I woke up with ragged breaths, my chest rising and falling as if my heart was about to burst. My fingers dug into my shirt, grasping at something—anything—to ground myself.
But nothing felt right.
My surroundings were unfamiliar, and worse… so was I.
Where am I?
Who am I?
One moment, I was walking toward my car after clocking out of work. The next, a pair of blinding headlights swallowed my vision—then, nothing.
An army of memories that weren't mine stormed my mind. A life I'd never lived. Faces, names, places—this world, my new self—it all came crashing in, drowning me in a flood of knowledge.
Then, just as quickly as it hit me, the pain was gone.
Like it never existed.
Nirengeki Shoda.
That was my name now.
And the world I was in?
My Hero Fucking Academia.
You've got to be joking.
I knew this guy. Some side character from Class 1-B, barely relevant outside of that one joint training arc. A blink-and-you-miss-him ahhh NPC. In a world dominated by monsters like All-for-one and Shigaraki.
Out of all the possible reincarnations...Why the hell did I get stuck with him?
Wait. Maybe I have a system?
I take a deep breath and steel myself.
"Status."
…Nothing.
Just silence.
A bead of sweat rolls down my temple.
"Status Window."
"Stats."
"System."
"Jarvis?"
...
FUCKKKKKKKKK!!!!!
No cheat ability. No overpowered skill tree. No golden spoon feeding me power.
That's fine.
That's completely… fine.
"I'm so cooked."
I let out a long, exhausted sigh as my head drops into my hands. My fingers thread through my hair, gripping tight as the full weight of my situation crashes down on me.
Transmigration? Reincarnation? None of that matters.
Because I'm stuck in a world where a god walks among men. And worse? He has every reason to think he is a god.
My thoughts spiral. My only advantage right now is my ability to know the events that will happen. I know the plot, I know the key people that will partake in it, I—
…Wait.
How far do I remember?
My mind races. The last thing I recall is the joint training arc. Exactly where I show up. After that, it's blank. That's it. That's where my knowledge ends.
A sick feeling settles in my gut.
I don't know what happens next.
Before panic can take over, I bolt toward the desk in my room. My hands move on instinct, grabbing a notebook, flipping it open, pressing pen to paper.
I started writing everything I knew.
Every arc. Every event. Every character.
Every. Detail. I. Can. Remember.
As I wrote, my thoughts slowly started to settle. I needed to recall everything—every crucial detail about my life now.
First off, I'm already a U.A. student.
That means the wheels of the story are already turning. Thankfully, the school year hasn't started. It's currently mid-March, so I have a month or so till school begins.
Second… my Quirk.
Twin Impact.
I strike a target once, and then—at will—I can make the point of contact experience a second, far stronger impact. A delayed, amplified strike.
I set the pencil down, staring at the scattered pages of messy, hastily written notes.
Twin Impact isn't bad. In fact…
It's good.
If anything, I can work with this. No. I can do more than just work with this.
Now, last but not least, The Question: Do I stay at U.A.?
If I want to avoid all the problems this world has to offer, the obvious answer is simple—drop out. Transfer schools. Keep my head down and stay out of trouble.
…But will that really help?
What about telling my parents to leave the country? Yeah, because "villains are going to start attacking my school" sounds really fucking believable. Even if I wait for an actual attack, transferring schools won't stop the chaos. This world isn't safe.
No matter what, the problem remains:
I don't know how the story ends. If anything, I don't know what happens after the joint-training arc.
I know for a fact that whatever happens will most likely occur all over Japan.
I remember rumors from my past life. Half-truths. Theories. But one spoiler stood out.
Midnight dies.
I lean back in my chair, exhaling through my nose.
I may not be some hero with a golden heart. But I refuse to let a piece of ass that fine leave this world.
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"So… mind explaining why you were up so early?" my father asked, raising an eyebrow as he sipped his coffee.
The moment I looked at him, I had to do a double-take.
Seriously—this man looked exactly like me. Just older. A carbon copy with some mileage. It was actually insane.
My mother sat beside him, eating quietly, though the curiosity in her eyes made it clear she was also interested in my answer. She had this soft, gentle presence about her—the kind that made it easy to forget how sharp she could be when she wanted.
And then there was my little sister, sitting to my right, poking at her food with a bored expression. She was in her second year of middle school, meaning she was in that special phase where everything was embarrassing or annoying.
"I had a bad dream," I answered casually before turning the tables. "The real question is—why were you awake? You don't have work today, so shouldn't you be sleeping? You're not exactly an early bird."
I watched as my father, taken aback, stiffened slightly. A light blush crawled up his face, and he cleared his throat. My sister, ever perceptive, caught the shift between him and my mother almost immediately.
And that's when it clicked.
"Oh my god."
I barely got the words out before my sister shot up from her seat, face twisted in pure horror.
"OH MY GOD! You guys are disgusting!! I'm going to my room—don't talk to me!" she shrieked, panic in her voice as she practically sprinted out of the kitchen.
