Chapter Text
“My name is Saiki Kusuo. I am twenty-six years old, and against my will, I have become a cliché.
Ten years ago, I broke the Volcano Time Loop that kept me trapped in high school for what felt like centuries. I thought saving the world would grant me a lifetime of total, undisturbed mediocrity.
Instead, I am currently standing in a kitchen wearing an apron, waiting for the exact millisecond a piece of white bread springs out of a toaster.
How did this happen? The answer is simple. Ten years ago, Aso's apparent favorite child, Kokomi, decided she wanted me. Because of her reality-bending Divine Luck, the universe has spent a decade shifting probability in her favor. The fact that we are married is no coincidence. So do not bother wondering whether I actually like her or not—it is just her powers influencing me.
(Good grief.)
Though technically, she is ten days older than me, a fact she occasionally uses to claim seniority when choosing our vacation spots. Currently, she is on the other side of the world working as an international supermodel. She throws herself entirely into her work, meaning the most we manage is a single phone call each day. I won't admit it out loud, but the house gets excessively quiet when she isn't here radiating that blinding light of hers.
At the very least, she is currently thousands of miles away from her eccentric brother, Makoto, who is shooting a movie. I do not want her, or anyone for that matter, within 200 meters of that incestuous weirdo. If my clairvoyance ever detects him entering that radius, I will teleport him into the upper atmosphere without hesitation.
You might think that because of my partner's well-paid career I would just sit on the couch all day eating Coffee Jelly. Despite that being my absolute dream, you are dead wrong. I utterly refuse to be such a terrible partner. I am a house husband, but I also have a real job as a manga editor. Unlike my father, I do not lick shoes every day and am actually helpful to the mangakas.
Saiki adjusted his green glasses.
My creep of a brother, Kusuke, invented them to prevent me from seeing through objects. While my abilities are strong enough that I can still force my way through, it now requires genuine effort instead of being a constant strain. For the first time in my life, looking at my family doesn't immediately treat me to a view of their muscular and skeletal systems.
Which brings me to the real source of my daily disasters. My children.
"Good morning, Father."
Entering the kitchen is my eldest son, Satou Saiki. I named him without any special inspiration; the name simply came to me. Satou is the closest thing to normal in this family. He received his male benefactor's exact physical appearance—he looks identical to me, minus the control devices and the hair—but from his female benefactor, he inherited psychic abilities... which amounts to absolutely none. He cannot read a single thought or levitate a spoon. To me, his total ordinariness is a pristine, beautiful masterpiece.
And then, the ceiling rattles.
A small, three-year-old force of nature drops straight through the solid plaster, landing perfectly on the linoleum floor.
"I found my shoe!" shouts Kuriko.
Kuriko Saiki II. Try to guess who named whom. Teruhashi insisted on naming her after my female form, which still feels incredibly strange to say out loud.
Kuriko truly inherited the best of both worlds. She possesses her parents' psychic abilities, along with her mother's beauty and uncanny luck. Because of her Divine Luck, she wields her powers with far greater control than I ever did. She chooses when to activate them, doesn't suffer from endless headaches from hearing hundreds of voices, and doesn't see people naked if she stares too long.
In essence, she is a tiny, walking Mary Sue. To make matters worse, she has somehow also gained Aiura's psychometry and Toritsuka's spirit-medium abilities. She is currently floating three inches off the ground, casually using telekinesis to stack building blocks while having a deep, telepathic conversation with the ghost of a Heian Era Sorcerer. Who just happens to be the strongest in history.
Aside from Kusuo Saiki of course.
I am 26 years old, and I find myself just a bit jealous of my three-year-old daughter.
"Kuriko, shoes are not permitted on the kitchen table," Satou says, completely unfazed by his sister's spectral playdate. "Furthermore, using teleportation to retrieve footwear from the attic creates an unnecessary draft."
The toaster suddenly launches the bread at Mach 2 directly toward Kuriko's face. Before Saiki can even twitch a finger to save her, her passive luck kicks in. The bread hits a stray draft from the open window, flips perfectly in mid-air, catches a slice of ham from the fridge that happened to fall open, and lands neatly on her plate as a fully formed sandwich.
(Good grief. She is completely unstoppable.)
Now, with all the context you need, you can start actually reading this stupidity.”