Holy moly! Would you look at that!!! No way you people already reached 200 powerstones!! Keep it up!
Here is the bonus chapter.
Next bonus chapter at 300 powerstones!! Let's see if we can reach it.
--<<>>--
The walk back from the grave was quiet, but it wasn't the heavy, suffocating silence of the night before. It was a peaceful silence. The kind that exists after a storm has scrubbed the sky blue.
They sat in the living room. Honoka was curled up on the white sofa with a book she wasn't reading. Akira was lying on the rug, staring at the ceiling.
If that falls, he mused, it would hit the coffee table first. Mass times acceleration... yeah, the table is toast.
"So," Honoka spoke, closing the book with a snap.
Akira didn't flinch. "So."
"We have three weeks left before we have to head back to Musutafu," she said, stretching her arms over her head. "I took the entire month off. Nezu is covering my administrative duties, and the hospital knows not to call me unless Godzilla attacks."
She looked down at him. "What do you want to do?"
Akira sat up, crossing his legs. He frowned, his brow furrowing in suspicion.
"What do you mean?" he asked slowly. "I thought we were doing the 'Hell Week' protocol. Isn't this the part where you drop me into the ocean with weights tied to my ankles and tell me to 'swim like a Phoenix'?"
Honoka stared at him. Then, she burst out laughing.
"Oh, my sweet, traumatized child," she giggled, wiping a tear from her eye. "I was messing with you. Do you really think I'd make you train on vacation? After everything?"
Akira blinked. "Yes. Absolutely. You once made me do burpees during a commercial break."
"That was for your agility," she dismissed with a wave of her hand. "But no. Not this time. You've worked hard, Akira. You awakened your quirk. You mastered the basics of Phoenix Drive. You cooked me breakfast."
She smiled, her expression soft. "You deserve a break. A real one. No training. No lectures. Just us."
She stood up and spread her arms dramatically, channeling her inner theater kid.
"So, tell me, child! What is your wish? The world is your oyster. Or at least, the part of the world we can legally travel to without a visa on short notice."
Akira paused.
He looked at his mother. He looked at the ocean outside.
A wish.
In his past life, he had never traveled. He had seen the world through screens — anime, games, documentaries. He knew Tokyo from Persona. He knew Kyoto from Rurouni Kenshin. But he had never been there physically.
He stood up, a spark of genuine, childish excitement lighting up his red eyes.
"We're going to tour Japan!" he yelled, pointing at the horizon. "The whole thing! North to South! I want to eat ramen in Hokkaido and get sunburned in Okinawa!"
Honoka stared at him for a beat, surprised by the outburst. Then, her grin matched his.
"You got it, brat," she declared. "Let's spend our last day here relaxing, and tomorrow, we move."
Akira nodded enthusiastically, his mind already racing with logistics. "Okay, I'll check the train schedules. The Shinkansen is fast, but if we want to hit Hokkaido, we might need to book a domestic flight. Economy is probably booked, but maybe we can find — "
"Akira."
"Yeah?"
"Why would we check train schedules?"
Honoka walked over to the desk and picked up her phone. "We can just fly."
"Right, flights," Akira corrected. "Like I said, booking might be tight—"
"No, dear," she interrupted, smiling that terrifyingly casual smile of the ultra-wealthy. "I mean our plane."
Akira froze.
"Our... plane?"
"The Shuzenji jet," she clarified. "It's parked at a private hangar in Nagoya. I'll just text the pilot to prep it for a cross-country tour."
Akira's jaw unhinged.
"Oh," Akira whispered, clutching his chest. "I love being rich. I really, really love being rich."
Day 1
Akira stood on the tarmac, looking up at the sleek, white Gulfstream jet with the stylized medical cross painted on the tail fin.
"It's beautiful," he murmured, wiping a fake tear.
"It's a tax write-off," Honoka corrected, walking up the stairs. "Medical transport vehicle. Technically. Now get in."
The interior was nicer than Akira's first apartment. Cream leather seats, mahogany tables, and a fridge fully stocked with every soda brand in existence. Akira spent the first hour of the flight to Kyoto spinning in the captain's chair until he got dizzy, while Honoka sipped sparkling water and read a fashion magazine.
"This is the life," Akira groaned, sprawled out on a sofa that converted into a bed. "I can never go back to commercial. I've been ruined."
"Don't get used to it," Honoka warned. "If your grades drop, you're taking the night bus."
"Noted. Straight A's forever."
Day 3: Kyoto
Kyoto was exactly like the anime, except with more humidity and tourists.
They visited Kinkaku-ji, the Golden Pavilion. It shimmered in the sunlight, reflecting perfectly off the pond. It was breathtaking.
"Structurally," Akira muttered, squinting at the gold leaf, "that is a nightmare to maintain. Imagine the oxidation. The upkeep costs must be astronomical."
"Akira," Honoka sighed, adjusting her sun hat. "Stop auditing the temple and take a selfie with me."
They took a hundred photos. Honoka insisted on wearing a rented kimono for the afternoon walk through the Gion district. She looked elegant, fitting perfectly into the historic streets. Akira refused the male kimono ("I am a tracksuit connoisseur, Mom, I have a brand to maintain"), but he agreed to carry her bag.
They stopped at a traditional tea house. Akira tried matcha that was so bitter his soul left his body for a second.
"It's an acquired taste," Honoka laughed, watching his face scrunch up.
"It tastes like I licked a lawnmower," Akira wheezed, chugging water. "Why is this a delicacy?"
