Thorny Path of a Pro-Hero

So.

Firstly, this is definitely the world of "Academia."

Quirks, professional heroes, villains. All Might (I still can’t believe I didn’t recognize him on posters and in books right away). The best school in the world, U.A. High School.

Secondly, I actually live in Japan. Specifically, in Shizuoka Prefecture, in the city of Hamamatsu. In this same area is U.A. itself, in the neighboring city of Musutafu, where the anime’s protagonist supposedly lives.

Thirdly... in this world, my name is Nirengeki Shoda.

Who’s that? Was there such a character in the original? What’s his/my Quirk?

I have no idea.

My Quirk hasn’t manifested yet, and I don’t remember this name from the series. Appearance didn’t help much either—a regular kid, not particularly Asian-looking, with wide eyes and hair of an unusual gray-blue color.

The only clue is the name. Not in the sense that I’m the son of Eraser Head, although that thought did cross my mind for a moment, but no: "Shota" is a given name, and my "Shoda" is a surname. It was very unusual to navigate the complexities of a new language with several scripts, where a bunch of words and individual characters can have another bunch of meanings... but I eventually figured out that my new name "Nirengeki" means something like "double strike" or "combo of two hits."

I realized during the first season, with stations named "Tatooine" and beaches called "Dagobah," that the author loves references, and characters like "Manga" from U.A.'s Class 1-B showed that descriptive names are also a thing. So my name isn’t accidental.

But… did it give me any insight? No. Did I remember a character with a similar Quirk? Someone who fought in close combat with combos?.. No. I remember there were a few kids in Class B who could fight in close combat.

But who said the original "Nirengeki" even got into U.A.?

I still don’t know if I have a Quirk.

Next... my parents—Takeda and Sakura Shoda. Both have Quirks, but nothing powerful or heroic.

New biological father of my body—I never could bring myself to call them "Mom" and "Dad" over the past few years—was an ordinary, lean man with chestnut hair. Calm, quiet, tidy, but a rather positive person. He didn’t give off any heroic vibes.

However, he worked as a firefighter and rescuer, which earned him my respect. Not least because of his Quirk, "Effect," which was something like ersatz-telekinesis. He couldn’t pull or throw anything at someone but could perform some mundane actions at a distance of about ten steps—open a door without touching it, for example, or turn off the light. Just an effect, but at a distance.

According to him—he didn’t take me on calls, obviously—this Quirk was very helpful at work. And in general, my father, unlike my mother, was a fan of heroes and wanted to be one himself as a child, but it didn’t work out.

I felt a kindred spirit in him, so we got along well. However, I never got a clear answer to why they gave me this name. Either some ancestor was called that, or a fortune-teller advised it, or they just found it in a list of Japanese names and thought it was pretty.

The blue-haired-boy-me didn’t think so, so I demanded my name be shortened to "Niren." My parents laughed and complied—I became just Niren, or 二連 in Japanese characters. Niren Shoda. If translated literally, my name is "double palm strike," geez. Probably to the face...

My mother was a beautiful and fairly young woman, though a bit nervous. Despite her "pink" name, she had a luxurious blue mane of hair the same shade as mine, took good care of herself, the house, and me (though after a year, she didn’t need to look after me much). She was a typical modern housewife.

Her Quirk was "Timer": utterly useless in a fight but handy in everyday life. She could create the illusion of a clock on any surface, which would count down the set time and then flash bright red. That’s all. But thanks to it, her cooking never burned.

No wonder that despite having a Quirk, my mother—definitely not a fighter—feared villains and robbers and therefore preferred to go out rarely and only during daylight. Even with All Might’s reign, crime in this Japan still flared up regularly, and street clashes happened daily. It makes sense—power, especially superhuman, gets to people’s heads. Those who have it, anyway.

You’re walking to the store for bread and a bottle of kefir... pardon, a bottle of cold tea—kefir isn’t popular here—and suddenly, a superhero and a supervillain crash past you in a fight. Noise, smoke, people scatter, someone from the crowd joins the brawl...

