Hello again, didn't take long to be here again.

This was fast 'cause chapter 2 was part of Chapter 1 at one point but... *Look at those beautiful 40 pages on Word*

Yeah, you get the idea.

That's something that I'd love to know... Do you guys like these monstrosities of chapters?

Most of the time I have an idea of what I want to put in a chapter and I just write, write, and write. So yeah, would love to know what you think about it.

The slap of Izuku's sneakers against the pavement was steady, though his legs felt heavier with each step. The early morning chill clung to his skin, biting into his muscles as he pushed forward, keeping pace beside his mom. Inko jogged next to him, her breath coming in soft, controlled puffs. A faint smile tugged at her lips despite the strain. She wasn't doing the full training regimen Tsuna had laid out for him—just the running—but her presence made a difference.

Tsuna had been clear: start small, build gradually. On paper, the regimen didn't look too intense, but Izuku had quickly realized that didn't mean it would be easy. A week of early morning runs, bodyweight exercises, and slow pacing had left his body sore in ways he hadn't expected. The strain of push-ups, the constant impact of his feet hitting the pavement—it was all unfamiliar territory. Every morning, his arms and legs screamed with fatigue, but he kept going. Tsuna's advice echoed in his mind: focus on consistency, not speed, and add a little more every day.

"Take it slow," Tsuna had said. "Your body needs time to adjust."

Izuku gritted his teeth, forcing himself to push through the discomfort. His legs burned with every step, a constant reminder of just how far he still had to go. He hadn't seen any dramatic improvements yet—he was still exhausted, still sore—but he was lasting longer before his muscles gave out. It wasn't much, but it was something. Small victories. He had to start somewhere.

Inko slowed to a stop beside him, hands resting on her hips as she caught her breath. Her face was flushed, but she smiled. "I'll go back now, sweetie," she said, breathless but bright. "Go ahead and finish up."

Izuku nodded, already turning his focus back to the path ahead. "Okay, I'll see you in a bit." His breath came in shallow gasps as he pushed himself through the last stretch of their usual route.

The morning air was crisp, and Izuku found himself tuning into the rhythm of his footsteps, trying to block out the burning in his lungs. Every morning felt like a battle—his muscles still sore from the day before, his body resisting the strain of the workout. But Tsuna's words echoed in his mind, urging him forward. Start small. One step at a time.

By the time he finished the run, sweat dripped down his face, his legs felt like lead—but he didn't stop. Tsuna had made it clear: running wasn't enough. He needed strength too.

Izuku dropped down next to a bench, stretching out his arms before lowering into push-up position. One... two... three... His arms were shaking by the time he reached ten. He forced out one more, then collapsed, gasping for air as his chest heaved.

Next were the squats. Izuku pushed himself to his feet, legs wobbling beneath him as he began. Each squat was a challenge, his thighs burning after just a few repetitions. Fifteen. He stopped, legs trembling as he dropped onto the bench.

It wasn't much. But it was better than nothing.

The days blurred together in a haze of soreness and slow progress. Every morning, Izuku dragged himself out of bed, muscles protesting as he laced up his sneakers. The routine was grueling, but he stuck to it. The small improvements were there—he could run a little farther, squeeze out a few more push-ups—but they came slowly.

Izuku wiped the sweat from his brow as he finished another set of squats. His legs trembled, but he forced himself to keep going. It had only been a week—he knew he couldn't expect miracles. Tsuna had been clear: it would take time, and Izuku was beginning to understand just how much. There was no quick fix, no shortcut to getting stronger.

He glanced down at his hands, still shaking from the effort, and let out a tired sigh. "This isn't going to happen overnight," he muttered under his breath.

After a full week of training, Izuku had started noticing only small changes. His endurance had improved—if only slightly. Each day, he could push himself just a bit further, but the soreness lingered. The progress was agonizingly slow. His body wasn't adjusting as fast as he had hoped, and his mind kept circling back to the same doubts.

Was he really getting stronger? Or was he just wearing himself down?

Sitting on a park bench to catch his breath, those questions weighed heavily on him. He knew the training was important—Tsuna had emphasized that. But it was hard not to feel like he was falling behind, especially when he compared himself to the other students at school. They had quirks, strength that came effortlessly. For him, everything felt harder, slower.

But stopping wasn't an option. He had to keep going. If he didn't, what was all of this for?

Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Izuku jogged the final stretch home, his legs aching from the morning's exertion. His breathing was labored but steady, the familiar burn of exhaustion settling deep into his muscles. As he slowed to a stop in front of his house, the morning sun climbed higher in the sky, warming his skin as he tried to catch his breath.

Stepping inside, he was greeted by the comforting scent of breakfast—eggs and rice. The clink of dishes came from the kitchen, where Inko moved about, humming softly.

"Good job today, sweetie!" she called from the kitchen, her voice warm and cheerful. "How was the rest of your run?"

Izuku kicked off his shoes, giving a tired nod toward the kitchen as he still worked to catch his breath. "Tough, but good," he replied, his voice a little rough from the effort.

Inko poked her head around the corner, offering him a knowing smile. "Go shower first," she said with a gentle laugh. "Breakfast will be ready when you're done."

Izuku smiled back, feeling the sticky sweat cling to his skin. "Right... yeah, I'll be quick."

He hurried to his room to grab a change of clothes before heading into the bathroom. The cool water felt like a blessing against his aching muscles, washing away the sweat and grime. As the water streamed down, Izuku felt some of the tension from the morning's training ease, if only for a moment.

By the time he stepped out, towel draped around his neck, the soreness in his legs had dulled to a faint throb. He dressed quickly, letting the familiar scent of breakfast pull him back toward the kitchen.

"Perfect timing," Inko said, placing a plate of food on the table. "How are you feeling?"

Izuku sat down, freshly showered but still a little drained. "I'm getting used to it, I guess," he said, picking up his chopsticks. "But... I feel like I should be improving more."

Inko gave him a gentle smile. "You've been working hard every day, Izuku. Don't rush it. You're doing great, but you don't have to do it all at once."

He nodded, appreciating her reassurance, though the self-doubt still lingered at the edges of his mind.

As he ate, Izuku pulled out his phone and scrolled through his playlist, slipping his earbuds in. The music helped dull the constant hum of his Hyper Intuition, which was always pulling at his focus, making it difficult to concentrate. With the music on, his mind felt just a little quieter.

When he finished eating, he stood up, grabbing his backpack from the chair beside him. "Thanks for breakfast, Mom. I'll see you later."

Inko smiled warmly as she wiped her hands on a dish towel. "Have a good day, sweetie. And remember—take it one step at a time."

Izuku slipped his earbuds back in as he stepped outside, the soft rhythm of a familiar song playing in his ears. The morning air was crisp, and the streets were beginning to fill with the usual stream of students heading to school. He fell into his routine, his mind half-occupied with the music, half with the steady beat of his footsteps.

The music helped. Every movement, every sound around him seemed amplified these days, tugging at his attention. His Hyper Intuition had become both a blessing and a burden—an awareness that was always on, always noticing. The music provided him something steady to focus on, but even then, it wasn't always enough. His training was pushing his body, but his mind was still struggling to keep pace with the heightened awareness.

As he approached the school gates, Izuku spotted some of his classmates milling around, talking and laughing in small groups. Normally, he'd feel that familiar tightness in his chest—a quiet anxiety creeping up on him. But today, with the soft music playing in his ears, the tension felt a little duller. He kept his head down and walked past without drawing attention.

Bakugou and his group were standing by the gate, as usual. Izuku could hear their voices—sharp and loud—even with the music on. For a moment, Bakugou's eyes flicked in his direction, but Izuku kept walking, not giving him a reason to engage.

Class passed in a blur, the familiar routine of lectures and exercises pulling Izuku through the day. He kept one earbud in, the steady beat of his playlist helping him stay grounded. Still, there were moments when his Hyper Intuition flared—small details popping out at him, like the shuffle of a classmate's foot under the desk or the clink of a pencil falling at the far end of the room.

Tsuna had told him to focus on just one thing at a time, but sometimes it felt impossible to block everything out.

At lunch, Izuku sat alone in his usual spot, tucked away at the edge of the cafeteria. He pulled out his notebook, flipping through the pages of hero analyses he'd been working on. Normally, he would have been fully absorbed in his notes, lost in the meticulous details of each hero's strengths and strategies. But today, his thoughts kept drifting.

The bell signaling the end of lunch snapped him out of his daze, and he quickly gathered his things, heading back to class.

The afternoon passed much like the morning—lessons and exercises, all while the constant background hum of his Hyper Intuition pressed in on him. By the time the final bell rang, Izuku felt mentally drained. He knew he was improving, bit by bit, but it still didn't feel like enough.

As he left school and made his way home, the weight of the day settled over him, heavier than usual. The music in his headphones eased some of the tension, but the doubts gnawed at the edges of his mind. He was getting stronger, but it wasn't happening as quickly as he hoped. The frustration was starting to wear on him.

Izuku collapsed onto his bed, his body aching from the morning's run and the long day at school. His headphones buzzed faintly with music, but it wasn't enough to drown out his thoughts. He stared up at the ceiling, letting out a soft sigh.

I've been training for a week, he thought. But it still feels like nothing's changed. His mind wandered to Bakugou—always so far ahead, always out of reach. How do I catch up? The thought lingered, but Izuku shook his head. It wasn't just about Bakugou. It was about his dream. A dream that had seemed impossible his whole life, until now.

Suddenly, the familiar pull of the void overtook him. In a blink, Izuku found himself standing in the endless, empty space once again. Tsuna appeared nearby, as calm as always, though there was a faint concern in his eyes.

"Izuku," Tsuna greeted him, his voice steady but gentle.

Izuku hesitated, feeling the weight of the question he was about to ask. "Tsuna... do you know a way to make this go faster?" His voice was quiet, but the frustration was clear. "My training, I mean. I feel like I'm not making enough progress."

Tsuna's expression softened as he stepped closer, studying Izuku carefully. "You're frustrated."

Izuku lowered his gaze, his hands clenching slightly at his sides. "Yeah... I am. But it's not just that. I feel like... I'm falling behind. No matter what I do, it's like I'm not getting anywhere."

For a moment, Tsuna remained silent, simply watching Izuku with a thoughtful gaze, as though he was searching for the deeper emotion behind the words. Finally, he spoke, his voice quiet but firm. "It's not just about your training, is it?"

Izuku looked up, surprised. "What do you mean?"

Tsuna sighed softly, crossing his arms. "I think I understand why you're feeling this way. It's not just that you're frustrated with your progress... you're afraid, aren't you?"

Izuku froze, the word hitting him like a weight he hadn't expected. "Afraid?"

Tsuna nodded slowly. "You've spent your whole life believing your dream was out of reach. You were told you couldn't be a hero because you didn't have a quirk. And now, suddenly, you've got this power. You've been given a chance... and that's terrifying, isn't it? Because now, you're worried you won't live up to it."

Izuku's breath caught in his throat. Tsuna's words cut through everything he hadn't been able to admit out loud. He didn't just want to be stronger—he was scared. Scared of what it meant now that he had the chance he'd always dreamed of.

