities step by step.

Challenge: Create a small spatial barrier.

Reward: 10 System Points.

Challenge: Hold an object in suspended space for 5 seconds.

Reward: 20 System Points.

The challenges were simple at first, but they grew more complex as he completed them. Every success earned him points, which he could use to unlock new abilities or upgrade existing ones. It was like leveling up in a video game, except the stakes were very real.

Satoru didn't tell his parents about the system. Not because he didn't trust them, but because he didn't see the point. They already thought he was a prodigy, and the last thing he needed was more pressure.

Besides, the system was his secret weapon. It gave him an edge, a way to stay ahead of everyone else in the Gojo household—and, eventually, the entire world.

One night, as he sat in the courtyard under the stars, the system presented him with a new challenge.

Challenge: Unlock the Six Eyes.

Reward: Enhanced Perception.

Satoru's heart skipped a beat.

The Six Eyes. He'd been waiting for this. The ability wasn't just part of Gojo Satoru's arsenal—it was one of the most broken powers in existence. If Limitless was the sword, the Six Eyes was the ultimate guide.

He grinned, excitement bubbling up in his chest.

"Alright," he muttered. "Let's do this."

It sounded simple enough, but the moment he tried, he was hit with a wave of dizziness. It felt like his brain was being plugged into a supercomputer running at full capacity. Every sound, every movement, every tiny shift in the air became blindingly clear.

The world opened up in ways he couldn't describe. He could see the faint shimmer of his mother's quirk energy as she walked past, the subtle distortions in space left behind by his father's earlier training, and even the tiny crack in a nearby stone pillar.

For a moment, he thought he might pass out. But then the dizziness faded, replaced by a clarity so sharp it was almost painful.

The world looked the same, but different. Colors were brighter, edges sharper, and everything seemed to glow faintly, like it was outlined in energy. He could feel the flow of space itself, the subtle shifts and currents that most people couldn't even begin to comprehend.

Satoru let out a soft laugh, his lips curving into a smug grin.

"This... this is going to be fun."