Almost every day. Can you imagine? Passersby can get caught up in it too. Yes, heroes almost always arrive on time, handle it, and the police respond very quickly here, and the blond guy with the bunny ear hairstyle might drop from the sky any moment. But still...

The only conclusion is—I need to get strong. There’s the need to help the unknown benefactor, whom I’m grateful to for the second chance, and the simple desire to live normally without constant fear for my life like my mother, and an old dream given a second wind...

However, above all, a simple chain of reasoning: I need to be strong enough to get into U.A. Why? Because even if I only roughly know the plot of the anime, with a high probability, the events in this world will unfold similarly. This means that the only place where my life will be safe is U.A. Specifically, in the class with Midoriya, Bakugo, and the others. Why?

Because the anime's story revolved around them, so their future is the only one I know. And that only up to a certain point, as I watched the fourth and fifth seasons rather haphazardly, and the sixth season wasn’t even released at that time... Who knows where, how, and when the original story will end.

So I need to be prepared for anything, even the worst-case scenario. This phrase will probably become my life's motto now.

Moreover... the very possibility of influencing future events of the story, for instance, saving someone from death, like All Might’s sidekick, requires me to be close to these events.

However, I was reasonable enough not to rush headlong into saving, say, Tomura (or Shimura?) or even Shoto and his brothers from the mess that happens in their childhood in the original. What can I do without a Quirk, without knowing the exact address and time?

Especially since I’m not even four years old yet. And I don’t have a Quirk. Damn, it’s frustrating—kids my age usually manifest their Quirks by now, but I haven’t at all. I’ve started to repeat myself already.

So... if you don’t rush and think twice, interfering with the known canon might not be such a good idea, either for my personal benefit or for the fate of my new homeland. After all, knowing the future, even approximately, is a very powerful tool. But it requires brains to use it. If I help or save any of the key characters, I might break the original course of events, making everything much worse and, at the same time, losing my own advantage.

Not to mention that the protagonist and future strongest hero—Midoriya—spends his early years so unsure of himself that, for the sake of all of us, he needs those initial victories, even if he has to achieve them alone and on his last breath. So, don’t interfere, Niren!

Moreover, as I understood from the anime’s plot, if there’s no future threat to the whole world from the revolutionary anarchist Tomura Shigaraki, someone else will take his place. It’s like what Tolstoy wrote in War and Peace: historical events are influenced not by specific individuals but by the people and society. The blow is struck by a spear, and anyone could be its tip.

However, in the events of the Napoleonic War, which Tolstoy analyzed, there was no All Might or All for One. And here they exist.

And then there’s me. But no Quirk! Damn, I’m just wasting time! Physical training at my age is at best not harmful, but I could and should be developing superpowers!... If I understand correctly how this all works. And I could already be working on a specific fighting technique for the Quirk... but how do I know what and how to develop?!

In general, I was slowly falling into depression, which looked comical from the outside—to avoid drowning in gloom completely, I engaged in everything... superheroic. Just like last time, but I started earlier. Running, self-defense, theories of Quirk development, and not particularly useful manuals on countering them, available in the public domain, plus the legal regulation of Quirks and state control of professional heroes...

I even started studying regular school subjects in advance, even though in my past life, seeing me with a textbook was simply impossible. And here I was—at three years old!

Anyway... when I finally turned four, I almost dragged my parents to the hospital for the traditional Quirk screening. And I crossed my fingers...

***

My parents were financially middle class, so we went to a perfectly ordinary hospital. In an equally ordinary, almost empty office with no equipment, a doctor was seeing patients—one of those lucky (or unlucky?) enough to have a diagnostic Quirk.

Little me crab-walked onto the couch and sat with a straight back, fists clenched, bracing myself for the worst, ignoring the encouraging empty phrases from my parents.

Even if I don’t have a Quirk... I’ll still become a hero! A vigilante then. The combat skills from my previous world still seem to be with me. I think there was a spin-off manga about such guys, one of whom definitely didn’t have powers...