"I..." Izuku's voice wavered. "Yeah... I guess I am afraid."

Tsuna's expression softened further. "It's okay to be scared. I know what it's like to be thrown into something huge, something you never thought was possible. I went through the same thing when I became the Vongola boss. I didn't want it, and I didn't think I could handle it."

Izuku's eyes widened slightly. "You were scared too?"

Tsuna chuckled softly. "More than scared. I was terrified. I wasn't strong like my Guardians, and I wasn't powerful like the bosses before me. But... the one thing I learned is that strength doesn't come all at once. And it doesn't come from pretending you're not afraid."

Izuku's chest tightened, Tsuna's words settling in like a weight. He'd been running from that fear—afraid that now, with this chance right in front of him, he wouldn't be enough. That he would fail, and everything he'd dreamed of would slip away.

"I've always wanted to be a hero," Izuku whispered, his voice barely audible. "But now that I have this chance... I don't know if I'm strong enough. Everyone else is already so far ahead. I have to catch up... I have to be stronger than all of them. Otherwise, how can I make a difference?"

Tsuna watched him closely, his gaze steady and unwavering. "Izuku, being a hero... it's not about being stronger than everyone else. It's not about catching up or surpassing people. It's about what you do with the strength you have. You don't need to be the strongest right away. You just need to keep moving forward."

Izuku met his gaze, his eyes still filled with doubt. "But what if I'm not enough? What if no matter how hard I work, I can't keep up with them?"

Tsuna stepped closer, his voice calm yet firm. "You don't have to 'keep up' with anyone. You're walking your own path, Izuku. And it's okay to be afraid—it's okay to doubt yourself sometimes. But don't let that fear stop you from moving forward. You've been given this chance for a reason. And you're not alone in this."

Izuku's throat tightened, and he swallowed hard. "I... I don't know if I can do it."

"You can," Tsuna said quietly. "But it's going to take time. You can't rush it. You need to trust in yourself, trust in the process, and believe that your strength will grow. And when it does, you'll be ready for whatever comes."

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Izuku stood there, absorbing the weight of Tsuna's words. The fear still gnawed at him, but there was something else, too—a quiet reassurance. He wasn't alone. And maybe, just maybe, he didn't need to have all the answers right now.

"I'll keep trying," Izuku said finally, his voice shaky but filled with determination.

Tsuna smiled, a small, encouraging expression. "That's all you need to do, Izuku. Keep trying. Keep moving forward. And remember, you're not doing this alone."

There was a brief pause before Tsuna's expression shifted slightly. He raised his hand, palm facing upward, a gentle seriousness in his gaze.

"I imagine you've been wondering about this," he said, his tone calm and deliberate.

Izuku's eyes followed the movement of Tsuna's hand as a soft, glowing light began to flicker into existence above his palm. The light grew slowly, swirling and shifting until it took on a distinct orange hue, flickering like a flame but with an ethereal quality. It wasn't just fire—it felt alive, pulsing with warmth and energy, filling the empty space around them.

"This," Tsuna began, his voice steady and composed, "is what comes from Wave energy."

Izuku's eyes widened slightly as they flicked between the glowing Flames and Tsuna's face. He listened carefully, trying to understand the power displayed before him.

"Wave energy—also known as Hadou—is the life-force that flows through everyone's body. It's there from the moment you're born, and for most people, it stays balanced, unnoticed. But for some of us, one part of that Wave can ignite Flames like this."

The soft glow of the orange Flames flickered steadily in the air, but Tsuna didn't make a show of it. He simply held the energy in place, letting Izuku take it all in.

Tsuna's calm demeanor continued as he kept the Flames alive in his hand, his voice even and measured. "This is Hadou, an energy that comes from within you, the same energy that can be harnessed in different ways. For some, it remains dormant. For others, it awakens something powerful—something that can change the world around you."

Izuku stared, quietly mesmerized by the Flames. He could feel the pulse of energy radiating from them, not just in sight, but almost as if it resonated with something deep inside him.

Tsuna kept the Flames steady, not making a big deal of it, allowing Izuku to absorb the sight.

"It's different for everyone," Tsuna continued. "The amount and type of Wave energy you have is determined at birth. Sometimes people from the same family share similar types. Some can even have multiple wavelengths within them, but usually only one kind of Wave has the potential to spark these Flames."

Izuku nodded slowly, not reacting dramatically, just processing the information.

"So," Tsuna said, lowering his hand slightly, "what you're seeing here is the result of that Wave energy being put to use. It's not magic. It's just something that's a part of you—something you can learn to control."

Tsuna glanced at the flickering orange Flame in his palm before allowing it to slowly dissipate. He shifted his attention back to Izuku.

"Now that you've got a handle on Wave energy, let's talk about Flames," Tsuna continued, keeping his tone calm. "There are two major categories of Flames: Sky Flames and Earth Flames. They function differently, each tied to a specific aspect of the world."

He paused briefly, gauging Izuku's understanding before continuing.

"Sky Flames are tied to intangible forces—things like emotion, willpower, and harmony. They're versatile, often used for balancing, influencing, and connecting different energies. My Flame, the Sky Flame, is known for harmonization."

Tsuna raised his hand, reigniting the orange Sky Flame for a moment to demonstrate again.

"Sky Flames are divided into several types, each with unique characteristics. For example, Storm Flames are destructive—they break down anything they touch. Rain Flames weaken and calm whatever's around them. There are also Sun Flames, which accelerate processes like healing, and Mist Flames, which manipulate perceptions to create illusions. Each Flame has its own specific role."

Izuku nodded again, processing the details, though it was clear he was absorbing a lot of new information. But Tsuna wasn't finished.

"Then you have Earth Flames," Tsuna continued. "They're more connected to physical properties, the material world. Earth Flames focus on things like defense, stabilization, or fortifying what already exists. Unlike Sky Flames, they interact more directly with solid matter. Flames like Mountain or Swamp Flames influence the ground or objects around them, making them stronger or altering their form."

Izuku listened intently, trying to visualize what Tsuna was describing. It was a lot to take in, but he felt a growing sense of curiosity about how these Flames worked—and, more importantly, how they might relate to him.

Izuku's brow furrowed slightly as he listened, but he didn't interrupt.

"Every Flame type, whether it's Sky or Earth, is fueled by your Wave energy," Tsuna explained. "The type of Flame you can produce depends on the specific kind of Wave you were born with. It's a balance between your internal energy and the kind of power you can control."

Tsuna let his hand fall back to his side, and the faint glow of the Sky Flame flickered out. He glanced at Izuku, who had remained quiet but attentive throughout the explanation.

Izuku shifted slightly, a thoughtful expression crossing his face before he finally spoke. "That feeling I've been having... during training, especially when I push myself—it's like there's something inside me. Is that... Wave energy?"

Tsuna nodded. "Yes, that's exactly what it is. You're starting to notice it because you're pushing your limits, both physically and mentally. But what you're experiencing—actually feeling your Wave energy—isn't something everyone can do, at least not at this stage."

Izuku raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"Your sensitivity to Wave energy is higher than most," Tsuna continued. "It's rare for someone to sense it this clearly when they're just starting out. You'll likely develop that ability even more as you grow. For now, you can feel it inside yourself, but eventually, you might be able to sense Wave energy around you—other people's Waves, the energy in the environment."

Izuku's eyes widened slightly as he tried to imagine what that would be like.

"I think," Tsuna said, pausing thoughtfully, "that this sensitivity is probably connected to your Hyper Intuition. It's not something I've seen before, but it makes sense. If your intuition allows you to perceive things others miss, it's possible your ability to sense Wave energy has evolved in response. It could be a mutation or perhaps a new way your intuition is expressing itself."

Izuku didn't respond immediately, letting Tsuna's words sink in. The idea that his Hyper Intuition could evolve was both exciting and daunting.

Tsuna shifted his stance, ensuring that Izuku was following before continuing.

"Now that we've covered the basics of Wave energy and Flames," Tsuna said, his voice steady, "let's focus on the Sky Flames themselves. There are seven types, each with its own unique characteristics and uses."

Izuku nodded, his attention sharp as he absorbed everything Tsuna was telling him.

"The first is the Sky Flame itself," Tsuna continued, lifting his hand as the familiar orange flame ignited. "It's the Flame of Harmony. It has the ability to balance and unify other Flames, creating harmony between different energies. It's versatile and often seen as the central Flame within a group."

He let the flame flicker for a moment before extinguishing it. "This is the Flame I use."

Tsuna moved on, his explanation steady. "Next is the Storm Flame. It's destructive by nature—its primary ability is to break down or disintegrate whatever it touches. It's not subtle, but it's powerful when used properly."

Izuku listened closely, noting how each Flame had a distinct role.

"Then we have the Rain Flame," Tsuna said. "It has a calming effect. It weakens and slows things down, almost like it's 'washing away' energy or motion. People who use this Flame can suppress other Flames or abilities, making it an excellent defensive tool."

Tsuna continued without pause. "Sun Flames are tied to activation and acceleration. They speed up processes, such as healing or physical performance. These Flames are often used for support, helping others recover or enhancing their abilities."

Izuku remained thoughtful, absorbing each detail.

"Mist Flames," Tsuna said next, "are all about perception. They create illusions, manipulating how things appear or what others believe they're seeing. It's a more mental or psychological Flame, but it can be incredibly useful for controlling situations without direct confrontation."

Tsuna's voice remained calm as he moved on. "Cloud Flames focus on replication and expansion. They have the ability to make things grow, whether in size or number. It's like a force of multiplication—good for reinforcing things or overwhelming opponents."

Finally, Tsuna introduced the last Flame. "And then there's the Lightning Flame. These Flames are primarily defensive. They harden objects, making them more resistant to attacks, almost like reinforcing them with armor. It's a very practical Flame for protecting yourself or your allies."

He paused, giving Izuku a moment to process everything.

After explaining the seven types of Sky Flames, Tsuna looked directly at Izuku, his expression calm but serious. "There's something important you need to know, Izuku. You do have Sky Flames. It's not a question of 'if.' You're my descendant, and Sky Flames run in our bloodline."

Izuku blinked, slightly startled by the certainty in Tsuna's voice. "So, I definitely have them?"

Tsuna nodded firmly. "Yes, without a doubt. The same Sky Flames that I use flow within you. That's part of who you are."

Izuku absorbed this for a moment. The fact that he had Sky Flames—this power tied to his bloodline—felt monumental. But another question quickly followed.

"If I have Sky Flames... how can I actually use them?" Izuku asked, his voice steady but brimming with curiosity. "What do I need to do?"

Tsuna crossed his arms, giving Izuku space to think as he answered. "Using them isn't something that just happens. First, you need to fully understand your Wave energy and how to ignite your Flames. You'll need training—time to learn how to control them and put them to use."

Izuku nodded slowly, considering this. "But once I learn how to ignite them... what can I actually do with them? How do you use them?"

