Chapter Text
The noun isekai or 異世界 translates to “different world”. A popular genre in fiction wherein a protagonist is suddenly transported to, reincarnated in, or trapped within another world with a goal or quest they must achieve.
Now this is a bit embarrassing to admit, but it takes you a long time to figure out that you’ve been isekai’d and reborn, or, if you’re using the proper umbrella term, reincarnated. In fact, it takes exactly one year from your birth to realise this. Though, in hindsight, it does explain a few things. Like how you’re somehow sentient whilst others your age clearly aren’t as conscious as yourself, or like how you’ve barely cried as a newborn. You suppose that should’ve been your first clue.
…You find the concept of reincarnation kinda disturbing. Actually, that’s putting it lightly. It’s weird and horrific the more you think about it.
I mean, let’s break it down: You died.
Died and then came back to life as someone else’s child. And what about the life you had before? What type of life did you live? You know for certain there was one. Surely!
The details are maddeningly fuzzy, but you’re certain you had family and friends. Memories, hobbies, a favourite food and favourite songs, an entire life! An entire life which feels unbelievably important to you. You try to remember anything, spending some time just squeezing your eyes shut, praying for something, anything, to surface.
But there's nothing. Just emptiness. Cold and bitter, leaving nothing but a helpless ache in your chest. The memories slip through you, and the harder you try to remember, the sharper the drilling pangs in your head feel.
Your vision even begins to blur, and then…
…It’s then you realise that for the first time in your life, you’re crying. Tears prickle at your eyes: Sticky and burning with emotions you can’t quite place. They spill down your cheeks in waves and fall quicker than the newly bloomed cherry blossoms outside did. Your new parents are quick to console you, muttering soft spoken words of comfort in a desperate plea to get you to stop. They’ve never heard you cry before, let alone wail in distress like you are right now.
The concept is foreign to them, just as this life suddenly feels so foreign to you.
Despite the revelation of reincarnation, it takes you time to come to terms with it. Most days, you find yourself thinking about your old life, silently cursing at whatever divine force dropped you here. Each time you look at your parents, a sting of guilt worms through you because despite what you believed for the last year, they aren’t your parents. They can’t be. Sometimes, you wonder if you accidentally stole someone’s body and took over their life. If so, could you give it back? Or were you… you? Was this some type of mercy, a second chance at life after whatever happened in your first?
Actually, was this even your first life? What if this was your tenth… or eleventh… or even your thirtieth?
…Ah. You’re getting sidetracked again.
On other days, you wonder why you were reincarnated in the first place. What if you were actually crazy and made this all up? What if you’ve somehow convinced yourself you’re in some fantasy? Did other toddlers think like this? …No, probably not
You aren’t a protagonist…right? God, you hope not. But, if you aren’t the protagonist, then why were you reincarnated? Too bad your situation is too bizarre and far too hysterical sounding to even ask about (not that you can even form sentences at your age anyways). Ugh. Seriously, why are you here? Not that you’re complaining exactly, but you’d at least like to know what your old life was like. Imagine you were an astronaut… wait no, the President! Or even a famous celebrity… or a member of roya--
"--(Y/N)-chan? (Y/N)-chan are you listening?" A gentle tap lands on your forehead and your thoughts scatter away instantly. "Sweetheart?" You blink and look up to your mother kneeling in front of you, her brows knitted together. A hand rests on your shoulder whilst the other ruffles your hair.
"There you are," She says with a relieved smile. "I thought you’d floated off somewhere again." Again. You suppose she isn’t wrong. Ever since you remembered and learnt of your situation, you’ve had a bad habit of disappearing into your head. Thinking and thinking for days on end, dwelling on things you figured best to leave behind yet you thought about anyway.
Funnily enough, all this thinking caused you to forget about time. Your thoughts went round and round, just as a clock goes round and round. Weeks became months, months slipped into years, and now you’re four years old with a growing body.
School came naturally to you along with most things. There’s always been that natural sense of knowing how to do certain things. It’s unsettling but practical. Helpful in letting you sail past kindergarten without having to put genuine thought into it. Instead you preferred to think, asking yourself the same impossible question.
Why?
"Sweetheart?" Your mothers voice breaks through your thoughts for the second time.
"…Hm?"
"You keep making that face." She lets out a small laugh, tinted slightly by tired affection.
"What face?" You blink, scrunching your face together.
