Was there a thing such as fate? That question popped up in James Franklin's mind, a young bachelor of Caucasian descent mused for what he assumed to be his last thoughts. Was his life already written down, carved in stone and dictated by forces unknown? Were every paths he taken had already been predetermined since before his birth, every action he took a consequence of events already in motion? James squinted as the heat slowly dissipated from his body, his dark warm blood pooling the sidewalk and seeped into the soil. The mind was a curious thing, he thought to himself, the pain had already given way to a cold numbness, and yet his conscience had enough strength to formulate these philosophical questions.

It felt odd, dying that is. He thought the process might be faster, a panic driven state where he desperately clung to life, but it felt oddly... peaceful, in a certain way. He'd thought that he'd be haunted with memories of his life, the decisions he'd made and the regrets of leaving it all unattended—yet there were none of that. He couldn't really claimed it to be acceptance either, for that would suggest he welcomed death—far from it. However it would be apt to say that the fear of inevitability did not come to him as he predicted it would. Perhaps the injury was far more severe internally, drawing oxygen, and thus rationality, away from his brain.

James allowed his eyes, twin orbs of dull grey, now strained with rushing blood, giving them a red taint, to gazed his surrounding. The car was still there, crumpled and twisted, half of its chassis embedded into the building, a smear of scarlet painted the ground. To his side were people, shouting and screaming in alarm, staring at him and the others of the same state. He should felt anger at the injustice of it all, dying at a force beyond his control, in a situation he was incapable of avoiding, from an irresponsible hand of a stranger. James had no doubt that these notions were in the mind of others around him, those who suffered a grisly end before he did. Yet James felt no rage, he felt absolutely nothing at all.

A strained cough escaped his lips, then another. Pain flaring inside his chest and it spread across his systems, the agonizing feeling only tempered by his dull awareness. This was it, James frowned, he could feel the cold embrace of it. His blurred vision and hazy conscience was a clear symptom to his inevitability. The man did not struggle when the muscles of his diaphragm slowed, he did not wallow when his heart weakened, nor did he resisted as the last flickers of his neurons finally withered. At that moment, during the dawn of a new year, James Franklin, son of Michael Franklin, nineteen years of age, had passed away.

However, this was far from the epilogue of his tale. As the fragments of James' consciousness fleeted away, the man saw a flicker of light at the edge of his darkening vision that suddenly grew larger and potent. This incident may be the end of a young man's life, but it was also a new chapter of an emerging soul and the prologue to the next saga.

In Another Space of Another Time

The sound of a guttural shriek filled the emergency room as medical staffs hurried in their steps and diligent in their task. A doctor clad in green heavy robes and donning a double-layered mask stood patiently with her nurse at the side.

"Just a bit more, push!" The doctor encouraged, her hands carefully grasping something small and alive. The woman in question screamed, tears streaked her eyes as she gritted her teeth, the agony of her situation made the doctor's voice a bit aggravating but she complied nonetheless. The doctor held her hand steadily as two nurses assisted with the process, in a tense, strained, moment, the practitioners seemed excited. "That's it! You're close!"

With a final scream, whatever nightmare that afflicted the woman ended and she sighed in a collective relief of the room. Various nurses finally gave their own exhale at a job well done. The doctor paused, catching her breath before she smiled, staring at the infant in her hand, but that smile morphed to a mild concern.

"H- how is he?" The woman, now a mother, voiced. Her brown eyes staring intently at the healer. Noticing her hesitation, worry blossomed her heart, frowning slightly as she urged the other woman to respond. "Is he okay?"

The doctor merely blinked as she walked towards the young mother. "He, uhh... didn't cry. Normally that is concerning enough but since his heartbeat and breathing is steady, he is fine for now. I'll run check on him, if..." suddenly, as if triggered by something, the infant cried out. The doctor sighed, "nevermind then. Do you want to hold him?"