Tsuna uncrossed his arms and began to explain, his tone steady and clear. "Let's start with the basics. Flames, despite the name, aren't just fire. They behave like fire, yes—hot, destructive—but they're actually pure, condensed energy. That's why they can be used in so many ways, from enhancing attacks to forming shields."

Izuku listened closely, nodding as he followed Tsuna's words.

"First, you can use Flames to enhance weapons or attacks," Tsuna continued. "By focusing your Flames on a weapon—or even just your fists—you can strengthen your strikes, making them hit harder or faster. The energy amplifies whatever it's applied to, so your physical attacks become much more powerful."

Tsuna raised his hand slightly, igniting a small flicker of Sky Flames. "For example, if I coat my hand in Sky Flames, even a simple punch would carry far more force."

Izuku glanced at the small flame, imagining the power it could hold.

"Another common use is for defense," Tsuna added. "You can channel your Flames to create barriers or shields. The same condensed energy that makes Flames destructive can be redirected to protect you or others. Think of it as forming a wall of energy around you—it can block physical attacks or even deflect other Flames, depending on how strong your barrier is."

Izuku raised an eyebrow. "So the Flames can be used for both offense and defense?"

Tsuna nodded. "Exactly. That's what makes them so versatile. You can switch between attack and defense as needed, depending on how you channel the energy. They're called 'Flames' because they behave like fire, but their real strength comes from being raw energy. You can mold that energy into a weapon or a shield, depending on the situation."

Tsuna paused briefly before continuing, a thoughtful look in his eyes. "To help you understand just how adaptable Flames can be, let me tell you about some of the past Vongola bosses and how they used their Sky Flames with different weapons. Each boss had their own unique style."

Izuku leaned forward slightly, his attention sharpening as he listened closely.

"Let's start with Vongola Nono, the Ninth Vongola Boss, Timoteo," Tsuna began. "He used a scepter. His Sky Flames were channeled through it, allowing him to control and enhance his abilities. The scepter itself wasn't special until his Flames made it powerful."

Izuku absorbed the information, already starting to see how Flames could be applied in different ways.

"Then there's Daniela, the Eighth Vongola Boss, or 'Ottava' in Italian," Tsuna explained, translating for Izuku. "She used a crossbow as her weapon of choice. She would infuse her Sky Flames into the bolts she fired, making them far more powerful than regular arrows. The Flames gave her attacks precision and strength."

Izuku's eyes widened slightly. "So, she could shoot Sky Flames?"

"In a way, yes," Tsuna nodded. "Her crossbow was specially designed to channel her Flames into each shot."

Tsuna continued, "And then there was Fabio, the Seventh Vongola Boss, or 'Settimo.' He used a gun specifically made to shoot Flames. Instead of bullets, the gun fired concentrated bursts of Sky Flames, giving him a ranged attack that was both powerful and precise."

Izuku leaned back slightly, processing it all. "So, each boss adapted the Flames to fit their style?"

"Exactly," Tsuna confirmed. "Each weapon became an extension of their Sky Flames, and they used it in a way that matched their fighting style. You could do the same once you understand how to channel and control your Flames."

Izuku, still absorbing the examples, looked up at Tsuna curiously. "So, what about you? You've told me about the other Vongola bosses, but what did you use?"

Tsuna gave a small smile, having expected the question. "My fighting style is pretty close to that of Vongola Primo, the First Vongola Boss—Giotto."

He lifted his hand, making a fist as he spoke. "Both Primo and I fought using gloves. They were specially made to handle the intense energy of Sky Flames, allowing us to channel that power directly through our hands."

Izuku's eyes flicked down to Tsuna's gloves. "So, you didn't use weapons like swords or guns?"

Tsuna shook his head. "No, both Primo and I focused on martial arts. We didn't rely on weapons. Instead, we used our Sky Flames to enhance our punches, kicks, and overall movement. The gloves were designed to focus and control the Flames, so every strike would hit with far more force than usual."

"But I didn't just use my Flames for close combat," Tsuna added. "I could also project them for blast attacks. By focusing the Flames in one direction, I could release powerful bursts of energy."

Izuku's eyes widened slightly as Tsuna continued.

"And another thing—as I said before, the Flames weren't only useful for attacks. By channeling them through my gloves and focusing them at key points, I could also use my Sky Flames for flight. I'd propel myself through the air using the energy from the Flames, giving me incredible mobility in battle."

As Tsuna finished explaining, Izuku's eyes lit up with excitement. "This is incredible! The idea of using Flames for everything—attacks, defense, even flying! I never imagined anything like this!" He clenched his fists, his mind racing with possibilities. "I can't wait to start training and learn how to use my Sky Flames. This changes everything!"

He could barely contain himself, his usual focus scattered by his excitement. "If I can learn to control Flames, I could... I could actually keep up with everyone, maybe even surpass them!"

Tsuna watched with a calm smile, letting Izuku have his moment. After a brief pause, Tsuna's expression grew more serious. "There's one more thing we need to talk about before you get too far ahead, Izuku. And it's the main reason I've had you training like this."

Izuku, still buzzing with energy, quickly refocused on Tsuna. "What is it?"

Tsuna's tone remained steady. "We've talked about how Flames work, but there's something else you need to understand. It's called Dying Will Mode."

Izuku blinked, his excitement cooling slightly as he processed the new term. "Dying Will... Mode?"

Tsuna nodded. "It's a heightened state where your Flames are fully unlocked, and your body and mind are pushed to their absolute limits. It's called Dying Will Mode because it happens when you're determined to accomplish something as if it's your last chance—like you're willing to bet your life on it."

Izuku's eyes widened as he listened closely.

"When you enter Dying Will Mode, your physical strength, speed, and awareness are all enhanced far beyond normal. But more importantly, it allows you to fully access and control your Flames. You can fight at your full potential, but it's not something you can activate casually."

Izuku furrowed his brow. "So... how do you reach that state? Is there some kind of technique?"

Tsuna sighed slightly, his gaze shifting as if recalling something uncomfortable. "In my case... I had tools that helped me reach that state."

Izuku noticed a brief, subtle shudder in Tsuna's expression, though it seemed like he didn't want to explain too much.

"Tools?" Izuku asked, his curiosity piqued.

Tsuna cleared his throat, his voice steady but slightly uncomfortable as he continued. "Yeah... let's just say I had help. At the time, I was being pushed into Dying Will Mode through... well, some pretty extreme measures." He rubbed the back of his neck, a faint hesitation crossing his face as he recalled the times Reborn shot him.

"Wait, what kind of help?" Izuku pressed.

Tsuna waved it off quickly, avoiding the details. "It's... not something you need to worry about. The point is, back then, I had tools to help me trigger Dying Will Mode instantly. You... won't have access to anything like that."

Izuku's curiosity shifted to a more serious tone. "So... I'll have to unlock Dying Will Mode on my own?"

Tsuna nodded. "Yes. Without the tools I had, you'll need to unlock it through sheer effort. It's not impossible, but it will take time, discipline, and a lot of willpower."

Izuku processed the weight of Tsuna's words, his earlier excitement now tempered by the reality of the challenge ahead. "So... it's possible to do it alone?"

"Absolutely," Tsuna reassured him. "It's harder, but it can be done. Your training is designed to prepare your body and mind for the strain. With enough time and effort, you'll be able to unlock Dying Will Mode on your own. But it requires a lot of focus and mental resolve."

Izuku took a deep breath, feeling both the challenge and the opportunity in front of him. "So, it's all about effort and pushing yourself."

"That's right," Tsuna said. "It's not going to be easy, but once you reach that point, you'll have full control over your Flames and your potential."

Tsuna glanced at the sky, sensing that their time in this space was coming to an end. He turned back to Izuku, his tone softening but still carrying a sense of urgency.

"We're almost out of time for today," Tsuna said, folding his arms. "But before we wrap up, I need you to remember something important. Everything we've talked about—Flames, Dying Will Mode, your potential—it all comes down to one thing."

Izuku looked up, his attention fully on Tsuna.

"Your training," Tsuna continued. "Right now, that's the most important thing. Focus on building your strength, both physically and mentally. Dying Will Mode isn't something that will happen overnight, and neither is mastering your Flames."

Izuku nodded, already feeling the weight of the work ahead. "I understand."

Tsuna's expression softened. "It's not going to be easy, Izuku. But every bit of progress you make, no matter how small, is important. Stick to the routine, keep pushing yourself, and don't rush it. The results will come with time and effort."

Izuku clenched his fists, determination flickering in his eyes. "I won't stop. I'll keep pushing myself every day."

Tsuna gave him a small nod, a hint of pride in his gaze. "Good. That's all I can ask for. One step at a time, and you'll get there."

As the space around them began to grow hazy, signaling the end of their time together, Tsuna added one last piece of advice. "Remember: consistency is key. Trust the process, and don't lose sight of why you're doing this."

Izuku looked up at him with steady resolve. "I won't forget."

With that, the world around them began to fade, bringing their meeting to a close.

The early morning light filtered through the trees as Izuku's feet pounded steadily against the pavement. His breathing, once ragged and uneven, had become more controlled. Sweat dripped down his brow, but his focus remained unbroken. The soreness in his muscles had lessened over time—each run felt slightly easier than the last, his endurance slowly building.

In the quiet park, Izuku moved through his bodyweight exercises. Push-ups. Squats. Planks. His form, once shaky and inconsistent, had improved. He could feel the growing strength in his arms as he completed a set of push-ups, pushing a little further each day. His legs, once trembling after a few squats, now carried him through his reps with greater stability.

With each session, his movements became sharper, his posture straighter. He no longer collapsed in exhaustion after every workout. There was a quiet, steady rhythm to his progress—small victories marked by the slight ease in effort, the extra set he could complete, the few more seconds he could hold a position.

Out of breath, Izuku paused briefly to stretch, feeling the familiar burn in his muscles. But now, that burn carried something else with it—progress. He was getting stronger, slowly but surely.

The mornings had grown warmer over the months. The cool air of spring had been replaced by the humid warmth of early summer. Izuku's runs had become part of his daily routine, his breathing steady, his footsteps light but controlled. The park was busier now, with more people out, the hum of cicadas filling the air alongside the distant sound of traffic.

His body had slowly adapted to the training. The soreness that used to greet him each morning had dulled. He felt stronger. His legs carried him farther, and his form during the bodyweight exercises had noticeably improved. Push-ups, which had once left him trembling, now felt more controlled. His squats were smoother, his balance more natural.

School had settled into a routine. The rush of the new year had passed, and his classmates were now familiar faces. Izuku stayed focused, his notebooks filled with hero notes and detailed records of his training progress. Each small improvement was documented—how long he could run, how many push-ups he could do, how much easier each exercise felt over time.

Even his school uniform fit differently now. It was tighter around his shoulders and arms, a quiet sign of the progress he was making, though he paid little attention to it. His focus was always on the next step, the next goal.

In the park, Izuku moved through his exercises with increasing ease. The push-ups and squats that had once been a struggle were now part of a steady rhythm. When he finished, he'd sit on the bench, breathing hard but no longer completely drained. The exhaustion was manageable now—just part of the process.