"Ah, nevermind that." She chuckles, smoothing down your hair. "C’mon we’re going on a little trip." Your mother takes your hand and begins to guide you, walking through your house until catching up to your father.
"There’s our little astronaut!" He says with amusement. Right…astronaut. Your father has grown to calling you that because of your tendency to ‘space out’. A dad pun of sorts. "Alright, ready to go?"
Wait, what? Go? Go where? Your mind scrambles to catch up with what your parents had said. Now that you’re really looking, you see that your father is waiting by the front door, keys dangling from his fingers as he slips on his shoes.
"Come on." Your father instructs whilst opening the front door, holding it wide as a cool breeze drifts inside. You follow your parents towards the car, your mother opening the back door and helping you climb inside.
"Uh," You start, catching your parents attention. "…Where are we going?" You ask, watching as they share a glance between each other. Suddenly, your mother laughs softly.
"Our little dreamer really wasn’t listening." She hums, the comment causes your face to flush. "We’re heading to the hospital." She says, reaching over and gently clicking your seatbelt into place.
The hospital, right… you do vaguely remember that being mentioned sometime this morning. Or was it yesterday? Honestly, you couldn't tell. You had a glaringly obvious habit of sinking into your own mind whenever you were bored. Which was far too often (four years if we’re being honest).
The rest of the journey was uneventful, you listen to your parents discussions before, inevitably, slipping back inside your own head.
Before, you disliked the idea of accepting these people as your parents. But now you realise that you've already subconsciously accepted them despite your initial thoughts. They've truly been loving and amazing parents and you wouldn't trade them for anything.
By the time the car slows to a stop, you already feel tired. One of the curses of being trapped inside a child’s body. Your father walks a few steps ahead of you as your mother takes your hand. The doors open automatically and you’re graced by the scent of disinfectant.
Luckily, it isn’t too busy today. Only a couple of patients and other parents sat beside children. Your father approaches the receptionist with a smile. "Good morning." He says, "We’re here for our daughter’s quirk check-up."
…
Wait…what? Your feet stop moving. Quirk. The single word slams into your thoughts like a bullet train into your body. No… Your breathing catches in your throat, coarse and rough. Surely not…
"The appointment should be under the name of…" The rest of the words turn into eerie static around you. Once again, you’re spacing out, but this time it's different. Still the same emotions, but it's different in a way.
No.
No, no, no.
Your eyes slowly drift around the waiting room, for real this time. To your left, you see a boy lazily creating bubbles whilst his mother watches him. Across from that child is another who is producing purple sparks from the tips of her fingers before her father gently urges her to stop using her quirk.
Your stomach drops… there’s no way. You’ve spent the last four years questioning your situation, and somehow completely failed to notice you’d been reincarnated into My Hero Academia of all places, even though that conclusion was right in your face this entire time!
Oh.
"Oh. Crap." You mutter.
"Huh? Did you say something, little astronaut?" Your father asks, turning towards you with concern.
Yep. This explains a lot actually.
Your mother gives your hand a gentle tug. "Sweetheart?" You shake your head, attempting to wave the thoughts away.
"…Coming." You manage to breathe out as you follow on autopilot.
Suddenly, everything feels strangely muffled, as though you’re trapped underwater in a situation where it’s impossible to break the surface.
My Hero Academia, of all places. The (presumably) same My Hero Academia you read, watched, lived and breathed (maybe literally living and breathing now) in your previous life. Huh. You remember that. Okay, let’s be rational, other worlds surely use the term 'Quirk', right? It wouldn’t just be My Hero Academia.
…
Who are you kidding, there’s an All Might poster on the wall to your left promoting a dental brand!
So. You’re living in a world where 20% of the world's population is Quirkless, whilst the rest of the population possess superhuman abilities.
…Well. Assuming the story follows the way you remember. Which could be a possibility, but it also couldn't be. You remember the story, weirdly enough. Out of everything from your past lives memories, these ones come clearest. Though, the more you try to focus on the details, the more they frustratingly blur together like always.
Great. Your memory’s failing you again, the difference this time is that your life may depend on it. That and everyone else’s lives.
"This way." A nurse beside your family tells you, gesturing to an office room. "Dr. Sakamoto is ready to see you now." You barely register what your parents chat about with the nurse.
If this really is MHA, what year is it? All Might is clearly a famous pro already, so it's likely he's ready the Number 1 hero, and hell, at least he’s been born. Oh, wait…how old am I compared to the main cast? You wince. You’ve been too busy facing internalised existential crises for the past couple years to pay attention to the simple things.
