{Chapter 3: Ripples of Water}
Kurama adjusted his school uniform as he walked through the crowded hallway, his expression calm and composed.
Inside the mental hub, Kuroshio watched through a controlled link. The separation he had painstakingly achieved earlier made monitoring Kurama easier, though it still demanded focus.
"Good," Kuroshio muttered. "No trouble so far."
Kurama navigated through the day with practiced ease, attending classes, scribbling notes, and nodding absentmindedly at teachers. No one suspected a thing, but as the avatar sat in class, a small notification blinked to life in Kuroshio's mental space.
[System Notification]
Congratulations! As a new user, you've been granted one free universe ticket.
Kuroshio leaned back on his bed, reading the floating text in front of him. "A free ticket, huh? Guess they're trying to hook me in early."
The Reality Travel system had been strangely quiet since activating, only offering a basic explanation of its functions. Most of the power seemed to revolve around unlocking universes, traveling between them, and collecting something called "Karma Points."
The mention of a free ticket made Kuroshio's a bit excited.
---
While Kurama sat quietly in the back of the classroom, a glowing blue circle materialized on the ground beside Kuroshio's bed. It was a teleport pad—sleek and humming with energy.
He stared at it for a moment, then smirked. "Guess this is how it works. Fancy."
Through the link, Kuroshio directed Kurama to step onto the pad. The avatar excused itself from the classroom during a break, walking calmly to a secluded spot before disappearing from sight.
In the safety of his room, Kuroshio activated the teleport pad, and Kurama stepped onto it. Light engulfed the avatar, and then he was gone.
---
Kuroshio leaned back, closing the system interface. "Well, that's one problem out of the way. Let's see where this takes us."
---
{Hours Later}
He rubbed his temples, exhaustion creeping in. Despite the separation, the link with Kurama still drained him. Unable to fall asleep, he decided to take a walk.
The city streets were quieter than usual, with only the occasional car rumbling by. Kuroshio stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets, his breath fogging in the cool evening air.
As he walked, he let his mind drift. The original Kuroshio Kushou's memories were vivid, and oddly unnerving.
The original Kuroshio had been a boy of quiet ambition, harboring dreams of becoming a hero despite the limitations of his quirk. But Kuroshio had no such dreams.
Kuroshio found himself reflecting on the original Kuroshio Kushou. That boy, despite his limitations, wasn't weak. He had tried. Tried to push himself. Tried to matter. His quirk, though lackluster, had potential, or so he had been told. The ability to influence currents, to control flows of energy and matter—it sounded like the setup for something great. But the reality never quite matched the expectations.
Electric currents? Too weak to power anything larger than a light bulb. Water currents? He couldn't muster enough force to move more than a few droplets. Air currents? A gentle breeze on a good day.
But Kuroshio didn't think of him as pathetic or pitiful. He admired the original's stubbornness, even if it hadn't paid off.
"Failure isn't the opposite of success," he muttered, kicking a pebble off the path. "It's part of the process. He just didn't live long enough to get there.
---
Meanwhile, Kurama stepped out of an alley and onto a bustling street. Cobblestones stretched beneath his feet, and the city buzzed with life.
Kurama took a step forward, looking around. The architecture was elegant, certainly something he hasn't seen before, with wide streets and ornate lampposts.
And there it was—the Eiffel Tower, rising proudly in the distance.
Kurama stared at it for a moment, expressionless as ever. But in Kuroshio's mind, curiosity bloomed.
"Paris?" Kuroshio muttered. "That's… unexpected."
Paris.
Or at least, a version of it. He'd seen enough media to recognize the city's charm.
---
Back in Musutafu, Kuroshio's evening walk led him past a park. He stopped by a park bench, staring up at the sky. The stars were bright tonight, unobscured by clouds.
"You look at something like that," he murmured, "and you realize how small you really are. But maybe that's the point."
In another life, the original Kuroshio had probably looked at the night sky and dreamed of being something more. A hero, maybe. Someone worthy of standing beside the greats.
Kuroshio smiled faintly, his breath fogging in the cool air.
The present Kuroshio had a different dream.
"I want to live. Live to see this world crumble to dust."
{Chapter End}