After catching his breath, Izuku would head home, where his mom was always waiting. On some mornings, she joined him for the runs, keeping her own pace beside him. She didn't say much during those runs, but her quiet presence made a difference. On other mornings, she stayed behind, and when Izuku returned, she'd have breakfast ready, smiling as he walked through the door.

Their relationship had changed in subtle ways over the past few months. The concern Inko once carried so heavily seemed lighter now. She still worried—it was in her nature—but there was a new kind of trust between them. She trusted him to manage his training, to push himself without going too far. And Izuku could feel the difference in how they interacted.

The conversations over breakfast had become easier, too. "You're doing so well," she'd say with that soft pride that had always been there. They didn't need to talk about the training in detail, and that was fine. The constant checking in was gone. Inko no longer hovered or asked if he was pushing himself too hard. She knew he could handle it.

Even the little things were different. The mornings were quieter but more comfortable. Their time together, whether during a light jog or over a simple meal, carried a sense of calm that had been missing before. It wasn't just the training that was making Izuku stronger—it was the space they had carved out together, a shared routine that had grown over time.

As their conversations deepened, so did the nature of Izuku's training. What had started as simple physical conditioning evolved into something more focused—Tsuna had begun teaching him basic martial arts techniques.

Tsuna had admitted early on that he hadn't learned a formal fighting style until much later in life. "I didn't get into this until I was older," he mentioned casually during their sessions. "It would've helped me a lot if I'd started earlier, like you are now."

They weren't working on anything advanced—just the basics, enough to build a solid foundation. Tsuna emphasized simple movements: stances, balance, and how to control power in a punch or a kick. It was slow at first, but Tsuna was patient. He knew what it was like to start from scratch.

"Martial arts isn't about being the strongest," Tsuna would say, correcting Izuku's form during a session. "It's about being smart. You use your balance, your body, and your mind together. That's something I had to learn the hard way."

Over the weeks, Tsuna taught Izuku how to throw punches properly, how to stay grounded in a fight, and how to read an opponent's movements. It wasn't just about physical strength—it was about understanding the strategy behind each move.

Alongside the martial arts, another layer of Izuku's training had evolved—learning to better understand and control the Wave Energy, or Hadou, flowing inside him. Izuku had already felt it, though it happened unintentionally. Tsuna had pointed it out early on, recognizing it as part of Izuku's Hyper Intuition, which had mutated to make him more sensitive to Wave Energy.

"You're already feeling your Hadou," Tsuna explained during one of their sessions. "But it's happening without you really trying. That's your Hyper Intuition at work. Most people have to work hard to even sense it, but you've got the sensitivity already—it's just about controlling it now."

Izuku sat cross-legged, focusing on the faint sense of energy inside him—the warmth or pressure Tsuna had described. The feeling wasn't new to him, but it had always been elusive, just out of his control.

"You've got a head start, but that doesn't make it easy," Tsuna added, watching him closely. "You need to learn to tap into it on command. Without control, it's like having power you can't use."

They worked slowly, Tsuna guiding him through concentration exercises to help him isolate the feeling of Hadou. Izuku's senses were already tuned to it, but each session brought him closer to actively accessing that energy.

One day, as Tsuna explained how Hadou worked with Flames, he mentioned, "Back in my time, we had special artifacts—the Vongola Rings. They were tools that helped us focus and control our Hadou, making it easier to ignite our Flames."

Izuku's curiosity sparked at the mention. "The Vongola Rings? You've mentioned them before. What exactly are they?"

Tsuna glanced at Izuku, realizing the question had been bound to come. "The Vongola Rings are powerful artifacts that have been passed down through generations of Vongola bosses. Each boss, along with their Guardians, wore one. The Rings are more than just symbols—they amplify the user's Hadou, making it easier to ignite Flames and control them."

He paused, letting that sink in before continuing. "They don't just give you more power, though. They also serve as a test. Only someone with the strength of will and enough mastery over their own Wave Energy can fully wield a Ring. In my time, they were crucial for both my own growth and the growth of my Guardians."

Tsuna's expression grew thoughtful for a moment. "Each Ring corresponds to a specific Flame type, harmonizing with the user's natural abilities. The Vongola Rings weren't just tools—they were a connection to the legacy of the Vongola family itself."

Izuku's curiosity deepened, and he asked, "You've mentioned them before—the Guardians. Who exactly were they?"

Tsuna smiled slightly, as if recalling old memories. "The Guardians are more than just allies or companions. Each Vongola boss is surrounded by six Guardians, each representing a different Flame type. They're chosen not just for their power, but for their loyalty and the bond they share with the boss. Together, they form a balance—a unit that works in harmony."

He paused, his voice softening. "Each Guardian corresponds to one of the Sky Flame's subtypes: Storm, Rain, Sun, Cloud, Lightning, and Mist. My Guardians were my closest friends. Without them, I wouldn't have become the person—or leader—I needed to be. Their strength and support allowed the Vongola family to survive through countless trials."

Tsuna's expression softened even more as he continued. "The Guardians have always been more than just protectors. They're bound to the Vongola boss through trust and shared responsibility. In many ways, they're like a family of their own."

Tsuna's gaze shifted, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "You know, Izuku... if you ever find the Vongola Rings, it might not be just about you. Like every Vongola boss before me, you may need to find some Guardians of your own."

Izuku blinked, surprised by the suggestion. "Guardians? Me?"

Tsuna nodded. "If the Rings come back into play, you won't be able to wield their full potential alone. The strength of the Vongola has always come from the bonds between the boss and the Guardians. It's something deeper than just power—it's about trust, support, and balance."

He paused, letting the words sink in. "You won't need to rush into that, but keep it in mind. The Guardians aren't just protectors—they're partners. And if the time comes, you'll know who they are."

Izuku hesitated for a moment, then asked, "Do you really believe the Vongola Rings are still out there? I mean, from what you've told me... it's been more than a century since you died, and the Vongola family was erased from history."

Tsuna's expression remained calm, but there was a quiet certainty in his voice. "It's not about belief, Izuku. I'm sure the Rings are still out there." He paused, his gaze steady as he prepared to explain. "The reason I'm so certain has to do with something much larger—the Tri-ni-sette."

Izuku tilted his head. "Tri-ni-sette?"

Tsuna nodded. "The Tri-ni-sette is a system that guides life and maintains balance on Earth. It's connected to the life force itself, supported by the power of the Dying Will Flames of the Sky."

Tsuna continued, his tone steady. "Originally, the Tri-ni-sette consisted of seven powerful stones, supported by an ancient species that lived on Earth long before humans—the 'Earthlings.' But as the Earthlings started dying off, they split the stones into three sets of seven artifacts: the Arcobaleno Pacifiers, the Mare Rings, and the Vongola Rings."

"The Vongola Rings were given to Giotto, the first Vongola boss, by Sepira, one of the last surviving Earthlings. The Mare Rings stayed under the control of Sepira and the Giglio Nero famiglia she founded."

Izuku furrowed his brow, taking it all in. "And... the Vongola Rings are part of this balance?"

Tsuna nodded again. "Exactly. The Vongola Rings aren't just powerful artifacts—they're essential to the Tri-ni-sette's function. The Rings, along with the Mare Rings, help maintain the balance of life force on Earth. If they were destroyed or lost completely, it would disrupt the flow of Wave Energy and Flames across the world."

He met Izuku's eyes. "That's why I'm sure the Rings are still out there. They're tied to something far greater than just the Vongola family. They can be hidden or scattered, but they can't be destroyed—not permanetly, or without serious consequences to the balance of the Tri-ni-sette."

A chill ran down Izuku's spine as Tsuna finished his explanation. The sheer scale of what he was describing—the Tri-ni-sette, the balance of life itself—was overwhelming. The Vongola Rings weren't just relics from the past; they were tied to something far greater, something that could affect the entire world.

"You... you said something big was happening before," Izuku said, his voice quieter than usual. "Is this connected? I mean, if the Rings are part of keeping everything in balance... does that mean something's gone wrong?"

Tsuna's expression, usually calm and reassuring, shifted slightly. There was a weight in his gaze that Izuku hadn't seen before. "I didn't want to believe it at first," Tsuna began, his tone more serious than ever. "I was hoping it was something smaller, something we could manage. But after thinking it through, I can't see any other explanation."

Izuku's breath caught, the weight of Tsuna's words sinking in. "So... you think this is because of the Rings? The Tri-ni-sette?"

Tsuna looked thoughtful for a moment before responding. "There's something that Uni, a friend of mine and a direct descendant of Sepira and the Giglio Nero last boss, told me—a song, passed down through generations, describing the three elements of the Tri-ni-sette."

He recited it slowly, the words carrying a sense of ancient weight:

"The Sea knows no bounds.
The Clam passes down its form from Generation to Generation.
The Rainbow appears from time to time before fading away."

Tsuna paused, letting the meaning sink in. "This song represents the three parts of the Tri-ni-sette—each with its own unique properties and role in maintaining balance."

He let the words hang in the air before continuing. "The Tri-ni-sette isn't just about maintaining balance—it's about how each part interacts with space and time. Each element has its own special power, called a Miracle, and these powers are what give the Tri-ni-sette its strength."

Izuku listened closely, feeling the weight of what Tsuna was about to explain.

"Let's start with the Arcobaleno Pacifiers," Tsuna began. "Their Miracle was tied to how they exist in space and time. Unlike the Vongola Rings and Mare Rings, which exist along the Space-Time Axis as continuous lines—passing from one person to the next—the Pacifiers were fixed at points in time."

Izuku raised an eyebrow. "Points in time?"

Tsuna nodded. "Exactly. The Arcobaleno Pacifiers had the ability to exist in moments rather than as something that progresses through time. That's why the Arcobaleno couldn't grow old or die of natural causes—they were frozen in time, unable to move forward. The Pacifiers allowed their holders to exist outside the normal flow of time until their connection to the Pacifier was severed."

He paused, remembering the complexity of it all. "That's why the song says, 'The Rainbow appears from time to time before fading away.' The Arcobaleno and their Pacifiers existed in specific phases, popping in and out of the timeline, bound to their role until their connection was broken."

Tsuna continued, "Now, let's talk about the Mare Rings. Their Miracle is different from the Arcobaleno Pacifiers. While the Pacifiers existed as points in time, the Mare Rings had the power to travel horizontally along the Space-Time Axis. That's why they're represented by the sea—'Mare' in Italian."

Izuku furrowed his brow. "Horizontally? What does that mean?"

"The Mare Rings allowed their holders to access parallel worlds—other versions of reality that exist alongside our own," Tsuna explained. "One person who wielded the Mare Rings was named Byakuran. He used their power to peer into these other worlds, and that wasn't all. He could actually bring things and people from one world to another."

Izuku's eyes widened in surprise. "So... he could travel between worlds and bring things with him?"

"Exactly," Tsuna said. "Byakuran could bring anything from one world to another. For example, if there was an incurable disease in one world but another world had developed a cure, he could bring that cure into the sick world. It gave him immense power because he could take the best of what each parallel world had to offer."

Izuku absorbed the information, the scale of Byakuran's ability dawning on him. "He could take what worked best from one world and use it in another?"

