The moment I finished eating, my mother stood up.
"No delays," she said gently, already reaching for her bag. "We're going now."
My father nodded. "Get your things, Nagato."
On our way to the doctor, the streets—I'd seen them a dozen times before felt different.
Information flooded my brain on its own, things I wouldn't usually notice, shapes textures, colors, movements. Everything was different from before.
--------<>---------
We finally arrived.
The clinic smelled of disinfectant.
I sat between my parents. Across from us, a doctor scrolled through a tablet, his expression neutral.
"You said his quirk just manifested this morning?" he asked.
"Yes," my mother replied. "And his eyes changed along with it."
The doctor's gaze shifted toward me.
"Can you describe what you're experiencing, Nagato?" he asked.
"I can… make things slip. Or not slip."
"That's all?"
I nodded.
"Show me," he said.
My father handed me a pen. I held it up, focused, and lowered the friction.
The pen slipped from my fingers instantly, clattering onto the floor.
I picked it up again, placed it on the table, and increased the friction. I pushed. Nothing.
"Interesting," he murmured, fingers tapping lightly against the tablet.
"Do you need to touch the object?"
I shook my head. "Not always."
"…And your eyes?"
"I get a headache if I don't cover them,"
"That's all?"
I nodded again.
The doctor typed something into his tablet, then looked up and smiled.
"You're perfectly fine."
My mother blinked, hesitant. "Are you sure? And his eyes…?"
He nodded, adjusting his glasses. "Yes. Quirk manifestations can affect the body in unusual ways. Some abilities put extra strain on specific organs or systems. The eyes, being a primary conduit for perception and sensory input, can sometimes show temporary strain or unusual sensitivity. But it's not dangerous— Probably just a side effect"
"It's not uncommon," he added casually, as if this explained everything.
My father frowned slightly. "And the headache ?"
The doctor leaned back in his chair. "It should stabilize over time. For now, it's best to let him cover his eyes as needed and avoid overstimulation. With patience, his body will adjust naturally."
My father stood up almost immediately. "Then I guess we're done for today."
He thanked the doctor, and we left the clinic.
--------<>---------
By the afternoon, we were back home.
After visiting the doctor, we went to register the quirk. The registration went smoothly and the quirk was officially recorded.
I stepped into my room and shut the door behind me.
I took my sunglasses off.
"Time for some experimentation."
If I was going to live with the Six Eyes, I needed to understand them.
From what I remembered, they gave Gojo Satoru absurd perception and near-perfect energy efficiency—but the anime never really broke it down. Or maybe I just hadn't been paying enough attention. Either way, I'd figure it out myself.
I walked over to the window and pushed it open. Cool air brushed against my face as I looked outside, my gaze settling on a bird perched across the street.
At first, it looked normal.
Then I focused.
The world sharpened.
The bird… expanded in detail. Feathers layered over each other in perfect clarity, each strand visible. The texture of its beak, the gloss in its eyes.
I narrowed my focus even further.
I wasn't just seeing it anymore.
I could sense it.
A faint rhythm pulsed within its body.
A heartbeat. I couldn't literally see the organ, but there was a vague outline, like heat vision. Blood flow traced paths beneath its skin.
I held it there for some time, then—
I stopped.
It felt like holding a heavy weight. The deeper I pushed my perception, the harder it became to maintain.
"Alright. Next."
Instead of focusing on structure, I shifted to motion.
The moment I did, everything slowed.
The bird's smallest movements stretched out, each twitch of its head unfolding in deliberate, fluid frames, wings adjusting, claws tightening on the bark.
It wasn't that time had actually slowed. I was just… processing faster.
"Interesting…"
I closed my eyes. I could still see. The world reformed itself in my mind, stripped of color, reduced to something like a three-dimensional wireframe.
Shapes, outlines, spatial relationships—everything mapped out in clean, simplified lines.
I focused on the bird again. It was there—clear enough to track—but without the overwhelming depth from before. Then I shifted to motion. Time slowed again, but not as much.
I opened my eyes slowly, letting the normal world return.
I glanced at the sunglasses resting on my desk, picked them up, and slid them back on. The strain dulled slightly.
They weren't opaque, which meant too much information was still getting through.
I exhaled, adjusting them slightly.
"I'll need something better…"
A proper blindfold instead of that piece of cloth, something that blocks light without making me look like an idiot.
Anyways... let's get back to training.
Before our visit to the doctor I had already done some tests with my quirk and found out that :
1 — I can affect any object with a density of a football.
2 — I can affect two objects at the same time as long as their density combined does not exceed that of a football.
2 — I can target one area on an object or a surface - the previous rule is aplied.
3 — I can influence moving objects, but the effect is weaker.
4 — Distance and line of sight don't matter. As long as I can perceive the target clearly, I can affect it—even behind me.
There are some limitations, but they don't feel permanent.
If anything, they feel like the result of a quirk that's still underdeveloped. A good analogy would be muscles: the more you train them, the stronger they become. quirks in general should work the same way.
But there's a catch.
I don't feel any fatigue. No strain, no drain. Using my quirk feels almost effortless.
The Six Eyes is probably regulating my stamina usage, somehow optimizing it.
That aside… there was still one more thing.
5 — The fifth conclusion.
I activated Atomic Focus.
One…
I locked onto a small patch of air in front of me, molecules packed so tightly like woven fabric—about thirty by thirty centimeters.
Two…
I stretched my hand forward. And stopped. My palm met something, an invisible surface, like reality itself had hardened just enough to push back.
Three…
I cut my focus instantly, staggering back as a sharp pain lanced through my head.
My hands pressed against my temples, breath uneven. But I was smiling.
Three seconds.
That was all I could hold it for.
"The Infinity…" I muttered
"I can replicate it."