Meanwhile, I just sat there, mouth slightly open, still processing.
Are we deadass right now?
"How the hell are you guys this bad at hiding the birds and the bees?" I deadpanned, still reeling from the horror that was now permanently burned into my brain.
My dad coughed into his coffee, avoiding my gaze. "Didn't expect you to ask that question…" he muttered, taking another sip like that would somehow wash away the awkwardness.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "So we just don't know how to hide secrets now? Is that it?"
He said nothing. My mom stifled a laugh. My sister had already fled for her life.
Yeah. I was done.
Shoving my chair back, I stood up and turned to leave.
"What plans do you have today, honey?" my mom asked as she started collecting the plates from the table, completely unfazed.
A small grin tugged at my lips.
"Gonna start working out before U.A—so I'm heading out for a run."
And with that, I made my grand escape.
As I stepped outside, the crisp morning air greeted me with a gentle breeze. Spring was catching up to Japan, bringing with it the scent of fresh earth and blooming life.
I started running, my feet pounding against the pavement in a steady rhythm. But as my body moved, my mind wandered.
Had I taken over Shoda's body? Or had I simply recalled memories from a past life?
I didn't have an answer. Maybe it didn't matter. Maybe it was better that way. Because either way, I had a family now.
Growing up in the orphanage system, I never knew what that felt like. The warmth of a home. A father's bad jokes. A mother's quiet patience. A little sister's endless complaints. It was all new. And yet… I already knew one thing for sure.
I wasn't going to lose it.
I clenched my fists, my strides pushing harder against the ground.
I needed to get stronger. Not just for myself—but for them.
I was Nirengeki Shoda. I was alive.
Sweat trickled down my temple as I focused on my next step. My quirk, Twin Impact, was good—with the correct tools and training, I can take it to the next level. It was best suited for long-range combat, but that didn't mean I couldn't refine it for close-quarters fighting.
I just needed options. Every advantage in the book.
As I ran, I slowed to a stop near a park, my brain running scenarios, analyzing possible ways to improve.
That's when I saw it.
An archery event.
A bow.
A bow is precise. Controlled. Deadly in the right hands.
With a bow, I could dictate the flow of battle. I could control the arrows with my quirk.
Hawkeye. Green Arrow. Heroes I once admired in my past life—not because they had overwhelming strength, but because they were efficient. Calculated. Unstoppable despite their lack of superpowers.
This was perfect.
And it didn't have to stop there. Shurikens. Throwing knives. Long-range projectiles I could enhance with Twin Impact.
I see it now. A future where I wasn't just some side character. Maybe being myself was just a blessing in disguise all along.
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"Mom, I think onii-chan here has a girlfriend."
Sora side-eyes me with a smug grin as she casually eats her dinner.
My chopsticks freeze mid-air. Where the hell did that come from?
"Shoda, you have a girlfriend?" Mom perked up, eyes shining with interest.
"I don't! I have no idea where Sora is getting this from," I say, glaring at the little traitor.
"Oh yeah?" She smirks, setting the trap. "Then explain why you've been sneaking out late at night."
The entire room goes silent.
"SHODA! YOU'VE BEEN SNEAKING OUT?!" Dad's voice booms through the house as he drops his chopsticks.
"GODDAMMIT, SORA!!" I lunge at her, but the little brat dodges, laughing as she sprints around the table.
"HAHAHAHA—Oh, you are so screwed! You're getting grounded for months," she taunts me as she runs around like a lizard.
I narrow my eyes. Two can play this game.
"Oh yeah?" I stop chasing and fold my arms. "Then why don't I tell Mom and Dad where you actually go when you say you're sleeping over at your friend's house?"
Her smirk vanishes. "Wait...don't!"
I grin wickedly.
"SHE'S BEEN GOING TO PARTIES EVERYONE!"
Dad's head whips toward her.
"WHAT?!"
Her face morphs from despair to pure rage.
"YOU PIECE OF SHIT!"
She lunges at me, yanking my hair like a rabid raccoon.
"THAT'S WHAT HAPPENS TO SNITCHES!" she yells in fury as she pulls harder and harder.
I pinch her arm in retaliation. "AND THAT'S WHAT HAPPENS TO PARTY RATS!"
Chaos. Utter chaos.
Then—Mom stands up.
The room goes dead silent.
Her gaze is cold, unforgiving—borderline demonic. I swear, for a second, I saw the flicker of a final boss's aura.
"If you two don't sit on that couch—NOW—and explain yourselves," she says, voice ice-cold, "you're both getting grounded. And this time? It's not just your phones."
Sora and I freeze.
You gotta be fucking kidding me.
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So, ever since that fateful day I decided to become Hawkeye 2.0, I've been sneaking out to train with my bow and arrow, along with the shurikens my parents bought. And no, it wasn't hard to convince my parents to buy me those weapons. It was for my career, after all. Literally.
But, on one of these "training nights," I decided to treat myself and stopped by a gas station for a snack. What I didn't expect was to find a group of teens hanging out outside after coming from a party. You might ask: How did I know they were coming from a party?