"Because it's sophisticated."
"It's grass soup, Mom. It's expensive grass soup."
Day 7: Osaka
If Kyoto was dignified, Osaka was loud, bright, and delicious.
They hit Dotonbori at night. The neon signs reflected off the canal water. The Glico Man sign beamed down at them. The smell of fried food was thick in the air.
"Challenge," Honoka announced, pointing at a takoyaki stand. "Who can eat more?"
Akira looked at his mother. "You're a petite woman. I have a metabolism boosted by Phoenix Drive. You will lose."
Honoka cracked her knuckles. "I'm a Shuzenji. Our quirk burns calories like a furnace. Bring it on, brat."
By the end of the night, they were surrounded by empty paper boats. Akira was slumped against a railing, defeated. Honoka was finishing her twentieth octopus ball, looking unbothered.
"How?" Akira groaned, clutching his stomach. "Where do you put it?"
"Internal compression," she winked. "Now, I saw a cheesecake stand down the street. Dessert?"
Akira whimpered.
Day 12: Hiroshima
The tone shifted when they reached Hiroshima.
They visited the Peace Memorial Park. The Genbaku Dome stood as a skeletal reminder of the past.
Akira stood in front of the monument, reading the names.
In my old world, he thought, this happened too. Some tragedies are universal constants.
He looked at his hand. He had the power to heal, to fix broken things. But some things couldn't be fixed. Some things just had to be remembered.
Honoka placed a hand on his shoulder. She didn't say anything. She didn't need to. They stood there for a long time, just two people acknowledging the weight of history before moving on.
Day 15: Hokkaido
They flew north to escape the humidity. Hokkaido was crisp, cool, and filled with fields of lavender that stretched to the horizon.
They rented a car and drove through the Furano flower fields. It looked like a desktop wallpaper come to life.
"This smells like laundry detergent," Akira noted, sticking his head out the window.
"That's because laundry detergent smells like lavender, genius," Honoka laughed.
They stopped at a farm famous for its melons. Akira took one bite of the bright orange fruit and almost cried.
"This melon costs 5,000 yen," he whispered reverently. "And I can taste every yen. It tastes like capitalism and sugar."
Later, they visited a bear park. Akira ended up in a staring contest with a brown bear through the glass.
"I could take him," Akira stated.
"He weighs four hundred kilos," Honoka deadpanned.
"I have Phoenix Drive. I'd speed-blitz him. Float like a butterfly, sting like a... healing firebird."
"If you fight the bear, I'm not healing you," Honoka said, dragging him away.
Day 20: Akihabara
The return to Tokyo brought them to Akihabara.
For Honoka, it was a confusing maze of maids handing out flyers and loud electronic music.
He dragged his mother into the Mandarake complex. He spent three hours digging through bins of retro games. He found a mint-condition Game Boy Color.
"Akira," Honoka said, holding up a dusty cartridge. "Why are we buying technology from the Stone Age? You have a PS5 at home."
"This is heritage, Mom," Akira said solemnly, clutching a copy of Pokémon Red. "This is where it all began. You wouldn't understand. It's about the pixels."
"It's about hoarding," she countered, but she bought it for him anyway.
As they walked out, laden with bags of figures and games, they passed a giant screen showing a hero interview. All Might was laughing, saving a bus full of people.
Akira stopped. He watched the Symbol of Peace.
He's huge, Akira thought. Even on a screen, his presence is overwhelming.
"He's incredible, isn't he?" Honoka said, following his gaze. "I met him once. At a gala."
"Really?"
"Yeah. He's surprisingly polite." She looked at Akira. "One day, you'll stand next to him. Not as a fan, but as a peer."
Akira looked at the screen, then at his reflection in the shop window. The red hair. The feather mark.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "Maybe."
Day 25: Okinawa
Their final stop was the tropical islands of Okinawa.
They stayed in a resort that was built over the water. The ocean here was a different blue than at their cabin — it was more turquoise in color, and clear as glass.
They went snorkeling. Akira saw a sea turtle. He tried to mentally communicate with it. The turtle ignored him and ate some seagrass.
"I think he sensed my aura," Akira claimed later on the boat.
"He sensed you were in his way," Honoka corrected, applying sunscreen.
On their last evening, they sat on the balcony of their bungalow, watching the sunset. It was a different sunset than the one at the cabin. That one had been heavy with grief. This one was light. Gold and pink.
Honoka sipped a cocktail. Akira drank a mango smoothie.
"This was a good idea," Honoka said, looking out at the water. "Touring the country. I haven't done this since... well, since before you were born."
"I have good ideas sometimes," Akira grinned. "About 10% of the time. The rest is just static and video game trivia."
Honoka smiled, reaching over to squeeze his hand. "Thank you, Akira. For making me leave the house. For making me laugh."
"That's the job," he shrugged. "Tank and court jester. I'm a multi-class hero."
"You certainly are."
She stood up, finishing her drink.
"Well. Vacation is officially over tomorrow. We fly back to Musutafu in the morning, but before that, we're gonna meet my friend, Sasha Izumi."
Akira stared at her for a while and then yelled.
"A CREATURE LIKE YOU HAS A FRIEND!?!?!?"
--<<>>--
A little slice life chapter.
Plus if you want, you can read up to +10 chapters (It's 9 right now, the final advanced chapter will be up soon) and support me you can alway join my P@treaon. (Just search up Joe_Mama p@treon on google.)