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Tojo Takes Flight
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Published 8/15/2026
**Chapter 1: The Button I Wasn't Supposed to Touch**
My name is Avyan. I am three years old. That's almost four, which is basically a grown-up.
My room is messy. My toys are everywhere. My blocks are in a pile, my cars are upside down, and my crayons rolled under the bed. But I don't care about any of that right now.
Right now, I am looking at my daddy's closet.
The door is open just a crack. A tiny sliver of dark. And inside, I know, is the watch.
Daddy says I cannot touch it. He says it's special. He says it's for emergencies only.
But I am three years old. Almost four. And I am very good at finding things I am not supposed to find.
I push the closet door. It squeaks. I freeze.
No one comes.
I slip inside. It smells like Daddy's cologne and old shoes. I push through his jackets, soft and heavy like sleeping bears. And there it is. On the top shelf. A box.
I cannot reach the top shelf. This is a problem.
I drag my step stool from the bathroom. It makes a scraping sound on the floor. I freeze again.
Still no one.
I climb. One step. Two steps. Three steps. I grab the box. It slides toward me. I almost fall, but I catch myself.
The box is silver. It has no pictures. Just a button.
I sit on my bedroom floor. My heart is beating fast. Like a drum. Like a race car. Like a drum race car.
I open the box.
Inside, the watch is shiny. It has a big blue face and a red button on the side. It looks like it belongs on a superhero. Which is exactly why I need to try it on.
I strap it to my wrist. It's too big. It slides around. But I tighten it. I push the buckle until it clicks.
The watch hums. A little buzz. Like a bee.
I look at the red button.
Daddy said emergencies only. But what counts as an emergency? I think about it. My juice box is empty. That feels like an emergency.
I press the button.
The world goes bright. White light fills my room. It tickles my skin. My pajamas disappear. Something else appears. Something blue and red and yellow.
I look down.
I am wearing a costume. It has a cape. It has boots. And on my chest, there is a big letter T.
I run to the mirror. My reflection smiles back. But I don't look like Avyan anymore.
I look like Tojo.
**Chapter 2: The First Flight**
I stand on my bed. The mattress bounces. I hold my arms out.
How do you fly?
I jump. I land. I jump again. I land again.
This is not flying. This is jumping.
I look at the watch. There is a second button. A blue one. I press it.
The watch glows. A blue light wraps around me. It lifts me up. My feet leave the bed. I float.
I am flying.
I laugh. It is the best feeling in the world. Better than ice cream. Better than cartoons. Better than both together.
I float toward the ceiling. My head bumps it. Ouch. But I don't care.
I fly out of my room. Down the hallway. The walls rush past. I am fast. So fast.
I fly into the living room. My mom is on the couch. She is reading a book. She looks up.
She screams.
Not a scary scream. A surprised scream. Like when you see a spider that is also a superhero.
"Avyan!" she says.
"I am Tojo!" I say. "Look, Mommy. I can fly."
She puts her book down. She stands up. She walks toward me with her hands out.
"Come down, sweetie. Slowly."
I do not want to come down. Flying is too much fun. I spin in the air. I do a loop. I almost hit the ceiling fan.
"Avyan, please," she says.
I fly to the kitchen. I grab a cookie from the counter. I eat it in the air. Crumbs fall everywhere. This is amazing.
But then I hear something. A noise. A crash.
It comes from outside.
**Chapter 3: The Big Problem**
I fly to the window. I look out.
The street is not normal. Cars are stopped. People are running. And in the middle of everything, there is a giant robot.
It is tall. Taller than my house. Taller than the trees. It is made of metal. It has red eyes. It is stomping on cars.
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
My mom comes up behind me. She grabs my hand.
"Avyan, we need to hide."
But I look at my watch. I look at my costume. I look at the robot.
I am Tojo. And Tojo helps people.
"I have to go," I say.
"No," she says. "You are three years old."
"Almost four," I say.
I pull my hand away. I press the blue button. I fly out the window.