"Yes please!" The young mother cried out as she held out her hands. Once the child was within her grasp, she hurriedly pulled it to her embrace, her eyes full of love. The woman smiled at the sight of her beautiful baby boy, a shining light of her life, the only legacy left by her late husband. A single tear made its way to her watering eyes, she looked on in pure adoration as the infant slowly quietened down and stared at her with his bright golden eyes that matched his father's, how they glowed like the radiance of the sun. His gaze that held so much depth in them despite being only born mere seconds ago, as if he had lived a full life. The woman shaky smiled grew wider as her joy intensified, a single finger raised to his face as the baby averted his attention to the appendage, seemingly in confusion and comprehension at the same time.

"You are Kiyoshi. Kiyoshi Shichirobei. My little Sunshine," the woman murmured softly at the child who only stared at her in shock.

Four Years Later

"Kiyo, come down and have some breakfast!" Yelled a young and petite woman, her cascading black hair fell to her back as her brown eyes focused on her cooking with a smile graced her face. The sweet aroma of her culinary skills was something Akane Shichirobei good at. Dare might she claim that her arts was unrivalled, at least according to her son. She hummed silently to herself as the frying pan moved and weaved along the rhythm of her deft hands.

The sounds of light footsteps echoed the small house and Akane's smile only grew wider as the sweet voice of her child intoned. "I'm here, ma." The four years old boy walked up to the table and pulled himself a chair before settling nicely on it. The young boy's black hair was a splitting reflection of his father's but with the tone and hue of his mother's. His golden eyes now truly illuminated, like a pair of scintillating gemstones. Kiyoshi was a godsend of a child that any parents could ask for. He was quiet, kind, understanding, respectful and overall far more mature for someone of his age—carrying all the good traits Akane could remember of her husband. In fact, he seemed more mature than some adults she knew. The boy glanced at the table and raised a brow, "mash brown and omelette? In Japan?"

"Shush, this is something you asked remember?" Akane exclaimed as she carried the food unto the table, the hash browns still steaming.

Kiyoshi giggled, "is this what you meant by 'western foods'? I didn't think you'd be serious, do you even know how to make good hash browns?"

"Well, have I ever disappoint?" Akane countered with a grin of her own.

The young child shrugged just as he grabbed his fare, "I suppose not." The boy eat slowly, each bite he took carefully and with consideration, unlike any child Akane ever knew. If she didn't know any better, she would assumed it to be his Quirk—although she supposed it was maybe possible. Perhaps it was an aspect of his Quirk, although it wouldn't made much sense if it was. Akane didn't remember any part of her, or her husband's, family who possessed an intelligent-type Quirk.

"Are you ready for your school, young man?" Akane smiled, sitting beside her son as she just watched him ate.

The boy paused, face scrunched to a mild frown before an exasperated sigh escaped his lips. "Yeah sure..."

"You don't sound ready," the young mother's smile morphed to a teasing smirk. Oh she remembered her own childhood when she too clung to her parents as they dropped her off at preschool full of scary strangers.

Kiyoshi rolled his eyes at that, "I will be surrounded by a bunch of crybabies. I don't think I can survive."

"Oh you'll be fine, Kiyo," Akane chuckled. Normally, it would be an odd sight to see a four years old speak so eloquently with even a hint of sarcasm in his tone. Her gaze then wandered to the clock, "and please quick with your meal. We're moving out at nine."

"Yes, ma."

The journey to the preschool was mostly quiet save for the pop music from the radio. James, or he now referred himself as, Kiyoshi, stared out the window in silence, taking in the view outside. He couldn't believed it had been four years since he'd been dropped into this bizarro world. Oh, he wasn't stupid, the moment he learned how to walk and study the world around him was the moment Kiyoshi understood where he was. This was My Hero Academia, an anime he vaguely remembered the plot of. Kiyoshi didn't know whether he should be elated or terrified when that prospect suddenly made itself known to him.