The office briefly lit up with a blue light. Then the doctor—a big, good-natured bearded man with square glasses—smiled, and my parents simultaneously exhaled in relief.

“You can relax, young man,” the doctor said, removing his glasses and wiping them, continuing to smile. Apparently, he was amused by the stern military seriousness with which the child prepared for bad news. “You definitely have a Quirk, and it’s not a weak one!”

I allowed myself to close my eyes and exhale. That’s good... my dream is finally closer... but still, it’s too early to relax.

“Thank God,” my mother sniffled, wiping away tears and smiling, “Niri was already climbing the walls, and we started worrying too. But is it normal that the Quirk hasn’t manifested yet? Of course, I hope nothing dangerous will awaken...”

“There’s no need to worry. Quirks often manifest after four, and sometimes even after six years, plus not all of them manifest visibly. And as for danger—rest assured! Our state, and the whole world, carefully monitors all potentially dangerous Quirks, and their young owners receive immediate help. I remember once I had a case...”

Yeah, yeah. You helped Tomura too?

Okay, so... He says: “not weak.” But what if I have some Quirk like global silence or search, which, while powerful, won’t help in a fight?

Keep in mind: I need to get into U.A.! Into Class “A”!

Politely, I addressed the bearded man as required:

“Sensei, could you please tell me, is it possible for you to determine exactly what my Quirk does?”

“Well, as you know,” the doctor said importantly, putting his glasses back on, “there’s no official classification of Quirks. It’s impossible—they’re too diverse.”

“I know,” I nodded mechanically. “I read it on Wikipedia.”

The doctor raised an eyebrow, hesitated, then continued:

“I can’t say anything specific; you need to wait for it to manifest. However...” He squinted and froze for a couple of seconds, as if looking through me. By the way, his eyes glowed blue at that moment, and the iris slowly rotated clockwise. A frightening sight. “Your son... I mean, you, Niren-kun... have quite a powerful Quirk associated with telekinesis... something like the remote transmission of kinetic impulse... and um, I think, time manipulation...”

Here it is! Here it is!

I smiled broadly.

But Takeda and Sakura exchanged surprised glances; my father cautiously asked:

“And nothing related to intelligence?”

The doctor’s eyes slid over my now serious face—I was looking back intently—the iris started rotating faster...

“N-no, I don’t see anything. That’s all I can say... phew...” The man with extinguished eyes wearily leaned back in his chair, suddenly going limp.

"Thank you very much, honorable sensei," I stood, bowed, and expressed my gratitude, beating my parents to it. I would have added the suffix "sama" at the end of the address—flattery would have been appropriate here. But alas, in Japan, doctors are addressed simply as "sensei" and nothing else. Whatever. I was genuinely grateful—for good reason!

It seems I finally figured out who I am.

Or rather, I remembered.

The bearded man, upon hearing my expression of gratitude in such a form, grunted in surprise and understandingly nodded to my parents with a smile: "Now I understand why you were surprised. It's not often you meet such... a conscious young man—and at such an age. Yes, the results of the encephalogram indeed indicate that Niren-kun has a highly developed brain, which is atypical for his age. However, I believe that this is due to the factor of his Quirk, that is, the secondary adaptation of the boy's body to his ability. Hmm... as I understand it, this is a vivid example of the fusion of parental Quirks into something new and more powerful. Takeda-san, your ability is related to telekinesis, correct? And Sakura-san, if I remember correctly..."

Losing interest in the ongoing discussion of what I already knew, I delved into my own thoughts.

***

So... I seem to remember that there was a harmless, blue-haired chubby guy in Class 1-B at U.A. I have no idea how he got into U.A. with such physical attributes, let alone managed to score any points during the entrance exam against the robots. But then again, that disgusting dwarf Mineta also got in somehow, so it doesn’t matter.

This chubby guy, if I recall correctly, refused to participate in the sports festival, even though a true fighter, in my opinion, would have been excited by the opportunity to show off, test their strength, and face a worthy opponent one-on-one. Maybe this is the one my mysterious "benefactor," who brought me into this world, referred to as "not a fighter"? That would make sense.

