summary: oh no. you’ve been reincarnated into the world of my hero academia. soooo scary.
back in middle school, you were obsessed with a show called ‘my hero academia’.
you bought all the merch, went to every convention, and most importantly watched the show and read the mange. admittedly though, your family wasn’t very well off, so your father had to pirate it.
but that was what—two years ago? you’re in junior high now, and while your love for the show didn’t wane for the most part, other works have piqued your interest more. your figurines lay bunched up in an old box in your closet, your corny hoodies and t-shirts folded neatly in your bottom drawer, posters rolled up in the garage, all left to collect dust and for your little cousins to play with.
the most embarrassing of your collection was a cringey little fanfic you wrote on wattpad after watching a few edits, which, surprisingly got pretty popular at the time. it’s left half-finished and the unreleased chapters are still in your drafts. you couldn’t bear to finish it.
safe to say, your ‘my hero’ phase was pretty standard for a first-time watcher, and you were proud to have found the courage within yourself to step out of your comfort zone and interact with the fandom, as toxic as it may be.
you smile at yourself from the memories, causing your classmate to playfully bump your shoulder, urging you to focus as you two walk along the empty, rural streets from your school to your house. it’s rather peaceful, now that you think about it.
your whole life is peaceful, and you couldn’t be more grateful for it.
the two of you stop by a familiar corner, the one leading to your house with a few right turns, and bid each other goodbye. the light turns red, and you instinctively begin walking towards the other side.
as usual, today feels like another boring but pleasant one. your chest still feels warm, your friends feel genuine, your parents wait for you with a warm meal, the sun sets and casts a stunning orange-pink hue on the horizon. you don’t just feel amazing, you feel at home.
but… the world really does hate the ordinary, doesn’t it?
your classmate screams your name, (R̵̠͉͇̲̗̞̬͒̊̆͌̇́̂̕͝Ẹ̸̻̟͓̳̲̥̞͕̀́̎̀̕D̷̤͈̪͕̬͌̾͗̃͗͂̏͗̉Ạ̵̡̢̞̑̄͆̊̐̍̑͘͝C̵̨̟̮͔̮̪̮̖̬̥̆̔̍͛̏̃̅T̴̛͇͍̊̉͐́̍͠Ḛ̸͔̥̯͕̌̃͒Ḋ̵̗͍͈̰), and you turn your head to face them. they’re reaching out to you, horror in their eyes. you hear the loud roar of a horn, and suddenly, everything goes black.
when you wake up, it seems to be only a few minutes later, your friend cradles your face with tears streaming down their face, begging for something. the high-pitched ringing in your ears is too loud, you can’t make out a thing.
your eyes divert to your body, and you realize—you’ve been hit by a vehicle. your right side is entirely crooked from taking the brunt of the truck, a particularly deep gash on your abdomen where the sharp number plate has burrowed itself into. blood pools around that spot, staining your uniform.
you can faintly hear muffled chatter from behind you, probably the police or paramedics. and yet, they only speak of the person who hit you, the driver. that alone is more than enough for anyone to know—
funnily enough, when you look ahead, the sky is still beautiful, like you’re not there, like is still peaceful.
your phone buzzes with a notification from your other friend, the cracked screen lighting up in your hands, not knowing they were too cold to send back a reply.
your parents are still probably waiting for you at home, thinking you’re simply late, unaware that they had prepared a third plate for someone who wouldn’t come back.
your cat nuzzles into your pillow, not even thinking of the possibility that it’s owner would no longer be there to sleep beside it.
you chuckle, though it’s more of a weak, tired wheeze, as your vision begins to blur—a sign of your inevitable demise.
‘I wonder, if there is a god out there, would they spare me a chance, and let me live just one more life?’
‘ahh… have i been reincarnated?’
your body feels warm, but not the same kind of warmth you felt in your old life. but it still, nonetheless felt good, and for now, that’s all you need.
regaining your senses, you realize you’re once again, a child (though technically, you were always a child).
the first thing you see are the fluorescent lights of a hospital room. had you just been birthed? no, that can’t be it, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to see this well.
when you look to your right, an IV drip is connected to your hand, along with a blood bag. the steady beep of a heart monitor is the first thing you hear, the next being two voices just a few feet away from you.
“—and how old is this child?”
“ehh, not sure. three, maybe four years old? looks about right.”
the first person sighs. “mrs. fukukado, we need real information about them, not just random guesses.”
you perk up at that name. ‘mrs. fukukado? as in… emi fukukado?’
the latter laughs. “hey, that was a solid guess! i’d say i’m right on the money. oh, and
“that’s ms. joke to you!”
you sit up abruptly, wondering if you had heard that right. the memory is fuzzy, but you nonetheless know that name. she’s a friend of aizawa. you turn your head to the source of the conversation, and lo and behold.
it’s that bright green hair and orange bandana, along with those weird jester shorts.
you’ve actually been reincarnated into a show you haven’t seen since middle school.
emi senses your awakening and moves to your side in a flash, but the doctor is quick to stop her. “while i’m sure you’re worried about the child, it’s best we give them time to adjust.” she pouts and his words, but follows along and instead leans against the wall.
the doctor kneels to your height, a kind smile on his face. “hello, little one. my name is doctor idayama. we’re just going to ask a few questions, if that’s okay with you? you can keep resting until you’re ready.”
you mutter something about the first option, and they begin gently prying at your identity. but any hope of gathering information of your background is quickly dismissed with every ‘i don’t know’ or ‘i’m not sure’ you give them. they assure you it’s not your fault, however—you’re a child, after all. then they ask the question that really matters.