Oddly enough, he'd assumed relearning how to walk, talk or do any other human activity would be a nightmarish process which would've taken months to achieve. Well, it did took him months, but it wasn't as mind numbing as he'd assumed—mostly because the memory of an infant was generally a series of hazy blurs and confusion. In a mere blink of an eye, he found himself in a body of two years old, as if all those years were nothing more but a spectre of his life. Not that he was complaining of course. By the time he'd learned all he could of his current status was the moment he knew there was something strange about this world. Well, it was obvious with the casual physics-defying abilities his mother had displayed, but the constant reference to 'Quirk', 'Pro Hero', and recently; 'Allmight' was a clear and undeniable proof of the universe he found himself in. Kiyoshi gave a thought about that. If he recalled, this was (maybe) the moment where the verdette protagonist was just starting preschool and making friend with his future bully. Kiyoshi cringed at that thought, disappointed at the fact that even in a completely alien world, discrimination followed him everywhere. It was the subtle way that the world seemed so obsessed with Quirk, from the east to the west—the culture of superheroics were prevalent in almost every corner of the planet. No wonder some people sought out to become villains, it was so easy to see the unlucky few who got crushed under the weight of this skewered system.

Kiyoshi's gaze flickered at the sight of woman in spandex streaking across the sky. A part of him gazed at the sight in wonderment, the geeky part of him who loved the concept of superpowers even with the other part of him who felt the unease of this world's social structure. He'd taken the time to browse the internet where he could, even with the disapproval of his mother, and this problem existed from America, to Europe, to Asia and others. This was especially glaring with the Middle East, it disturbingly reminded him of Worm's interpretation of a superhuman society of that place, a civilization ruled by warlords who fashioned themselves as 'heroes'. This of course also brought another concern to his life, his Quirk—or the lack of one—currently speaking at least. His birthday was two months away and he dreaded to see the result of that, an event which would determined the fate of his life forever, whether he'd be a respected paragon put on a pedestal, a feared monstrosity to be shunned, or a pathetic weakling to be stepped upon and forgotten.

It was an irrational fear and he acknowledged that. From what he could gleaned of his mother and little of his father, there was an improbable chance that his Quirk, if it manifested, would become problematic—or at least any he could see. Though he was curious what Quirk he'd developed, if any at all. Kiyoshi was no fool, he knew if he gotten a Quirk worthy of respect then he'd had to aim for U.A. It was ironically the safest bet despite being at the center of future villain's attention, for it was a predictable path. Any other choice would be something he'd be going blind. Now, he had no doubt that the timeline had been somewhat shifted with his existence, but he'd maintained minimal (or rather, zero) contact with the main cast so that future events would played out as it original did. All to maintain a sense of familiarity.

"We're here, Kiyo. Are you ready?" Akane, his mother turned and gave him her warmest smile. Even when the back of his mind told him that this woman was no mother of his, that his true parents were still in his previous world, mourning of his loss, Kiyoshi couldn't help but feel overjoyed at the warmth of this woman that brought him to this world. She was the best kind of parent any child could ever dream of, comparable to that of Inko Midoriya herself.

Kiyoshi turned to stare at the window, examining the large building—or at least, larger than their house—the bright blue and pale white color a contrast to the lush green of its surrounding. There was a small play area outside with a swing an a see-saw, along with doodles scribbled on the floor and walls. The childish artwork that painted the building seemed so excessive in his eyes. The boy turned to look at the children who were dragged here, some screaming and crying, clutching to their parents in desperation and fear of abandonment.

"I'm more ready than some of them, at least," Kiyoshi said much to his mother's amusement.

"You'll be fine, sweetheart. Now go out there and conquer the world, eh?"

"Hmm, thank you, ma!" He called out as he struggled with the door, pulling the handle before pushing the big door with all his might. With a jubilant hop, the boy closed the door behind him with a satisfying click. He gave an enthusiastic wave to his mother as she smiled and gave him her own. "Bye!"

The boy sighed, slowly turning towards the imposing fortress of bright blue and blinding white. His pose faltered a bit but his resolved renewed with each steps he took. "Okay, I just need to survive preschool again. And then middle school, and then high school..." a tired sigh escaped the boy's lips, the frustration already bubbling inside him. "Plus Ultra, I suppose..."

