"Wake up, Clark."
A fifteen-year-old boy with black hair and unremarkable features opened his eyes instantly, pulling himself from sleep. He sat up on the bed and wiped his face.
Looking around the unfamiliar room, a smile touched his lips. He muttered to himself, "He wasn't lying." A low chuckle escaped him. I really thought it was just a dream. To think he told the truth…
"Let's go," he whispered, swinging his legs off the mattress. A wave of excitement rushed through him. "I'm still alive." He stood, steadying himself. "And most importantly, I'm not in a hospital bed. I can walk."
Tentatively, he took a few steps. Then a few more. With each movement, his happiness grew. The simple act of walking felt like a miracle.
"Let's go for a walk," he said, grinning.
He headed out of the small apartment, locked the door, and pocketed the key before stepping into the cool night air. Standing before his new home, he gazed at the sleeping cityscape and took a deep breath.
"This is a good day."
He descended the stairs and, fueled by pure exhilaration, broke into a jog, a smile fixed on his face.
"This is fun!" he exclaimed to the quiet night. "Thank you, God!" He pushed into a sprint, but his new body quickly tired, and he slowed, breathing heavily.
Noticing a swing set to his right, he made his way over and sat down, gently pushing himself into motion. A profound sense of peace settled over him.
"This is amazing," he breathed. Tears welled in his eyes and traced down his cheeks.
He wiped them away. "Getting all teary. But I have to thank whoever made this happen. Thank you."
As he swayed gently, a new thought occurred to him.
"I wonder what memories this body holds."
He placed a hand over his chest and focused, establishing his first rule.
First Rule: "[I can relive the original memories of this body.]"
He concentrated, and the past began to unfold.
At first, there was only darkness and muffled sounds. Then, the perspective shifted to that of an infant, a blurry world of shapes and light. He heard voices and learned his name: Kazuraba Kouta. He learned his parents were heroes.
The memories fast-forwarded. At age four, Kouta was tested for a Quirk. The result was devastating: he was Quirkless.
From that moment, everything unraveled. Kouta was abandoned. To add to the cruelty, his parents adopted another child, one with a Quirk. Kouta was sent to an orphanage.
There, he learned to rely only on himself, forced to grow up too fast. He avoided bullying by becoming a loner, never speaking of his secret dream to become a hero. He knew it would only bring mockery and pain.
Things grew worse when he was forced out of the orphanage to fend for himself. He managed to find a tiny, cheap apartment. The owner, Izumi Rika, was kind and understanding.
Even with her kindness, Kouta refused to be a burden. He found a part-time job at a convenience store, struggling to survive on his own.
The memories ended with a quiet, lonely exhaustion. In the end, simply worn out and with nothing left to fight for, Kazuraba Kouta died in his sleep.
The boy on the swing opened his eyes. "Wow… that's just sad." He looked down at his hands, then spoke softly to the night. "Don't worry, Kazuraba Kouta. I'll take your place from now on. I'll achieve everything you couldn't."
A determined smile spread across his face. He was Kazuraba Kouta now.
Kouta began considering how to use his power appropriately.
'How should I approach this? "New Order" has limitless potential. The possibilities are endless.'
There were simply too many paths he could take.
"Tsk," he clicked his tongue in frustration. "This is harder to think through on the spot. I could go in so many directions with this."
Then he remembered his lifelong dream. He had always wanted to become Superman, not just a hero, but a Kryptonian. They were one of the strongest mortal races in fiction, and Superman was his favorite hero of all.
'Hmm, maybe I can alter my DNA gradually and safely. But I need to ensure the process can't be interrupted. My Quirk itself must be protected.'
He placed a hand over his chest and focused, establishing the first rule for his safety.
First Rule: "[My Quirk cannot be nullified.]"
"That should stop someone like Aizawa from interfering," he murmured.
Second Rule: "[My body will gradually transform into that of a Kryptonian up to one hundred percent, safely and without causing myself any harm.]"
The moment the rule was set, he felt an immediate, subtle shift, a change of perhaps 0.01%. A faint click resonated within him, confirming the power was active, followed by a sudden surge of energy.
Kouta looked down at his hands and smiled.
"I should head back," he said to himself. "Still have school tomorrow."
With that, he returned home and slept deeply through the night.
. . . .
The Next Day
Kouta woke up easily, forty minutes earlier than usual. He washed up, dressed in his school uniform, and realized he didn't feel hungry at all.
'Still, my body is mostly human for now. Better to eat and drink normally.'
After a light breakfast, he enjoyed a leisurely walk to school, basking in the morning sunlight. As he locked his apartment door and headed downstairs, the building's owner, Rika, greeted him.
"Good morning, Kouta-kun."
"Good morning, Rika-san," he replied.
"Heading to school already? You're early today," she said, sounding surprised. She usually saw him leaving much later.
"Yeah, I figured why not? It's my last year of middle school anyway," Kouta said with a casual shrug.
Rika studied him for a moment. "You seem different today. More confident… happier, even. Did you get a girlfriend?" she asked with a playful smile.
Kouta laughed softly. "Thanks, but no. No girl's interested in me."
Rika's expression softened sympathetically, but Kouta's tone remained light.
"It's good to see you, Rika-san. I'll see you later," he said, giving a small wave as he headed out.
"Have a good day!" she called after him.
Kouta continued his sunny walk, feeling genuinely content. Then, his phone chimed with a message from his boss at the convenience store.
Boss: Can you cover the night shift tonight?
Kouta typed a quick reply.
Kouta: Sure. Actually, would it be okay if I took the night shift regularly from now on?
Boss: Oh… okay?
Kouta: Great, thanks boss.
Boss: No problem.
He pocketed his phone. A few minutes later, he arrived at school. With time to spare, he stood in the courtyard, simply enjoying the warmth of the sun on his skin.
Other students gave him curious looks but eventually shrugged and ignored him. When the bell rang, he headed to his classroom.
Thankfully, his seat was at the back of the class, right next to a window. Without hesitation, he carefully positioned his hand just outside the windowpane, allowing the sunlight to fall directly on it.
A classmate nearby finally leaned over and asked, "Hey, Kouta… why is your hand out the window?"
"Oh," Kouta replied, as if it were the most normal thing. "I just found out I have a Quirk."
The classroom fell silent for a moment, then buzzed with surprise. A late bloomer was incredibly rare.
The student sitting in front of him turned around, eyes wide. "What kind of Quirk is it?"
"Mutant-type. I get stronger from sunlight, kind of like photosynthesis," Kouta explained casually.
"Whoa, that's cool."
Almost immediately, the atmosphere around him shifted. Students who had previously ignored him now seemed curious, even friendly.
'The discrimination here is insane,' Kouta thought, keeping his expression neutral. 'The moment they think I have a Quirk, everyone changes their tune.'