She lay on the futon, her body aching from the birth of her fourth child, Shoto, his tiny form resting beside her. His soft breaths were a brief comfort, but dread loomed heavy in her heart. She reached out to touch him, trembling as she did so. Shoto was innocent, unaware of the future Enji had already carved for him. Her husband, Enji, stood over them, his eyes gleaming with triumph. Shoto was everything he had been waiting for, the perfect child, born with both fire and ice. This was the culmination of his obsession, the legacy he had sacrificed their lives to achieve.

For years, she had been nothing more than a vessel for Enji’s ambition, chosen solely for her Quirk, a perfect counterbalance to his own. He had never loved her—what affection he offered was cold, mechanical, a duty fulfilled. Yet she had stayed, enduring for the sake of her children. Toya, Fuyumi, Natsuo—each of them had crumbled under the weight of Enji’s impossible expectations. None of them had been enough for him. And so, she had given him more, at the cost of her body and soul.

She loved her children with every part of her being, desperately trying to protect them from Enji's harshness, though she was too weak to stand against him. His presence consumed their home, his ambitions suffocating them all. Now, as she cradled Shoto, she knew this child would face an even greater burden. Enji had won, and Shoto, her innocent baby, would bear the brunt of his father’s twisted dreams. All she could do was stay, loving and protecting them as best as she could, knowing it would never be enough.