Preschool wasn't so terrible, although it was horribly mind numbing. He spent his time singing some children's song, learning kanji (at least that was fun) and forced to do some other simple activities with a bunch of other snot nosed brats. The caretakers here always seemed so impressed whenever drawing activity came up, as where most spent this time doodling Allmight, he had drawn several (admittedly badly proportioned) figures, vehicles, robots, environments with skills one would expect from someone years ahead of their peers. Other than that, Kiyoshi didn't make much friends with the other kids, something that no doubt which concerned the caretakers, though he couldn't really be blamed for that. What was there to talk about with other four years old? Now, he knew he was being unreasonable, they were still children and he was technically an adult—although even that aspect of him was slowly withering away—and he did well to help others where he could, so he wasn't exactly a social outcast either, but when it come to actual conversation with his peers, it always fall flat. Kiyoshi couldn't count the amount of times that topic of heroes or villains popped up in a discussion, with most of it entails somewhere along their impressive feats. Now, he had to admit, superheroes were awesome and if he was given the opportunity of a formidable Quirk, he would totally become one, but just talking endlessly about their deed with no deeper meaning behind them tends to get boring real fast. So the four months he spent here was him being mostly alone and acting as pseudo-assistant for the caretakers in taking care of what supposed to be kids his age. Any minor problems anybody had? Took it to Kiyoshi Shichirobei, he certainly knew what to do.

It was also at this moment when the other children had awakened their powers. Now that was a sight to behold. The first to manifest their Quirk was a girl who could conjure a glowing light orb from her hand which she could control its color. It was something even the normally stoic Kiyoshi was fascinated by. The next was a boy who could produced strings from his fingers, what Kiyoshi initially assumed to be spiderweb but apparently was some kind of carbon compound with properties similar to plastic. The third was not that interesting, a Quirk which allowed a boy to change the color, shape and length of his hair—it would made it easy to style his mane, Kiyoshi supposed. Then on it went as one by one, children manifesting supernatural abilities. As time passed however, Kiyoshi grew concerned, his birthday was already a month ago and yet there were no sign of hidden superpower in sight. Where others displayed their marvelous abilities (though calling it that was a bit of a stretch, in Kiyoshi's opinion, as most of them seemed rather inconsequential or inapplicable for hero work—though not to say they were useless in any way, he could at least see how many of them could he used for day to day life) Kiyoshi spent most his time under the tree perfecting his drawing skills now that the caretakers had taken interest of his artwork and even recommended his mother for him to pursue this aspect of his talent, much to the woman's surprised delight.

It was the moment that transpired later that Kiyoshi should really considered his position in his life. When two children approached him, a smirk on both of their faces, he should've known that something was up. This was a classic scene of any shonen anime and he'd scolded himself for such an obvious oversight. He was the quiet one, with no Quirk to speak of and spent most of his free time under the tree where many other tykes used the time interacting with their peers.

"Hey, Shichirobei. What are you doing there?" A boy with spiky blue hair asked, his arms folder over his chest as his gaze wandered over Kiyoshi's sketch book. The boy in question looked up and could see the clear smug expression of his face.

'Oh boy,' Kiyoshi thought silently as he closed his book in preparation. "Oh nothin' just doing a little sketch."

"Why do you always sit down here anyway? Think you're not good enough to play with us?" The boy continued, earning a chuckle from his friend.

Kiyoshi suppressed the urge to roll his eyes at that pathetic excuse of getting a rise out of him. So, he merely shrugged and responded casually, "eh sorry, don't like spending time smelling like wet mud." He smirked at the irritation from the boy, from what Kiyoshi could recall, his Quirk allowed the boy to coat himself in hardened soil like armor. It was rather impressive, Kiyoshi mused to himself, though the boy's attitude left to be desired.

"I don't smell," came the amateurish retort. "You sure talk big, Shichirobei."

"Yeah, cause that's all you can do anyway," the other kid whose name Kiyoshi did not bother to remember. He recalled that boy used to be quite affable to him before he got his Quirk, and one who often asked him with art project. It was annoying how a person could change just from a defining factor in their lives.

"Why are you here exactly?" Kiyoshi kept his voice level and uninterested, keeping the appearance of an indifferent third party to only frutrate his would-be harrasers.

"Oh nothing. I just want to see how a Quirkless loser like you spend most of their time," the earth Quirk boy snickered. "After all you are a rare specimen."

Kiyoshi rolled his eyes, "you do realize I still have a couple of months left until I got my Quirk? You're not afraid I'll kicked your asses then?"

That earned a momentary frown that was replaced with amusement. The other, nameless, kid chimed in. "Hah! Your birthday was a month ago! Everybody in class already have their Quirk but you don't. Who knows, maybe you never will!"

