Later That Night – 11:34 PM
Hana slept soundly on the futon.
She made me remember my sister in my previous world.
I sat by the broken window, I'd covered it with cardboard and tape earlier, staring at my hands.
The news played softly on Hana's old phone. Battery at 12%.
"—disaster-level villain subdued earlier today. Authorities credit the combined efforts of three pro heroes. No civilian casualties reported. The villain, designated as 'Ripper,' has been transported to Tartarus—"
No mention of me. Good.
The footage had been too chaotic. Too much smoke and dust and by the time the media arrived, I was already gone.
Just another face in the crowd.
Exactly how I need to keep it.
I looked at the cardboard covering the window. A reminder of what happened when I wasn't careful.
A single punch at 1% strength, maybe less, had shattered glass.
What would happen at full strength?
I didn't want to find out at least not yet. Or maybe never.
I pulled out Kaito's student ID again. Studied the tired eyes in the photo.
Quirkless.
That's what he'd been.
That's what everyone thought he was.
And now—
Now I had power that could reshape landscapes.
How?
The question gnawed at me.
Masaru said Kaito's Quirk had been erased by some syndrome. Gone forever.
But what if it wasn't erasure?
What if something else happened?
What if—
I stopped.
Too many questions. Not enough answers.
I needed information. Kaito's medical records. School files. Anything that could explain what happened to this body before I arrived.
Tomorrow I'd start digging.
For now—
I stood and walked to the corner where Hana kept a small cardboard box. Inside: old photos, documents, random keepsakes.
I sorted through them carefully.
A photo of two adults. They must be the parents. They looked quite unhappy.
The second thing I found was a hospital bracelet. Kaito's name. Dated six years ago.
A rejection letter from a hero middle school. "Due to lack of Quirk manifestation—"
I stopped.
Underneath everything else, a small notebook.
I pulled it out.
The cover was worn. Pages dog-eared.
I opened it.
"Training Log – Yamamoto Kaito"
My—his—handwriting.
Entries dated from two years ago.
"Day 1: Masaru says I need to build strength even without a Quirk. 50 push-ups. 50 sit-ups. Couldn't finish."
"Day 15: Made it to 100 push-ups today. Arms feel like they're going to fall off."
"Day 47: Saw a pro hero take down a villain today. I want to be like that. Even without a Quirk, I'll find a way."
The entries continued. Months of training, dedication and a hope for power.
Then—
"Day 134: Diagnosis confirmed. Quirk Erasure Syndrome. The doctor said my Quirk Factor has completely died. No chance of recovery. Mom cried. Dad didn't say anything."
"Day 135: Didn't go to training. What's the point?"
The entries became sporadic after that.
"Day 198: Masaru stopped texting. Can't blame him. Why waste time on someone who'll never be a hero?"
"Day 240: Parents are fighting again. It's always about money. About me. About how I'm 'broken.'"
"Day 301: They left. Took everything but Hana. Said they couldn't handle it anymore. I'm fifteen. Hana is nine. We're alone."
The last entry was dated three months ago.
"Day 365: Still alive and still working. Still worthless. But Hana smiled today and that's enough."
I closed the notebook.
My hands were shaking.
Kaito had suffered, struggled and finally, lost everything.
He died in a random disaster, alone and forgotten.
And I took his place.
I'm sorry, I thought. I'm sorry I couldn't save you.
But I'll take care of Hana.
I promise. I think that's what you'd want. She's all you had.
I put the notebook back carefully.
Returned to my spot by the window.
The city glittered in the distance. Somewhere out there, heroes patrolled. Villains schemed. The world turned.
And I was just a ghost in a dead boy's body.
Trying to figure out how to control power I didn't earn.
Trying to survive in a world I only knew from a screen.
Trying to protect the one person who still believed Kaito mattered.
I clenched my fist.
Precise control.
That's what I needed.
Not just of my strength, but of everything.
My identity. My story. My future.
Starting tomorrow, I'd take the first real step.
Figure out what happened to Kaito.
Master this power.
And when the time came—
I'd face UA's entrance exam.
Not as the strongest.
But as someone careful enough to hide it.
I didn't want anyone to pester us. That was the reason. Too many interactions with too many characters in UA would become a problem. Though, I still wanted to get accepted as a student in UA, so I decided to do the bare minimum.
I looked at Hana one more time.
She mumbled something in her sleep. Probably dreaming about something good.
I smiled.
Yeah. That's totally the plan.
A few hours later - Same Place
I didn't sleep that night. Of course, I couldn't.
Because, every time I closed my eyes, I saw Kaito's notebook. His words. His pain.
"Day 365: Still alive and still working. Still worthless."
The words echoed.
By the time dawn crept through the cardboard-covered window, I'd made three decisions.
One: Find Kaito's medical records and understand what really happened to his Quirk. Looking at how it happened, it definitely isn't All For One.
Two: Master control again. Enough to function normally and to not accidentally kill someone.
Three: Register for UA's entrance exam under a Quirk name that wouldn't draw attention.
Simple plan. But impossible execution.
But I had to try.
Hana stirred. Rubbed her eyes and sat up slowly.