Well, they had body paint all over them that spelled out "PARTY!!" in huge letters. You know, subtle.
And, to my absolute horror, standing in the middle of them was none other than my sister. It was quite a horrific night.
What's worse is that this was yesterday. And she already snitched.
"Shoda, from now on, you cannot sneak out anymore. If you want to train, you must let us know. The latest you can be out is 1:00 AM, understood?" My mom orders, her tone firm. I nod, not even bothering to argue.
"And you, Sora..." she turns to my sister, her voice a little colder, "From now on, every time you go to your 'friend's house,' you'll have to share your location every hour. And if you're going to a party, you'll need to list every single person who'll be there. Understood?"
Sora glances at me, still glaring with that kind of sibling intensity that I couldn't care less about right now. The fucking audacity of this girl! She started this whole mess and wants to blame me. Accountability final boss over here.
Sora begrudgingly nods, but her eyes shoot daggers at me, clearly annoyed.
"Alright, well that's it for now. I'm going to bed, and you too, Sora." My mom concludes the whole thing. But then, to my surprise, she pauses and smiles at me.
"Oh, Shoda, your father wants to talk to you." She adds before walking off. "Goodnight, honey."
She kisses my forehead like everything's fine, and then my sister, still simmering with that attitude, shoots me one last glare. Just before she goes upstairs, she calls out a sweet, sarcastic "Goodnight," all while sticking her tongue out.
I smirked to myself, already plotting my revenge on Sora. She'll regret messing with me.
"Is it safe to come out now?" My dad emerges from the kitchen, a beer in hand and a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Yeah, the battle's over. I'm sure you know who the victor was." I joke, and he chuckles, sitting down beside me. The TV in front of us buzzes with the usual news about heroes and villains, but I barely register it.
For a few minutes, it's just the two of us sitting in comfortable silence, the weight of our separate thoughts filling the space. My mind, though, can't stop questioning everything.
What the hell is going on here?
"You know, Shoda, when I was your age, I wanted to be a hero too," Dad begins, his tone shifting to something nostalgic. "But, as you can see, I didn't exactly get there."
His voice takes on a more neutral, fatherly tone as he continues. "After high school, I started working. It wasn't until my mid-twenties that I met your mom. At first, we didn't plan on having kids, but then... well, then you came."
He falls silent for a moment, lost in his own thoughts. Then he looks at me, and his expression softens. The familiar twinkle in his eyes shifts from casual to deeply fond.
"You were the spitting image of me. And as you grew, I saw more and more of myself in you. But you were different. You had this... stronger resolve, something I didn't have. And now here you are, about to attend the best high school in Japan."
His voice thickens, and I can see the emotion building in him. "Shoda, I just want you to know… I'm incredibly proud of you, son."
My throat tightens, and before I can say anything, a tear drops onto my hand. I glance down in surprise to find my cheek wet as well.
Grabbing my head, Dad ruffles my hair affectionately. The touch is warm, familiar. "Be careful out there. There are some evil fuckers in this world, so be sure to stay strong, okay?"
His voice is steady, but there's a weight behind it, a quiet fear only a father can have. For a moment, I feel my throat tighten. My voice cracks when I speak, and for a split second, I feel like I'm a kid again, vulnerable and uncertain. But then, I steady myself, forcing the emotion down, refusing to show weakness.
"You got it, Dad." My words are stronger than I feel, but I let them land as though I believe them, like I have everything figured out. The truth is, I don't know what the future holds and he was right, there was indeed some evil fuckers out there, but I'll be damned if I let him down.
We sit there in silence, the hum of the TV filling the room, but my thoughts race. My dad's words, his pride, are heavier than any physical weight I've ever known. They settle deep in my chest, filling me with a strange combination of gratitude and pressure. I've spent my life wanting to prove myself, but now, it feels like I'm standing on the edge of something bigger. I'm not just a kid anymore. I'm not in my "Old" world anymore. And I'm not just some random person living in a world full of heroes and villains. I'm a son. A sibling.
And that means something.
In the most ordinary of houses, in the most ordinary of lives, here I am. Sitting across from the man who raised me. In a world where every day could be my last, where power is everything, my father—this simple, steady man—makes me feel like the main character of my own story.
My story.
I've spent so much time thinking about the dangers out there—the threats that could take everything from me, from my family. But at this moment, surrounded by the comfort of this home, I realize something. I can't just survive. I can't just go through the motions. I have to live. I have to make this life mine, not just for me, but for the people who believe in me.
And the weight of it all, it doesn't crush me. It lifted me.
"Dad..." I murmur, my voice finally steady. He looks at me with those proud eyes, but I know he's already said what he needed to say. He trusts me.
But I have to earn it. And I will.
In this world of chaos, of heroes and villains, I won't just survive. I'll carve my own path. I'll fight, not for a title or a legacy, but for the people who love me. For the family that's given me everything.
And most importantly, for myself.