Reo Yamamoto

Name: Reo Yamamoto
Psionic Aptitude: Psiblade
Weapon Style: extendable metal baton.
Career: Murse
Height: 5'10
Weight: 185
Eyes: Green
Hair: Black
Birth Date: September 20 xxxx

I walked back into the delivery room. Crying baby held Gently in my arms.

As the door closed behind me the baby cried louder. It could probably feel the tension in the room. Not the psionic tension, just the normal wave of anxiety that no one had the energy to hide. "Your baby's perfectly healthy Mr and Mrs Ito-sama." a faint signal of hope appeared in Mrs. Ito's expression. Mr. Ito didn't budge.

"What about his powers Reo?, we have the implant company on standby." There was 0 emotion or question in Mr. Ito's voice. He was used to his authority controlling a conversation before anyone got to choose their own response. His level tone wasn't enough to take the stress off of his face.

Baby hatashi will have no powers Mr Ito. You have my deepest regrets. I bowed my head.

Rage consumed his features. Anger at a world that did not gift his legacy what his family was owed. Anger at the struggle this would mean for him as he grew up. But mostly the selfish tantrum-like rage of someone who hasn't had to tolerate REAL bad news for many years. Mr Ito was notorious for lashing out when a deal went bad, or he was unable to profit from a bill that needed to be signed. His years of luxury and control left him completely unprepared for the pain of an actual sorrow. Mr. Ito stormed from the room.

Mrs. Ito showed her sadness clearly, but still held love for the healthy baby I was now handing her. She might never get over this sorrow herself, but you could see her relax as she felt the life of her son. "Thank you Reo. Of course we understand." Mrs. Ito had a reputation for handling things poorly and being easily overwhelmed. A meek shadow of her powerful husband. She never expected to increase her station in life, and truly never fit the role once it happened. In this situation a power and dignity she wasn't known for was showing. She turned calmly to follow her husband out of the room.

That baby would never feel an ounce of love or attention from it's father. A powerless human born to a man who cared about nothing else. His mother would probably leverage every bit of her husband name she could to make up for it, and he'll still be better off than most.

But he'll never compete with those truly privileged. He'll be the most esteemed of the working class or a pitied member of the elite. Overshadowed by those like me with name, power, and the opportunities they brought.

This was also the 3rd child of his father and the 2nd with his new wife. Hopefully he'd finally give up on his legacy. Understand that a son who could compete with people like me would never be gifted to him.

I walked to the door and looked out the window at Mr. Ito screaming into the phone as his wife took care of the baby and pretended not to notice. The frustration had grown on him and returned to her. I could see that the family would never recover.

I texted my father an emoji to signal the psionic severing had succeeded and thought about how similar his reaction would of been with me.

But as Mr Ito caught me watching through the window his attention snapped back like a whip. I bowed my head down and thanked the heavens I'd kept my surgical mask on...

I couldn't ever let the scum see me smile.