My Harem System In My Hero Academia

The day came way too early for Yami's liking. It had been roughly two weeks since he had been reincarnated as a baby in this new world. 

The sun was doing its best to annoy the shit out of him, slicing through the paper doors like it was auditioning to be his personal alarm clock. 

He couldn't even throw an arm over his face to block it because, you know, baby arms were about as useful as wet noodles. 

Angela—his new mom, the walking wet dream of a woman who fed him from those ridiculous tits—was already up, humming some happy little tune like life wasn't a total dumpster fire, and the sun wasn't burning his eyes like an atomic bomb... well not that bad but still.

Yami spent most of the day pretending to nap so he could think. Life was already weird, and he needed to figure out where he stood. 

Thanks to GhostGirlFucker's or whatever the snail's name was, he remembered everything about My Hero Academia... Mostly. 

This world was as messed up as his old one, just with more people running around pretending to be superheroes.

So, here's the deal: quirks were everything. You were golden and set up for life if you had a badass power. If you didn't, society would treat you depending on how good or bad it was, and if you didn't have any? Society would toss you aside like expired milk. 

It wasn't fair, but fair didn't exist in this world. Heroes were the big stars here—celebrities who beat up villains for cash and clout. And villains? They were the people who said, "Screw your hero society," and went off the rails. 

But honestly? Yami didn't think either side was all that great. Heroes acted like they were God's gift to humanity, but most of them were just in it for the fame.

As for him? He was reborn into this shitshow with the name Yami Iwatani. His family situation? Holy shit, it was a trainwreck. 

His mom, Angela Iwatani, was a retired hero from some Western country. She was the kind of woman you'd see on a magazine cover or in your wet dreams. Long blonde hair, big green eyes, and tits so massive they could probably be classified as a safety hazard. 

Her quirk, "Angelical", lets her manifest and absorb light or something. She'd been a big deal back in the day before moving to Japan and marrying his dad.

And what a winner his dad was. Akio Iwatani was the biggest asshole Yami had ever met, and that included both of his lives. 

The guy was a total dick—cold, mean, and a cheating piece of shit. He married Angela for appearances, and he only seemed to care about making sure his image stayed squeaky clean.

Angela? She was too damn good for this world. She didn't just put up with his bullshit; she was the perfect wife. 

She cooked like a pro, cleaned like it was a sport, and doted on Yami like he was the best thing to ever happen to her. 

But Akio? He treated all of that like it was worthless. The dude had the perfect wife, and what did he do? Screamed at her for dumb shit like tea being too cold or rice being slightly overcooked. 

Yami couldn't wrap his head around how someone could be so ungrateful.

And the cheating? Holy crap, the cheating. Akio didn't even try to hide it. He'd bring girls home—barely legal, usually—and fuck them right in their bedroom. Angela just... let it happen. 

She didn't cheat back, didn't fight him on it. She just kept being loyal, smiling, and doing her thing like it didn't bother her.

That pissed Yami off the most. Not the cheating itself—he didn't give a shit about that. What burned him was how Akio treated Angela like dirt, like all her hard work and loyalty were nothing. 

She bent over backward to make that house a home, and he spat on it.

Yami wanted to hate her for staying with Akio, for not fighting back, but he couldn't. She wasn't weak; she was just... built differently. 

She'd made her choice, and she stuck by it for some reason. Maybe it was because of Yami. Maybe she thought she owed it to him to keep the family together, no matter how much of a shitshow it was. 

He didn't know. But he knew one thing: he fucking hated Akio.

The guy wasn't just a bad husband; he was a garbage human being. The kind of person who didn't deserve the air he breathed. 

Yami didn't know what Angela saw in him, but whatever it was, it sure wasn't there anymore.

As the day dragged on, Angela went about her business, feeding Yami, cleaning the house, and humming like everything was fine. Yami just stewed in his tiny baby body, thinking about all the ways he wanted to take Akio down. 

He didn't care what it took—he was going to make the bastard pay for every shitty thing he'd done to Angela.

But first, he needed to figure out his quirk. GhostGirlFucker had said it'd match his energy, whatever the hell that meant. 

Knowing his luck, it was probably something stupid like turning water into soda or making people sneeze on command. But whatever it was, he was going to use it. He wasn't just going to survive in this world; he was going to run a train on it.

Angela picked him up for another feeding, her voice soft and sweet as she whispered, "My little Yami, you're going to be so strong. I can feel it."

He looked up at her face, at the tired smile she always wore, and felt his tiny baby heart twist. 

She didn't deserve this. She deserved someone who appreciated her, someone who treated her like the woman she was. And Yami? He was going to make sure she got that life.

As night fell, Yami stared at the ceiling in his tiny futon. He didn't have much, but he had enough. 