Tsuna nodded. "Yes. Byakuran didn't just use the Mare Rings to observe other realities—he could reach into them and take whatever he needed. This is the true Miracle of the Mare Rings: the ability to travel through space and manipulate realities by pulling people, knowledge, and objects from parallel worlds."

Tsuna took a breath before continuing. "Now, the last part of the Tri-ni-sette is the Vongola Rings. Their Miracle is different from the others—it's tied to the ability to move vertically along the Space-Time Axis. That's why they're represented by the clam—'Vongola' in Italian. The clam passes its form down through generations, and the Vongola Rings do the same."

Izuku's curiosity deepened. "So, what does that mean? Moving vertically?"

"The Vongola Rings allow the Vongola family to pass down their traditions, knowledge, and strength directly from one generation to the next," Tsuna explained. "It's not just about inheritance in the normal sense—it's a direct link from the past to the future. The Vongola Rings connect all the past bosses and allow the current Vongola boss to communicate with their predecessors."

Izuku blinked. "Communicate? You mean... you could talk to the past bosses?"

Tsuna nodded. "Yes. One example of this Miracle is the Vongola Trial. When the Vongola successor—someone like me—is tested as the future leader of the Vongola, the Rings test their resolve. The successors are given trials by their predecessors, and they have to prove they're worthy to lead the Vongola. Giotto, the first Vongola Boss, explained that all the Vongola bosses' experiences—their hours—are engraved into the Ring."

Izuku's eyes widened. "So, you could talk to the former bosses? Like Giotto?"

"That's right," Tsuna said. "Their wills are sealed within the Vongola Rings, and they remain connected to every boss who comes after them. It's how the Vongola traditions continue to exist, passed directly from the past to the present."

Tsuna gave a small smile, his usual calmness returning. "Though, given what's happening with us right now, you probably shouldn't be too surprised."

Izuku blinked, confused for a moment. "Wait... what do you mean?"

Tsuna chuckled lightly. "Think about it. We're doing the same thing right now—communicating across time. My will, my experiences, they've been passed down to you. It's not exactly through the Vongola Rings this time, but it's pretty close, isn't it?"

Izuku stared for a moment, realization dawning on him. "You mean... this? Us talking right now?"

Tsuna nodded, a slight grin on his face. "Exactly. It's like a version of the Miracle of the Vongola Rings. So, really, you've already gotten a taste of it."

Tsuna's smile softened as he continued. " I know the Vongola Rings are still out there. They're tied to the Vongola bloodline, passed down through the generations. The Rings have always found their way to those who carry the Vongola legacy—just like this connection between us."

Izuku still looked uncertain, but Tsuna's calm certainty never wavered.

"I'd be surprised if you didn't find them," Tsuna added with a grin. "The Rings have always sought out their rightful successor, and you, Izuku... you're a part of that bloodline. The same way we've connected, the Rings will find their way to you when the time is right."

Izuku's breath hitched. "So... I'm destined to find them?"

Tsuna nodded. "I really think it's not a matter of 'if'—it's a matter of 'when.' You're connected to the Vongola, and the Rings will recognize that. It's just a part of who you are now."

Izuku stared at Tsuna, still processing everything. The idea of being tied to a powerful artifact, connected to past generations, and responsible for the balance of the world—it felt like too much. His chest tightened, and for a moment, he struggled to find words.

"I... I don't know if I'm ready for this," he admitted, his voice shaky. "The Tri-ni-sette, the Rings, the balance of life... it's a lot. I'm just... me. I don't know if I'm the one who should be handling something like this."

Tsuna watched him, his calm expression unwavering, allowing Izuku to voice his doubts. But Izuku's thoughts kept circling back to one idea. As overwhelming as it was, there was something else there, something that made sense in a way he hadn't expected.

"Still... protecting the balance of the world," Izuku muttered, more to himself than to Tsuna. "That sounds like... a very heroic thing, doesn't it?"

The knot in his chest loosened slightly as the words settled in his mind. Heroism. That's what he'd always wanted, ever since he was a kid—being a hero, someone who could protect people, someone who could make a difference.

He looked up at Tsuna, still feeling the weight of it all, but now with a spark of determination starting to form. "I guess... in a way, it's the ultimate heroic duty. Isn't it?"

Tsuna gave him a small, knowing smile. "That's exactly right. It's a huge responsibility, no doubt. But if anyone can handle it, it's someone who wants to be a true hero."

Days passed after their heavy conversation about the Tri-ni-sette, and while Izuku couldn't fully shake off the weight of what he'd learned, he found himself curious about something else Tsuna had mentioned—the Guardians. It wasn't immediate, but the thought kept circling back in his mind.

One day, during a more casual conversation, Izuku finally asked, "You said I might have to find some Guardians of my own, right? What were your Guardians like? How did you meet them?"

Tsuna chuckled softly, his eyes brightening with the memories. "Ah, my Guardians... they were all unique, to say the least. Each one of them was different, but they became some of the most important people in my life." He paused, thinking back. "Let me start with Gokudera Hayato."

Izuku listened intently, curious about the people Tsuna had surrounded himself with.

"I met Gokudera in a pretty... explosive way," Tsuna said with a smirk. "Literally. The first time we met, he showed up at my school, ready to challenge me. He'd heard I was the heir to the Vongola, and he wanted to test me. Gokudera was brash, quick to anger, and honestly... a bit of a handful at first."

Izuku blinked. "He challenged you? So he didn't want to be your Guardian at first?"

Tsuna shook his head, smiling. "Nope. Gokudera thought he could take me down and prove himself. He came at me with everything—explosives and all—but something changed during the fight. He realized that there was more to the Vongola than power, and from that day on, he decided to follow me. He became my right-hand man, my Storm Guardian."

"Explosives?" Izuku repeated, his mind immediately jumping to Bakugou. "Was he... like that? Did he have some kind of explosive power or ability?"

Tsuna couldn't help but laugh. "No, no. Gokudera didn't have any kind of power. He just... walked around with dynamite. Always had sticks of the stuff on him. He'd throw them at anyone who got in his way."

Izuku stared, wide-eyed. "He just... had dynamite? Like, all the time?"

"Yep," Tsuna grinned. "He was a bit over the top. The dynamite was just his way of doing things. Honestly, I don't think I ever saw him without at least a few sticks on him."

Another day passed, and during a later conversation, Izuku's curiosity sparked again. "You told me about Gokudera, but what about your other Guardians? How did you meet them?"

Tsuna smiled fondly, leaning back slightly. "Ah, Yamamoto Takeshi. He was a completely different story from Gokudera. Much calmer, much... simpler, I guess you could say."

Izuku tilted his head. "Simpler?"

"Yeah," Tsuna nodded. "Yamamoto was our Rain Guardian. I met him during middle school. At first, he was just this easygoing, athletic guy. He didn't get involved in any of the Vongola business at first—he was actually a baseball fanatic."

"Baseball?" Izuku blinked. "Wait... so how did he get involved with you?"

Tsuna chuckled. "Well, it wasn't intentional at first. Yamamoto had no idea what was going on around him. He thought all the crazy Vongola stuff was some kind of game. When he saw Gokudera and me fighting, he thought it was part of some kind of elaborate role-play or competition."

Izuku stared in disbelief. "He thought it was a game?"

"Yep," Tsuna laughed. "For the longest time, he didn't realize that the fights he was joining were real. He was just having fun with it, thinking it was some kind of challenge. It wasn't until much later that he realized the weight of what was happening."

Izuku grinned a little at the thought. "So he was... just enjoying himself?"

"Exactly," Tsuna said, still smiling. "But here's the thing—he was a natural. Even though he didn't realize what he was getting into, Yamamoto had an incredible instinct for fighting. He eventually traded his baseball bat for a sword, and once he started taking things seriously, he became one of the strongest people I knew."

Izuku's eyes widened. "A sword? He became a swordsman?"

Tsuna nodded. "Yeah. He picked it up pretty quickly, almost like he was meant to be one. Yamamoto always had a calming presence, like water smoothing out rough edges. He was one of those people who could adapt to anything, no matter how crazy the situation."

A few days later, during another conversation, Izuku brought up the Guardians again. "What about your other Guardians? You told me about Gokudera and Yamamoto, but what about the others?"

Tsuna laughed lightly, liking how enthusiastic Izuku was about this. "Sasagawa Ryohei. My Sun Guardian. Ryohei... well, he was a force of nature. He was the type of person who takes 'extreme' to a whole new level."

Izuku raised an eyebrow. "Extreme?"

"Yeah," Tsuna said, his grin widening. "That was his favorite word. Everything he did was 'extreme.' He was a boxer, and honestly, he had more energy than anyone I've ever met, put together. I'm pretty sure he only had one speed—full force, all the time."

Izuku chuckled. "He sounds... intense."

"Oh, he was," Tsuna nodded. "I met him early on, actually. He's the older brother of Kyoko, a girl I went to school with. And, just like with everything else, he approached me in the most extreme way possible. He wanted me to join his boxing club, and when I said no, he challenged me to a fight."

Izuku's eyes widened. "He challenged you too?"

"Yep," Tsuna laughed. "Ryohei was always ready for a challenge. He thought fighting was the best way to connect with people and show them his strength. But even though he was always loud and intense, he had a heart of gold. He'd do anything to protect his friends and family."

Izuku smiled, starting to get a clearer picture. "So, he was the muscle of the group?"

"You could say that," Tsuna nodded. "But more than just being strong, he had the ability to heal and inspire others. As the Sun Guardian, his Flames had a regenerative quality, meaning he could heal wounds and boost others' energy. That was part of his extreme nature—he didn't just fight; he brought others up with him."

"Healing?" Izuku said, surprised. "I didn't think a guy like that would have such an ability."

Tsuna chuckled softly. "Yeah, it was surprising, but Ryohei was never that good at it. Healing with the Sun Flames requires precision and control, and well, he wasn't exactly known for subtlety. But that never stopped him from doing everything he could to help. If someone was injured, he'd push himself to the limit trying to heal them, even if it didn't always work perfectly."

Izuku grinned at the image of Ryohei trying to heal with his boundless energy. "Sounds like he never gave up."

"Exactly," Tsuna said. "No matter what, Ryohei kept pushing forward, trying to help in any way he could. Even if his healing wasn't perfect, he'd always try his best to keep everyone in the fight."

Izuku was still chuckling over Ryohei's boundless energy when another thought crossed his mind. "You've told me about Gokudera, Yamamoto, and Ryohei... but what about the others?"

Tsuna's smile softened, a mix of fondness and exasperation crossing his face. "Well, there was Lambo... he was something else. He was my Lightning Guardian, but I think out of all my Guardians, he was the most... unexpected."

"Unexpected? What do you mean?"

"Well," Tsuna began, "Lambo was just five years old when we first met him. A little kid with an oversized afro and... a love for causing trouble. He was always trying to get into fights way over his head. You see, he was part of the Bovino family, a minor mafia group, and he was obsessed with taking down another assassin named Reborn—who was, well, training me at the time."