The wind hits my face. It is cold. But my costume keeps me warm. I fly toward the robot.
The robot is big. Really big. Its foot is as big as my bed. Its hand is as big as my whole room.
I land on a streetlight. I look at the robot.
"Hey!" I shout. "Stop!"
The robot looks down. Its red eyes glow. It makes a sound. A deep rumble. Like thunder.
"Little child," it says. "You cannot stop me."
"I am Tojo," I say. "And I can do anything."
The robot laughs. It is not a nice laugh. It is a mean laugh. Like when a bully takes your toy.
I need a plan. But I am three years old. Almost four. Plans are hard.
I look at my watch. There is a third button. A green one. I never pressed it before.
I press it.
**Chapter 4: The Super Power**
The watch beeps. A voice comes out.
"Super Power Selector," it says. "Choose your power."
Words appear on the watch face. Little pictures. I see a fist. I see a shield. I see a lightning bolt.
I do not know what these mean.
But I see one more picture. A big squirt gun.
I press that one.
My hand glows green. Something appears in my palm. It is a giant water gun. No. Not a water gun. A bubble gun.
I point it at the robot. I pull the trigger.
Bubbles fly out. Hundreds of them. Thousands of them. They are big and shiny and rainbow-colored.
The bubbles hit the robot. They stick to its legs. They stick to its arms. They cover its eyes.
The robot cannot see. It swings its arms. It stumbles. It falls.
Boom.
The ground shakes. The robot is down. Covered in bubbles.
People cheer. They clap. They shout my name.
"Tojo! Tojo! Tojo!"
I wave. I feel proud. I feel like a real hero.
But then the bubbles pop. One by one. Pop. Pop. Pop.
The robot stands up.
It is angry now. Its eyes glow redder. Its fists clench.
"Little hero," it says. "You will pay."
**Chapter 5: The Team**
I am scared. Really scared. My hands shake. My knees wobble.
The robot takes a step toward me. The ground shakes.
I do not know what to do.
But then I hear something. A whoosh. A thump.
Someone lands next to me.
It is a girl. She is older. Maybe seven or eight. She wears a purple costume. She has a mask.
"I am Violet," she says. "I saw you from my window. You need help."
"I am Tojo," I say.
"I know," she says. "Everyone knows."
Another whoosh. Another thump. A boy lands on my other side. He is wearing green. He has a cape.
"I am Leap," he says. "I can jump really high."
"And I can turn invisible," says Violet.
"And I can make bubbles," I say.
The robot takes another step. It is almost on top of us.
"We need to work together," says Leap.
"Agreed," says Violet.
I look at my watch. I look at them. I look at the robot.
"Okay," I say. "Here is the plan."
I do not actually have a plan. But I pretend I do.
Violet turns invisible. She runs toward the robot. The robot cannot see her. She climbs up its leg.
Leap jumps. He goes high. Higher than the robot's head. He lands on its shoulder.
I fly up. I point my bubble gun. I shoot bubbles at the robot's eyes.
The robot swings. It misses. It swings again. It misses again.
Violet reappears on the robot's back. She pulls a wire. The robot sparks. It freezes.
Leap jumps off. He lands perfectly.
I fly down. I land between them.
The robot does not move. It is stuck.
We did it.
People cheer again. Louder this time. They chant our names.
"Tojo! Violet! Leap! Tojo! Violet! Leap!"
My mom runs out of the house. She grabs me. She hugs me tight.
"Never do that again," she says.
"But I saved the day," I say.
She kisses my forehead. "You are my hero," she says. "But you are also my baby."
I hug her back. I press the red button on my watch.
The costume disappears. I am Avyan again. Just a kid. Three years old. Almost four.
I look at my watch. The robot is still frozen. The people are still cheering.
And I know one thing for sure.
This is not the last adventure.
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This is a work of fiction, assisted by artificial intelligence. Any names or characters, businesses or places, events or incidents, are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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