Gods. So much for being the smartest in the class. Great going you!
You enter the doctors office, on the left side of the room, the wall is covered in colorful posters and those extremely detailed anatomy drawings you’d always see in hospitals. There’s a shelf in the corner, overflowing with toys. Behind a desk sits a middle-aged doctor with eyes hidden behind rectangular glasses.
For a fraction of a second, the image of a portly, bald old man with a bushy mustache flashes through your mind. A sickening feeling twists in your gut, but you push that down, instead opting to return the greeting the doctor just offered.
Doctor Sakamoto smiles, then gestures at the small chair beside the examination bed in the center of the room. You follow the silent request as the doctor skims through your file. "So… this is your first quirk assessment?" You nod slowly. "That’s perfectly fine! Most quirks manifest by the age of four, though some can appear a little earlier or later." He explains, though you do already, vaguely, know that.
You hadn’t even had the time to consider quirks let alone your own quirk after your major revelation.
"Since you haven't yet manifested a quirk, have you noticed anything unusual at all?" He asks you, but ends up looking up to your parents. They both exchange a glance as your father scratches the back of his neck.
"No, not really." Your father replies and the doctor raises a brow.
"Nothing at all?" He asks again, and your mother glances between you, your father and the doctor.
"Well…" She begins, "She doesn’t cry much." Your mother offers.
"She’s always thinking," your father adds with a small laugh. "We have to call her name two or three times before she notices us." Oh man. All that overthinking is going to cost you.
The doctor hums as he jots down something you can’t see.
"Alright." He says, placing the clipboard aside. "Well then, I’d like to take a scan of your foot first." He reaches for a small scanner on the counter as your eyes lift to watch him. Of course! The toe joint. If you had one, then that would indicate you're Quirkless. You feel slightly guilty, but you'd hate to be Quirkless in this society. Perhaps there is a chance that you could possess the extra toe joint whilst having a quirk, but that sounds like it would be an extremely rare case.
The main point is, though you haven't really thought things through just yet, you've come to the conclusion that the reason you were reincarnated is simple: To make a difference. Yes, it sounds slightly corny, but with your knowledge there's no way you can idly sit by whilst having the ability to at least minimalise the suffering the characters face. You will help, regardless of whether you're older or younger than the 1-A students.
I've already got a hero complex, don't I? You groan.
You'll need a useful quirk, something versatile and strong. Your ability to help depends on it. If your quirk wasn't something powerful, you could get creative with it or plea a secondary quirk… something along the lines of prophecies. However, that would be both complicated and it would raise suspicions. You're pretty sure having two quirks is almost unheard of, unless its a case similar to Shoto Todoroki with his Half-Cold Half-Hot. As for the former, you're not sure if you're crafty enough for that. Quirks are hereditary… you've never seen your parents use a quirk, but you have been out of it for the last couple years.
Are your parents Quirkless? If quirks are hereditary, is quirklessness also hereditary? Or is it simply a bad-luck phenomena? But, you find it unlikely if both of your parents are Quirkless. Despite your lack of awareness, you did realise that they've got a steady income, considering the house you live in and all the luxuries it has. It's tragic to think, but knowing how quirkless people were treated, you doubt they'd have a high income like your parents do. So what are their quirks?
Your eyes instinctively look to your parents, its just your luck they're talking about their own quirks with the doctor after your foot scan.
Your mother smiles sheepishly, "My quirk is called Blueprint. I can create small holograms." She explains, raising a hand as a faint blue light gathers in her palm. It transforms into thin lines and eventually, the form of a miniature house is made. It rotates in her palm slowly. "They're only holograms, but they've come in handy for my line of work."
The doctor chuckles whilst writing something on his clipboard. "An architect?" He asks, and your mother nods. The hologram dissolves as she closes her palm and you can only stare in awe. That was hella cool. "…And your quirk?" The doctor says, turning to your father.
"It's called reconfiguration… it may be easier if I demonstrate it." Your father reaches into his pocket, taking out an old pen and placing it onto the desk. He raises his hand and you all watch as the pen twists apart neatly. The casing, spring and ink cartridge all separate, and then reconstruct into a new arrangement. A second or two later, the pen is now replaced with a tiny flashlight. You reach for the new object and press the small switch on the side. Unsurprisingly, a bright beam shines from across the examination room. You can't help but marvel at the device and your father grins triumphantly.