"Nii-san? You're awake already?"
"Couldn't sleep," I said.
She frowned. "Bad dreams?"
You have no idea, sis.
"Something like that."
She stood and stretched. "I'll make breakfast. We still have some rice and—"
"I'll handle it," I said quickly. "You get ready for school."
She blinked, looking quite surprised.
Kaito never made breakfast. He was always too tired from work. Too drained.
But I wasn't Kaito. Not really. So I could do it. Probably.
"Okay," she said softly. "Thank you, Nii-san."
Morning – 7:15 AM
I burned the rice completely.
I'd tried to stir it with a wooden spoon. The spoon snapped in half. I grabbed the pot handle and accidentally held it too hard, it bent.
By the time I salvaged what I could, the rice was more charcoal than food.
Why don't we have a rice cooker?
Hana stared at the blackened mess.
"Maybe… maybe I should make breakfast," she said carefully.
I sighed. "Yeah. Probably."
She didn't ask questions. Just quietly made a new batch while I cleaned up the destruction.
I couldn't even cook rice without breaking something.
How was I supposed to fight villains? Use my sneezes like Saitama?
Eisei Junior High – 10:42 AM
It was history class. The most boring shit in this world.
The teacher droned about the Dawn of Quirks. How society changed overnight. How heroes rose to fill the void with the help of the government.
I stared out the window.
Musutafu General Hospital was visible in the distance. It was a tall white building with a red cross on the side.
That's where Kaito's medical records would be, but I needed access.
How? Because, I couldn't just walk in and ask. They'd want ID and parental consent along with some sort of authorization.
And I didn't have shit on me. Not even Kaito's memories.
Oof. Let me think.
The hospital would have digital records. Backed up and secured.
I'd need a hacker.
Or—
I pulled out Kaito's phone. Opened the contacts.
Most were empty and deleted. But a few remained.
Masaru. Hana. And—
"Yuki – Tech Genius"
I stared at the name.
Opened the message history.
The last conversation was from eight months ago.
Yuki: "Heard about your parents. I'm sorry."
Kaito: "It's fine."
Yuki: "It's not. But if you need anything—anything—let me know."
Kaito: "Thanks."
No messages after that.
Tech Genius? Let's see if she can help.
However, I hesitated a little. I didn't interact much with girls in my previous life. It was my sister most of times that reminded me that there was another gender in this world.
Quite a miserable life, right?
Slowly, I gathered courage and typed: "Hey. It's been a while. Need a quick favor. Can we talk?"
Sent and then waited.
Three minutes passed.
The reply came.
Yuki: "Kaito?! Holy crap. I thought you disappeared. Yeah, let's talk. After school? Usual place?"
Usual place. Oh right. Like hell I'd know.
I closed my eyes and tried to search Kaito's fragmented memories.
An image surfaced. A small internet café. Two blocks from school. Dim lighting. Private booths.
Me: "Yeah. 4 PM?"
Yuki: "See you there."
I pocketed the phone.
Step one: complete.
Lunchtime – Rooftop
I sat alone.
Eating the rice Hana had packed. Simple and plain. But edible.
Footsteps behind me.
I turned. It was Masaru.
He held a bento box and a bottle of water. "Mind if I join you?"
I shrugged. "Free country."
He sat. Opened his lunch. "How's the hand?"
I looked at my hand. "Fine. Why?"
"You crushed ten pipes yesterday. Figured you'd have bruises."
"No bruises."
He studied me. "Your Quirk really did change, didn't it?"
I didn't answer.
He took a bite of rice. Chewed thoughtfully.
"I did some research last night," he said. "Quirk Erasure Syndrome. It's permanent in 99.9% of cases. The only documented recovery was a girl in Hokkaido. Took seven years. And her Quirk came back weaker than before."
He looked at me.
"Yours came back stronger. Way stronger. That's not normal."
Yes, I had to be the handpicked guy who's not normal.
"Maybe I'm the exception," I said.
"Maybe." He didn't sound convinced. "Or maybe something else happened."
I met his eyes. "Like what?"
"I don't know." He leaned back. "But I've been thinking. What if it's not the same Quirk? What if losing the old one somehow triggered a new one?"
Close. Too close.
"Quirks don't just change," I said carefully.
"They don't come back from erasure either."
Fair point.
We sat in silence.
A crow landed on the railing. Pecked at a crumb.
"Whatever it is," Masaru said, "we'll figure it out. Together."
We. He kept saying that. Like we were partners. Like I was really Kaito.
I still couldn't get over this new life.
And I wanted to tell him the truth.
Wanted to explain that his friend was gone. That I was just a ghost wearing his face.
But I didn't.
Because I needed Masaru.
"Thanks," I said quietly.
He grinned. "That's what friends are for."
The bell rang.
Lunch was over.
We stood and packed our things.
As we walked back inside, Masaru said, "Training tonight?"
"Can't. I have something I need to do."
"Tomorrow then?"
"Yeah. Tomorrow."
He nodded and we split at the stairwell.
Him to Class 3-A.
Me to Class 3-B.
Two kids walking different paths.
One with hope.
One with secrets.
TO BE CONTINUED...