Izuku blinked. "Wait, a five-year-old... fighting an assassin? Was he serious?"

Tsuna chuckled. "Oh, he was serious, alright. Lambo was convinced he could defeat Reborn. Of course, he had no chance, but that didn't stop him from trying—over and over again."

Izuku grinned at the thought of a small kid charging into a fight he couldn't win. "So... how did he end up as your Guardian?"

Tsuna leaned back, recalling the story. "Lambo had this strange device called the Ten-Year Bazooka. Whenever he fired it, it would swap him with his future self from ten years ahead. At first, it was chaotic—future Lambo would appear, handle the situation for a bit, and then swap back to little Lambo. It was always a mess, but over time, little Lambo grew up with us, and before I knew it, he was one of us."

Izuku's eyes widened. "Wait... a Ten-Year Bazooka? So, he could literally bring his future self into the present?"

"Yeah," Tsuna laughed. "It was as ridiculous as it sounds. And future Lambo was just as unpredictable. But, even though Lambo was just a kid, we all grew attached to him. He was reckless, childish, and always trying to prove himself, but he had this strange resilience to him. As the Lightning Guardian, his role was to act as a protector—taking the hits that no one else could handle. It was like he was built for that, even as a little kid."

"So... Lambo was the type who never knew when to quit?"

"Pretty much," Tsuna said with a smirk. "Even though he was young, Lambo kept charging forward, trying to prove himself, and he never backed down from a challenge—even when he should have. As he grew, he learned to channel that stubbornness into something more reliable."

A few days passed, and once again, during one of their conversations, Izuku's curiosity got the better of him. "You still had two other Guardians. Who were they?"

Tsuna smiled, though there was a slight sense of hesitation. "Yeah, you could say that the last two were a little... complicated. One of them was Hibari Kyoya, my Cloud Guardian."

Izuku leaned in, eager to hear more. "What made him so difficult?"

"Hibari was... unique," Tsuna said carefully. "He wasn't like the other Guardians. He didn't care about the Vongola, or me, or anyone, really. Hibari only cared about one thing: keeping order. At our school, he was the head of the Disciplinary Committee, and he had this... intense desire to maintain control over everything in Namimori—our town."

Izuku blinked. "So, he didn't join the Vongola to protect people like the others?"

Tsuna chuckled. "No, not at first. Hibari was the kind of person who hated being told what to do. He didn't like being around others and preferred to act alone. That's why he became my Cloud Guardian—Cloud Flames represent independence. He was the type who valued his freedom and didn't want to be tied down to anyone."

"Then how did he end up becoming your Guardian?" Izuku asked, puzzled.

Tsuna rubbed the back of his neck, thinking back. "Honestly, it wasn't because I convinced him. Hibari was the kind of person who only fights when it suits him. In the beginning, he saw everything as an inconvenience, but eventually, I think he realized that fighting with us aligned with his personal goal—to protect Namimori. He never admitted it, but in his own way, he was always keeping our town safe."

Izuku nodded slowly. "So, it wasn't about loyalty to you—it was more about his own sense of order?"

"Exactly," Tsuna said. "Hibari didn't care about titles or loyalty. He fought for his own reasons, and in a way, that made him one of the most reliable Guardians. You could never tell him what to do, but when things got serious, you could always count on him to show up."

Izuku thought about that for a moment. "So... he helped you because he wanted to protect Namimori?"

Tsuna nodded. "That was always his main goal. Even if he didn't say it out loud, Hibari cared deeply about his town. He just had a... different way of showing it. But no matter what, I knew I could count on him when things got dangerous."

A few more days passed, and during another conversation, Izuku finally asked about the last of Tsuna's Guardians. "You've told me about Gokudera, Yamamoto, Ryohei, Lambo, and Hibari... but there's one left, right? You mentioned the Mist Guardian was a little complicated."

Tsuna nodded, his expression turning thoughtful. "Yeah, that's right. My Mist Guardians were... definitely the most complicated of the group. There's Rokudo Mukuro and Chrome Dokuro. They shared the position, but Mukuro was always the de facto main Guardian."

Izuku raised an eyebrow. "They shared the role?"

Tsuna leaned back slightly, thinking of where to begin. "Mukuro and Chrome had a very complicated relationship. Mukuro was the original Mist Guardian. He was powerful, cunning, and honestly... dangerous. When I first met him, he wasn't exactly a friend. In fact, he was an enemy."

"An enemy?" Izuku repeated, surprised.

Tsuna nodded. "Mukuro's past was filled with tragedy and pain. He was experimented on as a child, which left him with a deep hatred for the mafia and the world that created such a system. He was determined to destroy everything connected to it, including me and the Vongola. He didn't trust anyone and wanted nothing more than to bring chaos to the world."

Izuku frowned, trying to imagine someone like that becoming one of Tsuna's Guardians. "So... how did he end up joining you?"

"It wasn't easy," Tsuna admitted. "Mukuro tried to use me at first, as part of his plan to destroy the Vongola from the inside. But over time, things changed. Mukuro's goals didn't exactly disappear, but he began to understand that the Vongola under my leadership wasn't the corrupt organization he hated. In the end, he chose to fight alongside me—though I don't think he'd ever call it 'loyalty.' He fought for his own reasons, and he valued his independence, much like Hibari."

Izuku nodded, still processing Mukuro's complexity. "And... what about Chrome?"

Tsuna smiled gently. "Chrome was a bit of a different story. She shared the role of Mist Guardian with Mukuro, but her connection to him was... unique. She was a normal girl—her real name was Nagi. After a terrible accident left her severely injured, Mukuro saved her by creating illusions to replace her damaged organs. That's how she became intertwined with him, and later the Vongola."

Izuku's eyes widened. "So Mukuro kept her alive?"

Tsuna nodded. "At first, yes. Mukuro's illusions allowed her to survive. But over time, Chrome became stronger. She learned to use her own Mist Flames and eventually gained enough control to create her own organs with illusions. By the end, she didn't rely on Mukuro to keep her alive—she had grown powerful in her own right."

Izuku was impressed. "So, she wasn't just following Mukuro?"

"No," Tsuna replied, his voice full of respect for Chrome. "Chrome was loyal to Mukuro, but she wasn't a puppet. She had her own will, and she grew into a powerful Guardian. Even though Mukuro was the de facto Mist Guardian and controlled much from the background, Chrome stood on her own by the end. They shared the same role, but they had their own distinct identities."

Tsuna leaned back with a thoughtful smile. "That's the nature of the Mist Flames—deception, illusions, and mystery. Mukuro and Chrome embodied that in different ways. Even though their connection was complicated, together they played a key role in protecting the Vongola."

As the weeks turned into months, Izuku's training became more routine, yet the progress was undeniable. Conversations with Tsuna about his Guardians continued to inspire him, but his focus remained on the training—on mastering his Hadou. Every day, the energy within him became more familiar, more natural. It wasn't easy, but the small victories were there, and Izuku held onto those as motivation.

By the time the third quarter of the school year began, something had shifted. What had once felt elusive, the barely noticeable flicker of energy inside him, now felt stronger, more present. Izuku had started to not only sense the energy but understand its flow, its rhythm, and how it pulsed within him.

One afternoon, after another set of exercises, Izuku sat cross-legged, focusing inward as he had done countless times before. The once subtle warmth of his Hadou now felt almost like a low flame within him, steady but waiting. Tsuna appeared beside him, watching quietly as Izuku centered himself, a small smile forming on his face.

"You've come a long way, Izuku," Tsuna said, his voice calm but filled with pride. "I can tell you're finally close."

Izuku opened his eyes, looking at Tsuna, a mix of curiosity and anticipation filling him. "Close to what?"

"To being able to produce Flames," Tsuna replied, his expression growing more serious. "You've spent months learning to sense your Hadou, and now your connection is strong enough that I believe it's time for the next step."

Izuku's heart quickened at the thought. The idea of being able to bring out his Flames, something that had seemed so distant when they first began, now felt within reach. "You really think I'm ready?"

Tsuna nodded, stepping closer. "Yes. You've trained hard to get to this point, and now you've built enough control. Your ability to feel the energy is solid—now it's time to channel it. It won't be easy, but I'm confident you can do it."

Izuku sat up straighter, excitement coursing through him. "So, how do I do it? How do I actually... make Flames?"

Tsuna's expression softened, though his voice remained steady. "It's all about focus and intent. The Flames are a reflection of your Will—your determination. You've been feeling them inside you, now you need to guide that energy outward. It takes concentration, and a strong sense of purpose, but with everything you've done so far, I know you're ready."

Izuku took a deep breath, letting Tsuna's words sink in. All of the training, all the effort, had led to this point. He had sensed the energy for so long—now it was time to bring it to life. The dream of becoming a hero felt closer than ever, and the next step was finally within reach.

Izuku stared in awe, his breath catching in his throat as the Flames flickered before him. Sky Flames, just like the ones Tsuna had shown him before—bright, vibrant, and almost alive. They danced in the air above his hands, a brilliant orange, burning softly but steadily. The light they cast around the room seemed to fill the space with warmth, a warmth that wasn't just physical—it was something deeper, something he could feel in his very core.

He could feel what the Flames were transmitting. It wasn't just heat, but a sense of connection, like the energy of life itself. The Flames pulsed with something more—harmony, the balance Tsuna had talked about. It was a feeling of unity, like everything around him, inside him, was aligning perfectly for that moment. These Flames weren't just fire—they were an extension of him, a manifestation of his very Will.

But it wasn't only what the Flames were giving off that overwhelmed him—it was what he felt inside, seeing them with his own eyes. For the first time, he wasn't just imagining it or feeling it somewhere deep within—he was holding it. This was the physical proof that everything Tsuna had told him, everything they'd worked on, was real. All the months of training, the struggle to understand the energy inside him, the doubts and fears—they had all led to this moment.

Izuku's hands trembled slightly as he stared at the Sky Flames. He had a power. This was it. After everything he had been through, the uncertainty that had followed him for so long... the Flames in his hands were undeniable evidence. They were real, tangible, and they belonged to him. He wasn't just sensing something abstract anymore—he was holding a power that could change everything. It felt like the biggest step he'd ever taken, the ultimate proof that his dream wasn't just a distant hope.

A flood of emotions hit him all at once. Relief, excitement, pride—and something else. For so long, he had believed in Tsuna, in the Vongola legacy, but a part of him had always wondered if it was all too good to be true. Despite all the training, there hadn't been anything physical before. But now? Now he held it in his hands. It was real, and so was he.

"I did it..." he whispered to himself, his voice shaky with emotion.

The Flames flickered softly, their warmth steady as they danced before him, casting a glow across his room. This was more than just a step in his training—it was proof that he could become something more, something greater. His own power, his own strength. He could really be a hero.

Izuku was still entranced by the Flames, the warm glow reflecting in his wide eyes. He had done it—he had actually made the Flames real. But his moment of awe was abruptly interrupted when he heard the front door open.

"Izuku, I'm back early! I forgot to grab—"

Before she could finish her sentence, Inko stepped into his room, her eyes immediately locking onto the bright orange Flames flickering in her son's hands.