Kiyoshi honestly couldn't tell the purpose of their approach. Was there a meaning to this? Or were they truly this bored and this was the only entertainment they could get? His eyes wandered towards the teachers as they oh so obliviously catered to one corner of the park. Arguing with a bunch of four years old felt kind of pointless so he ended the conversation with another roll of his eyes and a disinterested scoff. "Sure~ if you're afraid that I am going to get a strong Quirk, don't worry, I promised I won't take too much of your spotlight."

The two kids seemed confused with Kiyoshi's wording but the tone of his voice was enough to clue in his mockery. The earthen Quirk user was the first to react, a snarl on his face as clumps of dirt rose and clung to his forearms, palms and fingers. Every steps he took was meant to be intimidating—well, it kinda was, especially with the gathering of dirt and stone coalescing to his arms—but it overall looked amusing for the sole child of the Shichirobei family. The raven haired boy sighed as he slipped the sketch book to his side and rose to his little feet, dusting away dirt from his pants.

"Nobody's afraid of you, Shichi-loser. Stop deluding yourself," the boy said, his arms already coated in thick and hardened dirt, a vicious smirk on his face.

'Shichi-loser?' Kiyoshi bit back a laugh at that. Well, he supposed it went about expected with children of his age. The black haired boy merely stared impassively at the stone-armed boy's reproach, finding comedy at this situation. "Well, what are you going to do now?"

The boy lunged at him with a cocked fist, ready to strike. Kiyoshi merely took a step back, then twist the ball of his feet before grabbing the boy from under his arm and behind his nape before pulling and slamming him down the ground. This was one of the few things Kiyoshi forced himself to learn once he was aware of this world. In the event that whatever Quirk he's got, if he even had any, wouldn't help him in a physical engagement, then he had to improve his combat skill. Now, as a four years old, there was little he could do, but what little options available were more than enough for this specific situation.

The flipped boy blinked in surprise, uncomprehending of his sudden defeat before rage entered his mind. "Wh- how dare you!"

"Oh please-" Kiyoshi did not get to finish that when the stone-armed boy jumped to his feet and suddenly kicked him. The black haired child's eyes widened when he noticed his legs were also coated in dirt, admonishing himself for overlooking such fact before he felt himself slightly lifted to the air followed after with a heavy slam against the tree. Thank goodness his opponent was a weak child, or that would've been dangerous. Now, ever since the dawn of Quirks, the human body had steadily become more durable over time, and even those without physical-based Quirk could survive what athletes hundreds years ago couldn't, but that didn't mean they were invulnerable. Kiyoshi grunted, relieved that it wasn't as painful as he'd expected. The earth-based Quirk boy launched again, as Kiyoshi quickly weaved around his attacks, or at least as quickly as his tiny body allowed. From an outside perspective, it would seem like two blind geess clumsily trying to one up each other in a chaotic fistfight.

"Stay still Shichi-loser!" Screamed the boy. Meanwhile his friend stood there, unsure how to approach. "Argh, damnit you weakling, stop avoiding me!"

Kiyoshi merely avoided or parried most of the attacks, the former easier than the latter. It wasn't that difficult to do so, seeing that his opponent was rather inexperienced in a true fight, but it was still a challenge in its own way seeing that he was still unused to his current physical condition. His movements felt sluggish, every steps he took required great effort and stamina. Kiyoshi was losing and he knew it, his opponent's Quirk came with a secondary aspect involving greater endurance, so when it came to a battle of attrition, Kiyoshi was well aware that he's at a disadvantage. Thus it came to surprise when one stone-clad fist landed squarely to his side, though what was a surprise was the odd buzzing inside him that he's sure wasn't entirely from pain. When his back slammed against the tree again, this time harsher than the last and the other boy's cry of victory rang, Kiyoshi internally frowned at that odd buzzing feeling. There was a strange phantom sensation which his mind suddenly became innately aware of, like remembering an extra limb which he hadn't used for a very long time. The dark haired boy pulled on that sensation, feeling as it slowly becoming clearer as the world shifted around him.

