I slowly opened my eyes, trying to focus on my surroundings. Everything was blurry, hazy, but I could still grasp the essentials. First, I had been reborn. That was no longer in doubt. Second, if the doctors and the silence surrounding the place were any indication, my mother had died. And third, I was now called Steven Quartz Universe, a name that didn't seem accidental, but rather a key piece of what I carried within me and the pact I had made with the entities that brought me here.
I looked around with difficulty. I was in a house. I didn't know exactly when, but at some point, I lost consciousness again. When I awoke, several days had passed. Enough to see my father deep in grief, pacing the house with heavy steps, caring for me with a quiet dedication I hadn't expected. Greg Universe. That was his name. An ordinary worker, exhausted, broken, but present.
As time went on, I understood something else. We had moved. From the United States to Japan. Just that thought gave me a headache. I shook my head slightly, or at least tried to. Learning two languages from scratch, English and Japanese, wasn't exactly encouraging. I wished those who had sent me here had given me full understanding.
Spoiler alert: They didn't.
While I lay awake, I watched my father talking to a woman. It was in English, and I could barely make out fragments, but the context was clear.
"I hope it's not too much to ask, Miss Connie," Greg said, dark circles under his eyes.
"Not at all, Mr. Greg," she replied calmly. "Here in this country, this is how I make a living. Just tell me roughly the hours and what time I should be there."
Greg nodded slowly.
"Nine hours, practically."
"I understand," Connie said without hesitation.
"Does that sound good?"
"Yes," she replied calmly.
"Well, shall we begin?"
"I can today," he said with the same serenity as before.
"Perfect," Greg replied, grabbing his laptop.
"I'll pay you tonight."
"Understood, Mr. Greg."
"Okay," she said, watching my father walk away.
I slowly closed my eyes.
Something told me my life had truly begun, even if I couldn't quite grasp it yet.
Three months passed without a trace, and yet, in that time, my mind was filled with ideas I shouldn't have at that age.
First, I was a legitimate son. Second, I was in a world I'd barely known in my previous life. My Hero Academia. I'd thought I'd wake up in something like Steven Universe, but the simple fact of being born in a hospital should have given me a clearer clue from the start.
I lay on the sofa, carefully observing my surroundings. In front of me, Connie, my nanny, was working on her UA assignments with admirable concentration. She was a good person. American, like my father, but she had come to Japan in search of better opportunities. According to her, it was also because here the heroes allowed children to spend more time alone, which made jobs like hers necessary. She didn't just take care of me; she looked after three other children on different days.
But that didn't matter now.
My father worked certain days and only needed help when he couldn't stay with me. Today was one of those days.
I looked down at my stomach. The gem was there, rounded outwards, perfectly integrated into my body. From the outside, it looked harmless, almost decorative, but inside it felt different. It was like having a point stuck inside, a constant pressure that didn't hurt, but never went away.
"It's not quartz."
I knew it.
It was a diamond.
As I thought that, something suddenly hit my mind. A memory I hadn't activated until now, as if I'd been waiting for the exact moment.
"Damn... the template."
As soon as that thought was complete, something happened.
A panel appeared in front of me, floating in the air. Connie couldn't see it. No one else could see it. Only I could perceive it, as if it existed directly within my field of vision.
Information:
Name: Steven Quartz Universe
Current Age: 3 months
Status: Reincarnated
Template: Steven Universe
Template Progress: 0%
Physical Condition: Stable
Mental Condition: Developing
Template Compatibility: Unknown
Unlocked Abilities: None
Sealed Abilities:
– Protective Shield
– Regeneration
– Healing
– Solid Light Manifestation
– Fusion
Unlock Condition: Minimum emotional progress and mental stability required
Warning: Premature use of the template may cause emotional instability and irreversible physical damage.
The panel remained in front of me for a few more seconds before slowly fading away, as if it had never existed.
I remained silent.