For a split second, everything froze. Inko's face drained of color, her wide eyes darting between the Flames and Izuku's shocked expression. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out at first, as if her brain was trying to catch up with what her eyes were seeing.

"I-Izuku!" she finally shrieked, her voice cracking with pure panic. "What is that?! What's happening?!"

Izuku, still caught off guard, quickly scrambled to control the Flames, his heart pounding in his chest. "M-Mom! It's okay! It's—it's—!"

The Flames sputtered in his hands, flaring slightly as his panic made it harder to control them. Inko took a few steps back, her hand flying to her mouth as she stared in disbelief. "Are you on fire?! Oh no, oh no—wait, are you hurt?! Do we need to go to the hospital?!"

"N-no!" Izuku stammered, his voice cracking as he waved his hands around, trying to dispel the Flames. "I'm not hurt! I'm not burning! It's... it's supposed to be like this!"

Inko's eyes were wide with worry, her face pale as she watched the Flames flicker wildly. "Supposed to be? Izuku, you're holding fire! What do you mean it's supposed to be like this?!"

Izuku finally managed to suppress the Flames, the glow in his hands disappearing as he frantically waved them in the air. "It's—it's okay! I mean... it's something I've been working on... It's part of my training! I'm not hurt! Please, don't freak out!"

"Not freak out?!" Inko shouted, her voice high-pitched with panic. "You had fire in your hands! How am I supposed to not freak out?!"

Both of them stood there, frozen for a moment, breathing heavily, eyes locked in mutual shock. Izuku was still trying to calm his racing heart, while Inko's hands trembled as she tried to piece together what she had just seen.

Izuku swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. "Mom... I promise I can explain."

Inko slowly lowered her hand, her eyes still filled with worry. "You'd better," she said softly, her voice shaky. "Because what I just saw... that's not normal."

Izuku nodded quickly, his own hands trembling slightly from the adrenaline. "It's not... but I promise, it's part of something I've been learning. It's... not dangerous."

Inko looked at him for a long moment, her eyes scanning his face, searching for answers. "Izuku... what's going on?"

Izuku's heart raced as he stood there, staring at his mother. Her worried gaze locked onto his, searching for some kind of explanation, but the weight of what he needed to say hung heavy in the air. His mind raced, trying to find the right words. He could lie—brush it off as a quirk or an accident—but deep down, he knew that wasn't an option anymore. Not after everything that had happened.

This power wasn't a quirk, and it wasn't something he could hide forever.

Taking a deep breath, Izuku clenched his fists at his sides, his hands still trembling slightly from the surge of energy. He made a decision, swallowing the knot in his throat.

"Mom," Izuku began softly, his voice steady but nervous, "there's... something I need to tell you. It's the truth, and it's going to sound... strange, but please, just listen."

Inko's face softened with concern, but she nodded slowly, her hands still trembling. "Okay, Izuku... I'm listening."

Izuku exhaled, his mind racing over how to begin. "What you just saw... it's not a quirk. It's something different. Something... special. It's a power that comes from our family."

Inko blinked, confusion flashing across her face. "Our family? But... no one in our family has ever had a quirk like that."

"I know," Izuku said, his voice a little shaky, "but that's because it's not a quirk. It's something... ancient, something that's been passed down through generations. I've only recently learned about it, and it's not like anything we've known before."

Inko looked at him, her confusion deepening. "I don't understand. How did you... find out about this?"

Izuku hesitated for a moment, wondering how to explain the strange, incredible experiences he'd had over the last several months. But she deserved the truth. He took another deep breath and began to speak again.

"It all started with these... dreams," he said slowly. "Dreams about a man named Tsuna. He was someone special—someone who lived a long time ago. At first, I didn't understand what was happening, but I kept seeing him, hearing his voice. And then... I realized he wasn't just a dream. He's real. Or at least, his spirit is."

Inko's eyes widened. "His... spirit?"

Izuku nodded. "Yeah. He told me that he's a part of our family. Tsuna was a powerful leader, someone who had these abilities, just like the ones I'm starting to develop. He's been training me in my dreams, showing me how to use these powers—how to control the Flames you just saw."

Inko stared at him, her mouth slightly open in disbelief. "You're... you're being trained by someone from our family? Through dreams?"

"I know it sounds impossible," Izuku said quickly, seeing the doubt in her eyes, "but it's true. He's from a long line of powerful people called the Vongola. He told me that this power has been passed down through our bloodline, and that's why I have it now. It's not a quirk—it's something else entirely. I've been training with him for months to understand it."

Inko was silent for a long moment, processing everything. She looked at her son, eyes filled with concern but also curiosity. "Why... why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Izuku sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn't know how. It all seemed so... unbelievable. I wasn't even sure it was real at first. But after what you saw today, I can't hide it anymore. This is real, Mom. And I'm trying to understand it."

Inko took a deep breath, her gaze softening as she slowly sat down on the edge of his bed. "I... I don't know what to say, Izuku. This is... a lot to take in. I never imagined..."

"I know," Izuku said quietly, sitting down beside her. "It's a lot. But I didn't want to keep it from you anymore."

Inko sat there, still processing everything, her hands resting in her lap. The disbelief hadn't left her face, and though she was listening, Izuku could see that she was struggling to make sense of it all. The idea of ancient powers, a long-dead relative training her son through dreams, and those Flames... it was too much all at once.

Seeing her reaction, Izuku realized he had to tell her more—something that might make it all click. He needed her to understand that this wasn't just some dream or fantasy. It was real, and it had been affecting him in ways he hadn't explained before.

"Mom," he began again, more gently this time, "I know this is a lot to take in, but there's more I need to explain. You've noticed how I've been... different these past few months, right?"

Inko blinked, still looking at him uncertainly. "Different? What do you mean?"

Izuku hesitated but then pressed on. "You know how I've been more clumsy lately, bumping into things, losing my balance. You even mentioned it a few times. It wasn't like me to be so out of it."

Inko nodded slowly. "Yes, I noticed. I thought maybe you were distracted or stressed... or just... growing up. But that wasn't it, was it?"

"No, it wasn't," Izuku said, shaking his head. "It's because of something Tsuna explained to me. It's called Hyper Intuition—a heightened sense that people in our family have, especially those tied to the Vongola. It lets me sense everything—movements, energy, emotions—before they happen. But at first... I couldn't control it."

Inko's brow furrowed. "You mean... you were sensing things all the time? Is that why you were always so... disoriented?"

Izuku nodded. "Exactly. It's like my brain was overloaded with information. I was picking up on things before they even happened, and it threw me off balance. That's why I was stumbling around and losing focus. I couldn't filter it all out."

Inko's eyes widened slightly as she began to understand. "So that's why... when you asked me for advice a while ago... you said you needed a way to block things out. And I suggested music..."

Izuku smiled faintly. "Yeah. The music helped a lot. You didn't know it at the time, but that was the only way I could drown out the Hyper Intuition for a while. It gave me something to focus on so I didn't feel so overwhelmed by everything around me."

Inko pressed a hand to her chest, her voice softening. "I didn't realize... I just thought you were stressed out with everything going on at school."

"It's more than that," Izuku explained gently. "It was my Hyper Intuition making me clumsy and scattered. I didn't know how to control it, and it was throwing me off. But thanks to you and the music, I found a way to manage it, at least a little."

Inko looked down, her hands twisting together in her lap. "So all this time... I thought it was something small, something normal. But it was because of this... power you have."

"Yeah," Izuku said, his voice soft but firm. "It's been part of the training, learning how to handle it. I didn't tell you before because I wasn't sure how to explain it. I didn't want you to worry."

Inko sighed deeply, her face a mix of concern and realization. "Izuku... I just wish you would've told me sooner. I could've helped."

"I know, and I'm sorry," Izuku said, his voice filled with sincerity. "But I didn't want to worry you with something that sounded... impossible. And I wasn't sure if it was even real at first. But it is, and now... now you've seen it with your own eyes."

Inko sat quietly for a moment, taking in everything Izuku had said. The weight of it all was clear on her face—her son had been going through so much more than she ever realized. But now that she had some understanding of his Hyper Intuition and how it had affected him, she couldn't stop thinking about what she had seen earlier.

"The Flames," she said softly, looking up at him. "What... what else is there? I saw those Flames, Izuku. What are they? You said they're not a quirk, but... I don't understand. How can you make fire like that?"

Izuku paused, his throat tightening. He knew this part would be difficult to explain, especially since his mother had seen the Flames firsthand. She was scared, and rightfully so—anyone would be if they saw fire coming from someone's hands without explanation. He took a deep breath, knowing he had to be completely honest.

"Those Flames are... part of a power I've been learning about. They're called Sky Flames," Izuku explained slowly. "They're not like regular fire. It's a form of energy—Hadou—that comes from inside me. Lots of people can use Flames, not just people connected to the Vongola. But in my case, the Flames I have are linked to the Vongola because of our family history."

Inko's eyes widened slightly. "Energy? So... people outside of our family can do this too?"

Izuku nodded. "Yeah, there are people all over who can use Flames. It's tied to the Wave Energy that flows through everyone. Tsuna told me that most people only have one type of Wave they can use to make Flames, but it's not always like this. My Flames just happen to be Sky Flames, which are a little special."

"Special? How?" Inko asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.

Izuku hesitated but continued. "The Sky Flames aren't just fire. They're pure energy, and they're tied to something deeper—harmony. Sky Flames have the ability to bring things together, to balance and unify. That's what makes them unique. But the important thing is that they're part of my life energy, part of the Wave Energy inside me. I've been training to control them so they don't hurt anyone."

Inko looked down at her hands, her mind racing to process the idea of her son controlling something so powerful. "So... they're not dangerous?"

"No," Izuku said quickly, shaking his head. "I mean, they can be, but only if I lose control. That's why Tsuna's been training me. He's taught me how to focus, how to make sure the Flames don't get out of hand. I wouldn't have shown them to you if I didn't think I could handle them."

Inko still seemed unsure, her brow furrowing. "But what do they do? What can you do with them?"

Izuku took a deep breath, thinking carefully about his answer. "The Flames can be used in a lot of ways. They can enhance my strength, create barriers, or be used in combat. But the Sky Flames specifically are about balance and harmony—they're special because they can unify things, bring everything together. That's why they're considered one of the strongest types of Flames."

Inko swallowed, still looking concerned but slightly more understanding. "So... that's what you've been working on all this time? Learning how to control these Flames?"

Izuku nodded, then hesitated, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Well... 'control' is a bit of a strong word."

Inko raised an eyebrow, her concern shifting into confusion. "What do you mean?"

Izuku scratched the back of his neck, feeling a little sheepish. "This was actually... the first time I've ever really tried to use the Flames. So, uh... I guess I'm still figuring things out."

For a moment, Inko just stared at him, her mouth falling open slightly. "This was your first time?!"

Izuku winced, holding up his hands quickly. "But I didn't blow anything up, right? So, I'd say that's a pretty good start!"

Inko let out a shaky breath, a mix of exasperation and relief in her expression. "Izuku... you scared me half to death!"

