Izumi was glaring again.
Not that that was all too unusual- the young greenette glared at a lot of things. So much so that her parents had fallen upon the age-old trick of insisting her face would get stuck that way in a futile attempt to lessen the frequency (and intensity) of said glaring.
Of course, it hadn't worked, but it was the principle of the matter.
However, in this particular case, the glaring was not only a result of the object of her ire-
It was also a teensy bit of frustration.
'Now I know how the Brat felt.' Izumi cursed silently to herself, scowling up at the entirely-too-bloody-tall counter and the gentle wafts of chocolate-chip-cookie scented steam that hovered just-so-irritatingly out of reach.
She just wanted one single cookie, dammit! Was that too much to ask?
Strictly speaking, probably, considering Izumi's mother had already confirmed that she could have one after she'd eaten her dinner- but Izumi was biologically four and she wanted the damn cookie.
Izumi's scowly pout deepened, her glare intensifying as though that might convince the counter to spring to life and shrink down to a size where she could reach the tray of cooling deliciousness.
Of course, even in this world where Quirks could break reality in ways that had the miniaturized Alchemist cursing whatever annoying deity had decided it would be a good idea to reincarnate her here, the likelyhood of the counter obeying Izumi's wishes without the use of Alchemy were slim to none.
As much as Izumi despised the logistics of Quirks and society's complete and utter apathy to how they functioned, they existed; and until she was at a physical stage where she could look into the subject herself, she was stuck 'accepting' the knowledge she already had.
Which meant that, in accordance with the frankly stupid and unscientific statements on Quirk development, she would probably end up with some variation of her parents' abilities, if she got one at all.
Neither of her parent's Quirks were exceptionally flashy, either, so it wasn't much of a surprise she hadn't really managed to make the connection between the odder happenings of the house with pseudoscientific hogwash until Mitsuki has proverbially beaten her over the head with it.
Izumi's mother had a Quirk she called 'Recall,' which allowed her mind to process and store all information she processed without any loss of data. Useful enough for her profession as a historian, and plenty useful for her part-time job with the police department.
At some level, Izumi wondered if the remembrance of her past life stemmed from her mother's quirk.
The so-called 'genius' of the Gate had given her a similarly sharp memory back then, however, and if Alchemy was possible here as Izumi suspected, then it was just as likely that the continued existence of her memory was a result of the ability somehow transferring through lifetimes.
Illogical and annoyingly vague, true, but Izumi didn't have much else in the way of ideas.
Izumi's father, on the other hand, had a quirk called 'Magnetic Link,' which allowed him to magnetise any metallic object, or with severe concentration, himself. He could only magnetize two to five objects at a time, though, and the charge weakened depending on the type of metal and size of the object. At absolute best, he could stick fridge magnets to his skin; and he rarely if ever used it anyhow- he was a fiction writer.
In any case, no combination of memory and magnetisation could grant Izumi the ability to give life to the counter, or any other kitchen appliance; no matter how much she wanted a cookie.
Which, quite frankly, was annoying.
If people could spontaneously combust at will, then she should be able to get a cookie to come to her when she asked, dammit!
Izumi let out a short growl, and in a fit of childishness, made grabby hands at the cookie tray; futility wishing that one of the treats would fly through the air and into her grasp-
Only for one to shoot off the tray at high speed and smack her in the face.
Izumi blinked.
The cookie slowly slid down her expressionless face, dropping into her hands with a soft thunk as she stared blankly at the cabinetry.
What.
The.
Actual-
"AAAAAARRRGH!"
"...Was that Inko-chan?"
"...I'll go see what happened. Go back to work dear."
"COMPLETELY ILLOGICAL-!"
"...on second thought, maybe we should wait until she calms down a bit."
So.
Izumi could break the laws of reality.
Apparently.
The mere idea that she could- could- summon things to her without much more than a thought and a grabby hand motion went against everything she knew and understood about Alchemy and the world around her.
But it worked.
For some reason.
After the first… incident… with her… Quirk- and the subsequent hour long screaming fit that had ensued, Izumi had begun minor experimentation to figure out just what she could and could not do with this… ability- and the answer had been... surprising.
She couldn't lift anything larger than a notebook without earning herself a severe migraine headache that left her parents fussing and worried for weeks on end. Even a few inches larger or grams heavier than that notebook-limit and she would be completely out of commission for a day or more.
That determined, Izumi concluded quite firmly that large objects were clearly out of the question. Smaller objects, on the other had, seemed to have no adverse effects, even if she decided to pull more than one at a time. Small toys, loose change, and cookies were improbably simple to retrieve, just a thought and a soft tug and they would arrive in her hands without fanfare.
….Unless she pulled too fast and her aim failed her. She'd gotten a black eye that way, and Mitsuki had sniggered at her for a full week afterwards.
Then she'd started to try pulling multiple objects at the same time. She'd started small for that experiment. Extremely small. Dust bunnies, specifically.
A simple grab and a thought brought a small army of the things marching out from under the couch and into a dustpan Izumi had procured from a cabinet she wasn't technically supposed to be able to get into.
(Child locks were insulting to her intelligence. Honestly, they were entirely too simple to pick.)
Summoning the dust bunny army had been so simple. In fact, it had actually been easier than lifting a single, larger object.
Izumi made it a habit to summon all the dust in a room directly into the trash can whenever she walked by one. It was incredibly simple for her to do so, and there was no way to tell that it had happened in the first place, especially if she went for the smallest particles that qualified as 'dust.'
It made her wonder just how small she could go.
I just a few more months, once she turned five, she would be old enough to begin Alchemy training again.
If she could use her Quirk to pull the molecules she needed into range, she could theoretically make it seem like she was summoning whatever she made from thin air.
Or create things at concentrations that were simply not feasible with Alchemy alone.
In theory, she could even pull singular atoms. Electrons and protons.
Provided she could locate it, she could potentially pull and manipulate the fabric of reality.
She could literally perform nuclear fission on a whim, and with little more effort than a wave of her hand.
That amount of power at her fingertips was oddly humbling in a way Alchemy had never been.
Of course, that didn't mean she wasn't going to exploit the hell out of it. Being an Alchemist required a certain amount of pragmatism, after all.
AN: Hey everyone! Sorry it's taken me so long to update! I've been completely swamped with college classes up until this last weekend, and I haven't had much time to do anything with this fic.
On a side note- I have been working on a couple other fics that will have much longer chapters than this one- although neither will be posted for a while. One actually doesn't even have a confirmed name yet!
But rest assured, I have been doing stuff.
The comments I've been getting from you all are lovely, and I really appriciate your continued interest in this fic! I read them all, whenever I get one on either site I post this fic on, and all of you are completely wonderful.