Most children saw light as soon as they were born. The baby saw only darkness. With the wetness around him, he could not even tell that he was no longer in the womb. He felt hungry. Reacting on instinct, he sank his mouth down, but received only cold flesh in return, not the milk he instinctively sought. Then the rats came.

The baby had never felt pain before. When the first teeth drove into his skin, he wailed with lungs unused to open air.

Oh, no. No, no, no! I'm dead! And you're dying. Fuck. You need to get in the water. Can you hear me? Grab your brother! What am I saying, you can't understand me. You were just born.

Though the baby could not yet understand human speech, the terror and urgency in her tone made him wail louder.

Then something strange happened. The baby's hand moved under someone else's control, latching onto a tiny wrist. It was the same creature who had always been nestled close to him even in the womb, that tiny weak thing. The rats were biting into the smaller one as well.

Good, I can move your body. We're going into the river. The rats won't follow. I'm sorry if this hurts. I'm sorry if you don't survive. As a mother, I'm doing my best for you and your brother. I'm sorry my best is so inadequate.

The same force took control of the baby's limbs. He leapt into the river, dragging the little one with him. It was cold. The water burned, getting into his throat and eyes. But he lived.

For a time, the baby got dragged around by the commands he could not understand. The world outside the womb was unpleasant. The sensation of being jerked around like a puppet felt especially bad. For the rest of his life, he would have an intense distaste for being controlled (or even self-control). But the voice in his head kept him alive. He would always remember that part.

Whatever to do? I've got to get you both to a hospital. It's a miracle you're alive. I wonder if the weird illness that killed me gave you stronger bodies. Though your brother is in bad shape. Can you understand me even a little? Food, shelter, in that direction. I need you to be brave, my sweet baby boy. I need you to crawl.

The sound meant nothing to the baby. But he understood the feelings flowing through him, of food and warmth. He felt the pull to move.

You've gotta drag your little brother along. He can't crawl. Please, I'm begging you. You're the stronger one. I need you to look after him. Take his hand.

Strong emotion pushed images into his mind. The little thing next to him was…brother? Little brother? It became the first word the baby knew. Slowly, the baby reached out and grabbed the much smaller wrist. This was his brother. This belonged to him. One-armed, he began to crawl.

I'm going to give you names. It's too pitiful if you die without even being named. Even if no one knows except me. I wonder what I am? A ghost? A remnant of an alien disease? No matter, I'm still your mother. Your name is Hisashi. Your brother's name is Yoichi.

The warmth of the hospital had not lasted long. Hisashi and Yoichi had been booted out as soon as they were identified as metahumans. They were believed to be diseased, possibly contagious, certainly no longer human. Since they weren't human, they could be tossed out in the cold of the night with nothing except blankets.

Hisashi had screamed and cried when his stuffed tiger had been taken from him. He'd always hated to lose his belongings. Since they'd been planning to burn the toy to prevent contagion, they could have left it with him. Now Hisashi had nothing except Mom and Little Brother.

Mom guided him as always: Put Yoichi under the street light, where he'll be easy to see. Images accompanied her words, flashing through his mind and telling him what to do.

Hisashi set Yoichi down on the sidewalk, just below the street light. Yoichi whimpered and sniffled. He opened his mouth, making an "Ah ah ah" sound. That meant he was hungry. Hisashi brushed away the tears, a silent promise to get food soon. How, he wasn't sure yet. But he trusted Mom.

Good job. Now hide behind that trash can.

Hisashi crouched low behind the smelly trash can. The chill soaked straight to his skin as a damp light rain came down from the grey sky.

It took entirely too long, in the wet and cold and listening to Yoichi sniffle, before someone stopped. A big bulky adult in a heavy coat, carrying a paper bag. The stranger knelt down. "Where's your mommy or daddy? White hair?! Diseased!"

The person leapt backward. Mom screamed, Now!

A spike shot out from his arm. Mom had always been able to control the spikes even as her control over his body had waned. A spike went through the stranger's shoulder. Yoichi wailed as blood sprayed across his face.

Get the purse and the groceries—I mean the two bags.

Hisashi obeyed his mother, scooping up the purse over his shoulder and the groceries in one hand. With his other hand, he latched onto Yoichi's wrist. His silly little brother was just standing there, crying, until Hisashi tugged him away.

A pleasant scent drifted off the bag. Food! Soon there would be food! Hisashi's heart raced with triumph as he fled. Cries of pain became fainter behind him. No one tried to follow. He'd successfully protected his brother and obtained food. Today had been a good day.

There was a strange sound inside of Hisashi's head. It sounded sort of like the noises Yoichi made. It took him a while to realize Mom was weeping. I'm sorry. You had to do it. I'm sorry. I'll take responsibility. No matter what, Hisashi, you have to survive. Nothing is more important than you and your brother living.

Hisashi, of course, agreed.

OMAKE TIME!

Hisashi: This is my brother. I have learned my first word.

Yoichi: I'll call you brother too since we're the same!

Hisashi: Let's not get ahead of ourselves here, I'm the big brother.

#

Hisashi: Mom, why did you give Yoichi a name that meant "First Gift?" Am I not a gift?

Mom: Actually I named Yoichi with the kanji to mean "First Son" because he was born first. It was a little uncreative, but I was frazzled after dying and being eaten by rats.

Hisashi: That is such a worse answer than if you said you'd hated me. I cannot cope with this assault on my identity.

Mom: I love you, dear. I named you eternal because I hoped you'd live much longer than me.

Hisashi: Let's get back to the important matter. I'm taller than Yoichi. That makes me the bigger brother.

Mom: That's not how it works. Yes, Yoichi is smaller, but he was born first. I was there.

Hisashi: I was there too and I say Yoichi was born second!

Mom: You were a baby. How would you know?

Hisashi: Lalala, can't hear you, I'm rewriting reality.

#

Hisashi: I'm changing my name to All for One because you didn't name me First Son.

Mom: Look, I'm sorry you don't like your name, but are you sure about All for One? It sounds more like a codename.

Hisashi: It's the perfect name for a Demon King.

Mom: Huh, I went through a chuunibyou phase too. This is normal. I'm determined to believe that.

Hisashi: It's not a phase, Mom! When I take over Japan, then you'll see.

Author's Note: Ever since learning that All for One stole his mother's quirk as a baby, I've been wondering if that meant he had her quirk ghost living in his head. It might be the only explanation for how two children survived on the streets.

This fic is intended to be in the same universe as my fic "Learning to Speak the Same Language," which focuses on Yoichi after his rescue from the vault.

I commissioned kstbj to provide the cover art for this story. I adore the terrifying ghost mom and the feral children. Delete the spaces to get the link to the full-sized image:
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kstbj/737822558578163712/art-commission-for-the-story-romulus-remus-and?source=share