"A useful quirk." The doctor remarks, and you can't help but agree. "Now then…" He says, picking up the scanner beside him, glancing at the results of your foot scan. The next couple seconds feel like an eternity and you can slowly feel your stomach dropping and your heart beating faster and faster. The doctor adjusts his glasses before looking back at his audience.
…Are you…?
"Right," he says with a reassuring smile. "Your daughter doesn't possess the extra toe joint associated with quirklessness." Your shoulders immediately sag. "She has a Quirk factor." Thank goodness. "That said it does appear to be dormant."
"Dormant?" You echo, and the doctor only nods.
"It is uncommon, but not unheard of. Sometimes, a quirk can develop slower than what's considered normal. You can get quirks that already begin to show from birth, or ones that remain inactive until something causes it to trigger. That depends entirely on the quirk, but she's still only four so she has more than enough time to active it." The doctor folds his hands together and offers a smile, "I wouldn't be overly concerned. Just keep going about as normal and it will naturally arise in time."
The remainder of the hospital trip wraps up quickly. You say your thanks and get back into the car for a nice, peaceful ride home. Your parents chat amongst themselves again while you stare absentmindedly out the window.
You think back to what the doctor said, and you find it slightly frustrating. Though, it is better than being quirkless. Your fingers tap lazily against the car door. What if it takes years to manifest? It was a concept you don't remember from the original show, but maybe it was brought up somewhere.
You should write down al the details you remember later. Though you're worried your handwriting may be too intelligible because you're four years old and your hands aren't the sturdiest.
"Little astronaut?" Your fathers words knock you out of your thoughts, you blink towards your parents. "How about we stop somewhere before heading home?" He suggests.
Your mother turns slightly, "The playground's on the way" She chimes, and you brighten at the suggestion. You were technically a toddler after all.
"Yes! Let's go!" You grin, earning mirroring smiles from both of your parents.
You arrive at the playground and its surprisingly busy. Your parents went to go mingle with the other parents there, whilst you decided you wanted to check out the sandbox. Your eyes watch the other children, this time actually recognising all their different appearances and beating yourself up on how you missed something so obvious.
I mean come on, how did you miss someone with orange skin, and that person over there even has an elephant trunk for a nose. Just as you're getting swept up into your thought…
Thunk!
You stumble backwards as something collides into you.
"Ah! I'm so so sorry!" A voice squeaks at you and you only blink. There's….nobody there? Did a dismembered voice just talk to you? Or are you going insane? Ohhh dear, how were you meant to save your favourite characters if you were hysterical?
"Are you okay? Oh man, I'm so sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going!" A pair of white gloves suddenly appears in front of you, waving frantically. Wait a minute-- Floating gloves? Floating clothes? …No way.
"I-I'm alright," You manage, waving a hand in dismissal. The invisible girl lets out an audible sigh.
"Thank goodness!" She giggles, "I thought I KO'D you there!" You awkwardly smile back, though its difficult to know where exactly to stare. "Um… right! I'm Toru!" You blink, as her loved hand extends towards you. The name sparking recognition immediately.
You carefully shake her hand, "I'm (Y/N)" You beam, though its hard to match the energy of the girl in front of you.
"It's nice to meet you! (Y/N)-chan!" Toru exclaims and suddenly everything feels surreal again. Only an hour or two ago did you realise you were inside My Hero Academia, but now you've actually met one of the characters in it. Sure, you saw All Mights poster and other hero advertisements… but this was completely different! "How old are you?" She asks, gloved hands bouncing up and down enthusiastically.
"I'm--" Wait how old were you? Four? "Four."
"No way!!" She gasps in excitement, "Me too! We should play together!" Toru declares, already latching onto your hand and leading you elsewhere. "I know a game!"
"Agh! Toru-chan" You squeak but before you know it, you're dragged towards the climbing frame to play heroes vs villains with another group of kids.
You cant help but smile as you continue to stare at the invisible girl. Toru Hagakure. A member of the troublesome class 1-A and soon-to-be aspiring hero.
Suddenly, you feel something weigh on your shoulders. A burden, laden and heavy. You know the future. You know the pain these children and the people of this world will go through. You have the power to change something, and you will do just that. You refuse to be a bystander and watch the destruction through a screen.
…
The thought is slightly terrifying. But that doesn't crack your resolve. You'll grow stronger and learn.
And, when the day finally comes.
You'll be ready.