"So it's real."
It wasn't just a pretty title or an abstract blessing. It was something tangible, something that would grow with me, something I couldn't ignore.
I closed my eyes again, pretending to sleep.
For now, I was just a baby.
But the world I'd been reborn into wasn't going to wait for me to be ready.
But, at the end of the day, I was still a damn baby. I wasn't going to get too cocky. I couldn't move freely or do anything spectacular, so the only sensible thing was to train my mind, not my body. I limited myself to reviewing concepts, organizing memories, and not forgetting what I already knew. In my past life, I'd been an electrical technician, or well, a semi-technician; I was in my final year. That knowledge would come in handy in this world sooner or later.
And so the months passed.
I couldn't do much more than lie in bed, trapped in my thoughts, staring at the ceiling or whatever was on TV. My father used to put on shows to pass the time, but, to be honest, most of them seemed as awful as could be. So, whenever I could, I managed to get him to put on something different. Something from my old world. Something that, curiously, ended up gaining both hatred and favor from the people.
"That one-eyed son of a bitch cat," I thought with a barely perceptible smile.
"I hope this works."
If it did, maybe my father wouldn't have to work so hard.
"You're so clever, Steven," I said to myself, amused, as I closed my eyes.
And so two years passed.
Steven was now crawling around the house, moving clumsily from one side to the other, while his father watched him with undisguised pride. Greg didn't miss a chance to take pictures of him from every possible angle.
"These are going in the album," he said as he walked over to a thick book and began to carefully arrange the photographs.
He paused for a moment, examining one of them more closely.
"Oh, Steven... what would your mother say?" he murmured.
A tear escaped, a mixture of joy and sadness, but he didn't let it spoil the moment. He carefully closed the album and looked at me again.
And so another year passed.
One in which, finally, I could stand and walk on my own, taking unsteady steps, unaware that each one brought me, little by little, closer to the destiny that awaited me.
"How beautiful," Connie said as I wandered around the house the next day.
"Wawawa," I said, feeling like I couldn't speak. First, I didn't understand much English, and second, Chinese was going to take me quite a while.
"Sit down," Connie said as she took hold of my armpits and placed me on the couch, surrounding me with pillows.
"Stay here, I'll make you lunch," she added as she walked toward the kitchen, glancing back at me every five minutes.
At least she's a good nanny, I thought.
"Template," I murmured in my mind.
The template appeared in front of me.
The information on the template was clearly visible.
My eyes immediately fixed on the percentage.
"1%".
How the heck did I unlock it? No idea, but hey, I'm at 1%. Getting closer to 100% every day.
I looked at the available abilities.
The shield was the most basic. The bubble was key. The healing saliva could be quite useful. The rest seemed clearly designed for the future, but the basics would be fine for training.
For example, I could train, and when my muscles were at their limit, I would just have to rub my own saliva on them to heal. That way, my muscles would recover faster, and I could continue.
Of course, I would have to be careful not to overdo it.
A year passed, and now I was four years old, an excellent age. I could already understand Chinese better, mainly because they let me watch videos on the computer, and I took advantage of that to refresh my memory and learn languages, switching from Spanish to Japanese. A good strategy in theory, although in practice it was quite difficult.
I glanced at the latest course he was taking, an English course with some clearly fabricated information. Mr. Juan Alvarado was about to graduate from beginner Japanese, I thought with a small chuckle.
I looked up and saw my father, Greg, cooking while occasionally glancing at a photo of my mother hanging in the kitchen. It was a framed picture of the two of them, as if it were the only thing keeping him sane.
I got up from the couch, walking more calmly now for obvious reasons; four years of practice were paying off.
As I walked toward the kitchen, I saw my father with music playing in the background, a melody he had composed himself. From what I'd heard many times, it was the song he dedicated to my mother. They were both from the United States, but work had brought them here. The pay was better, the status was higher, and, in general, everything had improved. You could practically say this place was our permanent home, at least until he won the lottery, I suppose.