Izuku couldn't help but laugh nervously. "Sorry, Mom."

Inko shook her head, her worry still evident but softened by her son's honesty. "Well, just... please be careful. I don't think my heart can take much more of this."

Inko's worried expression lingered, but the tension between them had softened slightly after Izuku's nervous joke. However, her concern didn't fully fade, and she seemed to sense there was still more he wasn't saying.

Izuku's smile faltered a little as his mind drifted to the bigger picture—the Tri-ni-sette, the Flames, and the responsibility tied to it all. The reality of the situation settled heavily in his chest. He knew he had to control this power, but it wasn't just about the Flames—it was about everything Tsuna had told him. The ancient power, the balance of life... it was far more than just training.

He swallowed dryly, the weight of that history suddenly feeling overwhelming. The memory of Tsuna's explanations about the Vongola Rings, the Mare Rings, and the now-extinct Arcobaleno Pacifiers raced through his mind. It all seemed so impossibly large, like something far beyond his control. He didn't even know where to start explaining it to his mother.

As if sensing the shift in his mood, Inko's eyes narrowed slightly. "Izuku... is there something else you're not telling me?" She leaned in a little closer, her voice soft but pressing. "How... how is this even possible? Where did all of this come from?"

Izuku froze, feeling a lump form in his throat. Oh no... The last thing he wanted was to explain the Tri-ni-sette, the ancient powers that influenced the balance of life itself. He felt a pang of anxiety as he realized that diving into that history might send his mother into an even deeper panic. How could he even begin to tell her that these Flames were connected to something so much bigger, that the world's balance might actually depend on them?

His heart raced, and all he could think was: I'd rather die than try to explain this right now.

Inko stared at him, clearly waiting for an answer, but Izuku's mind was swirling. How could he possibly make this make sense? Every word he tried to form felt stuck in his throat. "Well... you see... it's..." His voice trailed off, and he desperately wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole. How am I supposed to explain the Tri-ni-sette without making this worse?

Izuku swallowed hard, knowing there was no way to avoid it. His mother's concerned eyes were locked onto him, waiting for an explanation. He could feel sweat forming on his forehead as he fumbled for the right words. Just... start small, he thought, but even that felt impossible.

"Well, um," he began, his voice shaky. "It's not just about the Flames... There's more. You see, these Flames are connected to something called the Tri-ni-sette, which is this ancient power... It's tied to the balance of life itself."

Inko's eyes widened slightly, but she stayed silent, letting him continue. So, he pushed on, though every word felt heavier than the last.

"There are three sets of powerful artifacts: the Vongola Rings, which are tied to our family, the Mare Rings, and there used to be the Arcobaleno Pacifiers—but those don't exist anymore. Together, they're supposed to maintain the balance of life on Earth. That's why Tsuna... well, why he's been training me."

He glanced at his mother, and his stomach dropped. Her complexion was paling by the second, her eyes growing wide as the full weight of what he was saying began to hit her. Oh no... He forced himself to keep going, though every fiber of his being wanted to stop.

"These artifacts... the Rings and Pacifiers, they were split from ancient stones long ago, and they have these Miracles tied to space and time. The Vongola Rings, like the one I'll have someday, can even connect with people from different generations..."

Suddenly, Inko's face froze, and she let out a sharp, almost breathless shout, "What?!"

Izuku winced, his heart sinking. Yep, this was a mistake.

"I-I know it sounds crazy," he said quickly, holding up his hands in a helpless gesture, "but that's what it is. The Vongola Rings are passed down, and the Flames are tied to them, and... well, it all helps keep the balance of life in check."

Inko's eyes were wide, her face drained of color. She stared at him as though she couldn't decide whether to believe him or call someone for help.

"Balance of life? Ancient powers? Izuku... this... this is insane!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with both panic and disbelief. "Are you telling me you're involved in something that controls the entire world's balance?"

Izuku rubbed the back of his neck, feeling smaller and smaller as her reaction hit him. "Um... yes?" he answered, wincing.

Inko took a deep breath, clearly trying to steady herself, but her eyes were still filled with shock. "Izuku, I—"

Izuku interrupted quickly, "Look, I know it sounds like a lot, and trust me, I'm still figuring it out myself, but that's why I've been training. It's why Tsuna's been helping me. This power... these Flames, they're part of something much bigger than us, but I'm learning to control it. I swear I'm doing everything I can."

Inko just stared at him, her breath shaky, and Izuku knew in that moment: I've got a huge problem.

She could hardly believe what she was hearing. Her son—her Izuku—was talking about powers tied to ancient artifacts, the balance of life itself, and Rings that connected generations. It was all too much. The words tumbled out of Izuku's mouth, and with each sentence, the world around her seemed to tilt. This wasn't just about some hidden quirk or an unusual power. This was... something else entirely.

Balance of life? Ancient powers? The whole world?!

Her mind raced, her heart pounding in her chest. She could barely process it. The Flames, the Tri-ni-sette, the Vongola Rings—how could her son be involved in something so enormous? What did this mean for him, for their lives? Panic swirled through her, an overwhelming sense of helplessness closing in. It was all too much.

But then, something shifted. As Izuku stood there, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck, his face anxious yet determined, a memory flashed before her.

She saw him—young Izuku, no more than four or five years old, sitting in the doctor's office. The despair on his face when the words "no quirk" had been spoken. That crushing moment when his dream of being a hero seemed to vanish right in front of him. She had never forgotten the way his eyes had filled with hopelessness, the way his small hands had clenched at his sides, and how, no matter what she had said afterward, she couldn't take away his pain.

But now... she looked at him again. The boy standing in front of her wasn't hopeless. He wasn't defeated. Despite the reluctance in his eyes, and yes, even the fear she could see flickering just beneath the surface, there was something else—something stronger.

Resolve. Determination.

Izuku was scared, but he was also standing tall. He was telling her the truth, facing her with the same courage he'd shown through everything else. His dream had never faded—it had only transformed. And now, she realized, he wasn't just trying to become a hero. He already had powers, and with those powers came an incredible responsibility.

In that moment, something clicked inside her. The panic that had been rising, the disbelief, all of it began to ebb away. There was no going back. Her son was different now—he had powers she didn't fully understand, but he also had the resolve to see it through.

She inhaled deeply, steadying herself. This wasn't about her fears anymore. This was about Izuku, his journey, and the responsibility that was now tied to him. It made sense in a strange, terrifying way—it was exactly what Izuku had always wanted. He had always dreamed of protecting people, of making a difference, of becoming a hero. And now, with these Flames and this ancient power, that's exactly what he was preparing to do.

Inko looked at her son again, the panic in her chest softening as she saw him clearly for what he was—not a helpless child, but a young man ready to take on the world, even if it terrified him.

"Izuku..." she whispered, her voice soft but steady. "This... this is a lot. But I can see it now. You're not the same boy who sat in that doctor's office all those years ago." She reached out, gently placing her hand on his arm. "You have power now. And... responsibility."

Izuku swallowed, his eyes wide as he nodded, unsure of what to say.

Inko gave him a small, trembling smile. "And I can see that you're ready for it."

Izuku stood there, heart pounding, as his mother's words sank in. She understood. Despite the insanity of the situation—the Flames, the ancient powers—she believed in him. She acknowledged his responsibility, his power, and the path he was on.

His vision blurred as tears welled up in his eyes. He hadn't expected this. He had thought she might panic, tell him to stop... but instead, she had accepted it. Accepted him.

"Mom..." he choked out, his voice trembling with emotion, but before he could say anything more, Inko spoke again, her eyes lighting up with a sudden thought.

"Wait," she said, an idea forming in her mind. "Izuku... you said anyone could use Hadou and Flames, right?"

Izuku blinked, wiping his eyes, trying to catch up. "Y-Yeah... anyone can, in theory."

Inko nodded, still looking overwhelmed but now with a glimmer of something else—curiosity, maybe even hope. "I don't understand everything yet," she said softly, "but maybe... if I could be part of it—if you could teach me—I'd feel better about all of this."

Izuku's jaw dropped, his tears forgotten as her words sank in. "Teach you?"

Inko smiled, more at ease now that the idea had formed. "Yes. You said anyone can learn, right? I know I'm not young or strong, but maybe if I learned a little about this Hadou, or how the Flames work, I wouldn't feel so... helpless. At least then I'd know what you're dealing with."

Izuku was stunned. The idea of teaching his mother—his mom—how to use Hadou, maybe even produce Flames, had never crossed his mind. She had always been the one protecting him, looking out for him. Now, she wanted to step into his world, to understand the power he was learning to control.

"B-But Mom," he stammered, trying to process it, "it's not easy... It's a lot of training, and—"

"Izuku," Inko interrupted gently, her smile soft but determined. "I know it's not easy. And I'm not asking to do what you're doing. I just want to understand. If I can be part of this, even in a small way... maybe I won't feel so scared about it."

Izuku stared at her, the lump in his throat growing. His mother—his source of comfort and security—was now asking him to help her be part of this strange, dangerous new world he had entered.

He swallowed hard, nodding slowly, his voice barely above a whisper. "O-Okay, Mom... I'll teach you."

Inko's smile widened, her eyes softening with relief. "Thank you, Izuku." She squeezed his arm gently. "We'll figure this out together."

Izuku's heart swelled. The idea of teaching his mom—even just a small part of what he was learning—filled him with a sense of joy. His excitement bubbled over as he started thinking out loud.

"This is gonna be amazing, Mom!" he said, his eyes lighting up. "We'll start with the basics—learning how to feel the Hadou, just like I did. Don't worry, I'll guide you through it step by step! And before you know it, you'll be able to use the Dying Will Flames—"

Inko froze.

Her face, which had just softened with relief moments ago, went completely still, her eyes widening as she stared at Izuku. The room fell into an awkward silence.

Slowly, her lips parted, and in a barely controlled voice, she repeated, "Dying Will Flames?"

Izuku's grin faltered. "Uh... yeah, the Dying Will Flames..."

Inko's face turned pale again, her body tensing as she stared at her son. Her voice rose. "Did you say DYING Will Flames? As in... dying?"

Izuku immediately waved his hands frantically, his face flushing with panic. "W-Wait! It's not what it sounds like! I-I mean, yes, they're called that, but it's not... you know, about actual dying! It's just a name!"

Inko's eyes were wide as saucers, her breathing quickening. "Not about actual dying? I—Izuku! What have you been getting yourself into?!"

"Mom, it's fine, I swear!" Izuku tried to explain, but it was too late. Inko was already spiraling into another freak-out, her hands flying to her head as she paced back and forth, muttering to herself. "Dying Will Flames... What have I gotten myself into..."

Izuku stood there helplessly, watching as his mother circled the room, her panic growing again. He had finally calmed her down, and now he'd gone and said the one thing guaranteed to send her back into a frenzy.

"Mom, it's okay, I promise!" Izuku called after her, barely able to contain the awkward grin spreading across his face.

Maybe... They sould start with something easier.

That's it for now.

Chapter 3 is still in the draft phase so gonna take some time to get it done.

Please leave a comment...please.

See ya later!