A second chance, a quirk waiting to be unlocked, and a burning hatred for the piece of shit he called a father. And Yami wouldn't waste that fire.

Time skipped ahead, and four years passed in what felt like a blur for Yami. 

His life revolved around Angela and their little house, which always felt just a bit too quiet. He never went to preschool—Angela decided to homeschool him instead, though even "homeschool" was a stretch.

She tried her best to teach him the basics, but she clearly didn't have much of a plan.

Angela didn't have many friends, either. She'd cut herself off from most of the world, pouring all her love and attention into Yami, while her interactions with Akio became shorter and colder by the day. 

On Yami's fourth birthday, it was just the two of them. Angela baked a small cake—vanilla with a simple layer of frosting—and lit a single candle on top.

"Make a wish, my handsome boy," Angela said, holding the cake steady as she smiled down at him.

Yami stared at the candle for a moment. He didn't really believe in wishes, and the last time something akin to a wish happened a Snail threw him into another world. 

If they worked, Angela wouldn't still be stuck with that bastard Akio, and his life wouldn't be so... muted. 

Still, he played along, taking a breath before blowing out the tiny flame. Angela clapped softly, her expression glowing with pride as if he'd just done something miraculous.

After cake and a quiet evening, Angela tucked him into bed, humming a soft tune as she kissed his forehead. "Goodnight, my Yami. Sweet dreams."

He pretended to fall asleep, waiting until her footsteps faded down the hall before slipping out of bed. 

Four years was a long time to stew in anger, and he didn't waste any of it. Every night after Angela went to bed, he'd secretly train his small, chubby body. 

Push-ups, squats, sit-ups—whatever his tiny body could handle. He didn't have much to work with, but he was determined to make something of himself.

He'd even raided Akio's private library a few times, sneaking in to skim through books on history, quirks, and anything else that interested him. He couldn't read Japanese yet, but he tried to learn. 

But after one trip too many, Akio caught Yami crawling out of his library and flew into a rage, accusing Angela of meddling in his "personal space." The memory of Angela's tear-streaked face after that fight still burned in Yami's mind. He never went back to the library after that.

Tonight, he pushed himself harder than usual. His tiny muscles screamed in protest as he gritted his teeth through his final push-up, the floorboards creaking beneath his weight. 

Sweat dripped from his forehead, soaking the collar of his pajamas. He collapsed onto his back, panting and staring at the ceiling.

Then, it happened. A soft chime echoed in his mind, followed by a glowing screen that appeared before his eyes, suspended in midair. His breath caught as he squinted at the words.

[System Notification: Initialization Complete.]

[Welcome, Yami. Your Harem System has now been activated.]

He blinked, momentarily stunned, before a wicked grin spread across his face. "Finally".

[Congrats, Yami. You've finally activated your Harem System. Time to stop being a useless sack of shit and start making something of yourself.]

"Wow, fuck you too," Yami muttered under his breath, glaring at the screen. But he couldn't lie—he was hyped

[Booting up Status...]

==Harem System 1.1.01==

Name: Yami Iwatani

Quirk: Locked (Be patient, dumbass.)

Strength: E+ (Congrats, you're slightly better than useless.)

Durability: E+ (You might survive a stiff breeze now.)

Agility: E+ (Still slower than a grandma, but we'll get there.)

Stamina: D+ (You have the stamina of an adult man in the body of a toddler; congrats?)

Intelligence: C (At least your brain doesn't match your baby face.)

Luck: B+ (You've got better odds than most.)

Skill: F+ (Barely functional, but progress is progress.)

Harem: None

====

The system's tone shifted into full-on lecture mode, but it still couldn't hide its smugness.

[Let me break this down for your tiny toddler brain. Stats go from F- to SSS. The average adult human chills at D, but since you've been working your baby ass off since day one, your stats aren't a total embarrassment.]

[E+ puts you above the average drooling toddler, but don't get cocky. Any full-grown high school kid could beat your ass.]

Yami smirked, his tiny fingers twitching as he stared at the screen. "So, I'm basically a jacked four-year-old with a big brain and good luck? Got it."

The system flickered like it was rolling its nonexistent eyes.

[Sure, let's go with that.]

Yami nodded, his grin widening. He wasn't mad about this setup. It wasn't amazing, but it was a solid start. 

The E+ stats directly resulted from his secret training every night, and it felt good to see that effort paying off, even if it was baby steps—literally.

He glared at the glowing panel, determination sparking in his golden eyes. "E+ won't cut it for long. I'm not stopping until I blow past SSS."

The system let out a chime that sounded suspiciously like laughter.

[Bold words for someone who just stopped shitting in their pants. Let's see if you can back it up.]

[Cooking Rice]