"Hey, Stevo," my father said when he noticed me.
"We're going to see your mother tomorrow, so get ready, okay?"
No wonder he was staring at the photo so much, I thought, now understanding.
I nodded and went back to the armchair. When my father wasn't looking, I continued with a few more classes.
The next day.
I watched from the back of the truck as my father drove on with calming music playing in the background. We were both in comfortable silence. What else could I say? I was supposed to be a child, and staying quiet was the most logical thing to do. I simply watched as the landscape changed, from a large city to green fields, and from green fields to ever-widening stretches of land.
"Yes," my father said as he stopped.
"I've come to see a grave."
"I understand," the guard replied.
"Grave number."
"909876," he said calmly.
"Rose Quartz?" the guard asked.
"Yes," Greg replied.
"You can go in, you have an hour," he said calmly.
"Okay," my father replied as the truck pulled away.
We parked nearby while my father helped me out of the truck. We both got out, and he took my hand as we walked among the graves. There were many, some large, some small, some even with noticeable differences caused by the powers of the people buried there, mutations that accompanied them even to their deathbed. Each headstone told a silent story.
When we reached the grave, we both stopped in front of the headstone.
Rose Quartz.
Year of birth XXXX.
Date of death XXXX.
We stood there, observing in silence, until my father finally spoke.
"Hello, sweetheart," he said with a gentle smile.
He sat down by the grave, and I did the same, resting my hands on my legs as I looked at the name carved into the stone.
"I know you're probably watching us," he continued, "but life is a little quieter now."
He paused briefly before going on.
"Work's going well. Like I told you, I hired a nanny because I'm not very good in the kitchen."
He chuckled, aware of his own bad joke.
"You already knew that, didn't you?" he said, not waiting for an answer.
Then he seemed to remember something.
"Oh, yes. Steven turned four a week ago. He's going into kindergarten now. He needs to make friends," he remarked calmly.
Then he turned his head toward me.
"Right, Stevo?"
"Yes, I need friends. Connie told me the same thing," I replied with my childish grin.
"Hehe," my father said, looking up at the sky, as if searching for something among the clouds.
"You're about to discover your Quirk. Although I know it's mutant, it could be a combination of both."
He paused for a second before continuing.
"Your mother's Quirk was a diamond that accumulated energy," he said calmly.
"Mine is the ability to control reality on a small scale, creating physical things."
He smiled slightly.
"Let's see what comes of this."
"I hope it's something good," I said, looking at the grave.
"No matter what it is, Stevo," my father replied, gently ruffling my hair.
"Whatever you have, you'll always be my little Stevo."
He said it with a smile so bright it seemed to light up the whole place.
"Thank you, Dad," I said as I moved closer to him.
We both stayed like that for an hour, talking to my mother's grave, until our time finally ran out.
"Thank you, sir," my father said as we left.
"At your service," the guard replied, watching us drive away from the cemetery.
"Connie will be watching you tomorrow, so behave yourself," my father said calmly, without taking his eyes off the road.
"Okay," I replied, looking straight ahead from my baby seat.
A comfortable silence settled in, the kind that doesn't make you uncomfortable, it just keeps you company. The truck's engine, the landscape slowly passing by, and my thoughts swirling around in a jumble.
"Template," I murmured to myself.
I didn't need to check the other data. This time, only one thing mattered to me.
4%.
There it was, clear as day.
"I guess the more I understand my emotions, the more I progress," I thought with a touch of curiosity. "But then, what will the summoning of my quirk be like?"
The thought filled me with a strange anticipation, a mixture of excitement and forced patience. I knew I was too young to do anything about it, so there was nothing left to do but wait.
And so the rest of the day passed. Uneventful, uneventful. Just sleep, with the faint hope that tomorrow would be, at least, a little better than yesterday.
End of Chapter 2.