But regardless, the Quirk of this donut was definitely the ability to double the effect of the previous action. If I paraphrase... at the point of any initial strike or impact, he could repeat that strike. And here’s the kicker: he could do it remotely! He could do it on command! And moreover, it seems that the repeated effect was even stronger than the first!

I felt a predatory smile spreading across my face, but I couldn’t help it.

It seems this is even better than I expected! I’ll be able to fight in close combat using my own skills and then repeat the effect of each strike, simultaneously breaking the opponent’s rhythm and smashing through any block! And if I have time to prepare on the battlefield, where there are walls, trees, asphalt, and lamp posts that so love to fall on villains... I won’t just beat my classmates; I’ll overpower even the pros!

Of course, I don’t know what limitations this Quirk has. But like ordinary muscles, they can be trained. That’s what all the articles on the internet say unanimously. And I know a thing or two about training.

That chubby guy who is my alternate self stuck with me precisely because, despite a Quirk that immediately seemed very powerful to me, he acted completely ineffectively and was, again, a ridiculous, clumsy chubby guy.

Hmm... most likely, the mangaka himself perfectly understood that this power in the skilled hands of someone like Bakugo could be incredible, so he made this character a klutz. Like, "enough of young geniuses in U.A. who are stronger than pros in their first year."

Well, we’ll see about "enough."

... How strange it is to think in such terms about the real, living world around me. Some random mangaka turns out to be a god for it?..

Okay. The only thing I absolutely don’t remember is what this wonder—my (my!) Quirk—was called. But that’s not important. The important thing here is the fact that only in this crazy superhero world could such a wild and physics-defying ability arise!

However... I got too excited. Yes, the power is very promising, but my thoughts and what that chubby guy demonstrated in the anime can’t even be compared with what Bakugo, Midoriya, and Shota showed at the same tournament in just their first year. Not to mention all the Nomu, Overhaul, and All Might. And I need to do everything I can to reach their level... and I don’t even know if that’s possible.

Syndrome from "The Incredibles" was wrong. Completely. When almost everyone became "super," there were still plenty who were even more super.

***

I only realized we had said goodbye to the doctor and left the office when I was already sitting in the car. Yeah, I got lost in thought.

After a while, at home, I just sat in the kitchen and hypnotized a fork. I had thrown it on the table a few minutes ago. Superhero training has begun. I wanted to repeat the throw without actually repeating it...

The Quirk didn’t want to activate, and no one provided me with a tutorial, damn it.

And time is ticking.

Maybe I should imagine in detail how I threw it? With what emotions, how I held it, how our kitchen and my frowning face were reflected in this fork?

No, not working.

I stopped drilling the unfortunate cutlery with my gaze and sighed, leaning back in my chair and involuntarily reminding myself of the bearded doctor. Maybe I’m overcomplicating things?

What if I try words?

"Repeat! Effect! Double effect! Impact! Wingardium bloody Leviosa!"

I groaned and started massaging my eyes with my fingers. I’m definitely not waving my magic wand the right way...

Waving?

Then I tried a series of gestures, but even the inappropriate ones had no miraculous effect.

What am I doing wrong?! It’s not like I remember what that guy did in the anime?!

In the end, in frustration, I slammed my small hand onto the table with all my might—which the table, naturally, didn’t feel. Unlike me. The fork didn’t even jingle on the table, but my whole palm was burning. Infuriating! Weakness is infuriating! Everything is infuriating!

I glared angrily at the exact spot where I had just struck...

And then the table thudded, shifted slightly, and the fork clattered to the floor.

Ah... so that’s how it works.

You just need to concentrate not on the action itself but on the specific point where you strike... and when there are many of these points, you’ll need to remember each one... which is damn difficult when you’re on the battlefield, and there’s more than one of them. It seems that guy had some kind of visor that helped him remember all the points where he made contact...

My worried mom... er, mother, ran into the kitchen.

"Are you okay?! Did you fall, hurt yourself?"

"Everything is more than okay," I smirked. "Now I know kung fu."

"O_o."