“little one. what’s your name?”
you paused at that. what was your name? you’ve forgotten it in the midst of all of this. did your original parents even give you a name? is that why you’re here without a guardian?
now that you think about it, so much has happened. you remember your death so vividly, it’s hard to get it out of your head. you don’t realize you’re crying until you see your hospital gown getting wet from your tears.
so this is what being a child feels like.
pure helplessness, absolute vulnerability towards your emotions. it feels so horrible, not being able to hold back your tears.
you look up and see emi, a strange expression on her face, trying to coerce you into smiling again, although you were never smiling in the first place.
you’ve stopped crying, at least.
but now, there’s a look of utter disgust in your eyes, lips curling into a scowl.
emi only laughs in response.
a few hours later, you’re taken outside of the hospital, two different vehicles parked in the lot. on the right is ms. joke, who leans against her custom-painted minivan, urging you to her side with a grin.
on the left is a familiar man, dressed in standard police uniform.
“young lady, this is mr. tsukauchi, the man who helped ms. joke take you here. you didn’t see him because he was still in the middle of some important errands.” doctor idayama introduces. “after some extensive research, and because you still have no knowledge of your parents or lineage, the government is still taking time to get you into our systems, and all orphanages in the region are full. so, both of these fine folks have offered to be your legal guardian.”
tsukauchi kneels down in front of you. “hey, kid. you’re looking healthy. the doctor was nice?” he asks gently. you nod. he pats your head, calloused fingers rubbing your forehead.
“you’re very strong. i… know i don’t look the part, but i’m willing to take care of you.”
“oi, oi, oi!” emi stomps to you as well, squatting down to your height. “you’re stealing my spotlight, ‘uchi! i’mthe one who made her stop crying! hey, kid, come with me! i’ve got a whole bunch of toys and cool gadgets for you to play with! you’ll have a blast.” she gives you a big thumbs up.
doctor idayama places a hand on your shoulder. “well, kid,
“who do you wanna go with?”
you take a step back, considering your choices. your eyes dart between the two of them. strangely enough, you don’t feel any pressure, like whichever option you choose will end in something good regardless.
so, you go with what your heart compels you to choose.
“…ms. fukukado.” you mutter quietly. “i know you did a lot to make me feel better, and i’m sure you played a big role in ensuring i’d be safe. however, i’d like to stay with mister policeman for now. but you can visit us whenever you’d like, or at least whenever hero work isn’t hogging your schedule.”
emi, at your words, visibly deflates, sinking onto her knees—only to just as quickly get back up again. she laughs confidently, puffing her chest up like a robin.
“haha! i quite like your style, kid. you’ve got a good mindset. and don’t call me by my name—it just simply sounds much too weird! call me… auntie joke!”
a small smile creeps in your face, still sticking even as you bid your auntie goodbye, the minivan revving away in an almost cartoonish manner.
tsukauchi gently ushers you into his own car, the drive to his temporary flat quiet but pleasant.
when you get to the apartment, you’re surprised to see a rather cute bed settled in the corner. he’d plannedthis, those ‘errands’ he ran were actually just him frantically preparing you a place to stay.
he laughs awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “i’m gonna be honest, i was hoping you’d come along with me, otherwise this would all be for nothing,”
you hum in response tracing the wooden headboard carefully. the linen sheets are soft, the pillows are the right amount of puffy, and the bed is big enough to hold you for several years.
tsukauchi abruptly leaves and comes back with a few bags of takeout, setting it on the low table.
‘wow, it’s that late already?’ you look outside, and the sun has already set, night blanketing the sky in its darkness.
he unboxes the food carefully. there’s rice, vegetables, and such. but one dish in particular catches your eye. “what’s that?” you ask.
“this?” he bites into the crunchy spring roll. “it’s a filipino dish called lumpia. want some?” tsukauchi brings one of the rolls to your lips, and you automatically take a bite.
the sweet, savory flavors explode in your mouth—it’s delicious. so delicious you immediately take another bite after swallowing. and then another. tsukauchi is pleasantly surprised at your eagerness. “woah-slow down, you’re gonna choke. do you like it?”
you nod, picking up your chopsticks to take another one. and then another one. and then you’ve finished the whole box of lumpia, ready to eat the spicy ones too, which he quickly denies.
eventually, your fullness catches up to you, and you feel very sleepy. tsukauchi is happy to tuck you into to bed—not after brushing your teeth though.
he chuckles. “too much to eat? i probably should’ve stopped you at your fourth.”
you stare mindlessly into the ceiling. “worth it.”
an: yo, ws good my friends. i’ve been on one real long hiatus, so hopefully i don’t abandon this fic. anyways, be prepared for sum dark shit
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