Shit, why do I have a headache? I just woke up.
My thoughts came to a halt when I realized I was in an unfamiliar room.
"Where am I?"
That's when I noticed my body was too small. Looking at my hands, they were tiny and pale.
"Am I dreaming?"
I pinched my cheek hard, and the pain instantly chased away my drowsiness. This isn't happening, I thought as I stood up from the bed.
"What the fuck is happening?"
I looked around. It was a very small room with only a bed, a desk, and posters of anime characters I recognized—All Might and Endeavor, the number one and number two heroes of My Hero Academia.
I stopped thinking about the anime and focused on what was happening to me and where I was. At that moment, my headache suddenly worsened. Memories of a child—Ren Takahashi—flooded my mind. No… I should say memories of Leonard Smith came as well.
I was having an identity crisis as two sets of memories merged inside my head. The pain kept increasing, and soon, I passed out.
After some time, I woke up and began sorting through the memories.
First, there was Leonard Smith—a 17-year-old high schooler preparing for the SAT and repeatedly failing it. Then there was Ren Takahashi—a 4-year-old orphan who had lost his parents in a villain attack at a bank… or at least, that was what he had been told.
Wait. Villains? Heroes? All Might?
…Am I in the world of My Hero Academia?
Shit. I didn't even finish watching it, nor did I read the manga. Fuck.
Whatever. First, I needed to sort out the memories—then I could think.
Ren's life was short; he had only lived for four years. One day, a few people came to his house while he was with his babysitter. They told him that his parents had gone to a faraway place and would never come back. After that, he became an orphan and was taken to Yamato Kodomo-en orphanage in Kyoto.
Then there was Leonard—a 17-year-old novel addict who kept failing the SAT because he couldn't stop reading. To lose weight and limit his reading habit, he joined a gym and even tried writing a novel of his own.
Now that the memories were sorted, the question remained:
Who am I—Ren or Leonard?
After thinking it through, I came to a conclusion. I am Ren, with the memories of Leonard. The logic was simple: I was in Ren's body, so I was Ren.
As my contemplation about my identity came to an end, the door to my room opened. A woman, about twenty-five years old, walked in.