The stoje-armed boy stepped forward, emboldened by his victory and ignorant of the changing situation, especially made obvious by the small spark twirling between Kiyoshi's fingers. His other friend however was not as blind and his eyes widened at the sight of electrical tendrils suddenly appearing between the two of them. When the earthen Quirk boy ran forward, he was predictably blindsided by the sudden appearance of a miniature moon that slammed unto his face and pushed him quite far away before was forced to roll on the ground. For a moment, all three children stared at the floating mini moon as it levitated serenely. Its lustrous white surface showing immaculate details of craters, mountains and valleys, reflecting the sunlight in an ethereal white glow. That moment of wonder broke as the moon suddenly crumbled to dust, evaporating to mist, leaving not even particulates behind.

Silence dominated that corner of the park. Kiyoshi, ever one to impart his opinion, was the first to break the awkward tension, "huh, as far as Quirk goes, I think I've seen weirder."

Kiyoshi whistled as he casually strolled the crowded street with vehicles blurred by the road and people all seemed so busy in their own little world. It had been ten years since he last awakened his Quirk, and boy was he not disappointed by it. All of those time spent worrying turned out to be unfounded for the sheer versatility, utility and potential of his superpower was incredible. The young teenager, now standing over 5'6" tall with a slender but toned frame hidden underneath his school uniform, casually made his way towards his school. He had spent most of his childhood perfecting both Quirk and body, knowing full well of the goal he'd set in his mind. Kiyoshi didn't know who he should thank for this opportunity. Was it the nebulous, unknowable, power that brought him here? God? Fate? That last notion made him paused slightly. Yeah right, fate. His very existence upon this world was a sign that this was no mere random chance that just happened to him. Perhaps he was just delusional, believing there to be a higher power responsible for his circumstances when there's none, but he held onto that belief nonetheless. After all, there must be something at work for him to be here in the first place.

"Oi, Shichi, what are thinkin' about there?" A voice called out before Kiyoshi felt an arm wrapped around his shoulder and a weight to his side. The golden-eyed boy grumbled as the person in question jumped to his side, the teen was the same age as him, blue hair and green eyes with a perpetual smirk on his face. He stood a bit taller than Kiyoshi with much larger built and thicker arms. "The hell you're doing here anyway? I thought you're called for the school sports championship?"

"Not interested," Kiyoshi answered easily. Whilst he wasn't exactly the top of the class in term of physical prowess, that title went to most mutant-types anyway, he was still pretty fit—although it didn't mean much when he was pretty much clueless in term of sports, even when he'd won most games in football. Not that it wasn't fun perse, but he was more fond of drawing and reading anyway. Even in this new life and new reputation, Kiyoshi was still a nerd at heart. The ravenette then turned and quirked his eyebrow, "now why are you not joining the team?"

The other boy chuckled, "I've won last year anyway so I don't see the point."

"Oh hey, Shichirobei, Hashimoto. Good seeing you both here," another teen joined in the fray. He was a brown-haired, round nosed, red-eyed person with a tall yet thin stature. A cigarette in hand as he walked towards them both. The same kid Kiyoshi encountered all those times ago.

The now named Hashimoto grinned, "Izo, you bastard your dad ain't going to get mad at you smoking that?"

The other boy, Izo, scoffed. "Don't remind me, that old fart is a hypocrite."

Honestly, Kiyoshi felt uncomfortable with these two. Once he'd proven himself someone worthy of respect, their outlook of him immediately shifted. At first, he was glad that there was no hostility between them, but the fact remains that these guys weren't the role model of good samaritan still made it hard to consider them anything more than acquaintances. While he was no longer the subject of their harassment, it didn't mean others were free of their torment, especially those whose Quirks considered insignificant in their eyes. Of course, these two had learned not to pull anything stupid, especially when Kiyoshi's around, he'd made it clear how he viewed bullying of any kind, not that it stopped the roots of the problem. The golden-eyed boy knew these types, he'd met the kind in his past life, a bunch of stuck ups who leeched from the powerful to gain recognition in the social hierarchy. It was the kind of mentality he was used to seeing in schools, colleges and even workplaces. The kind you'd see clinging to the biggest, meanest, powerhouse to be a part of their social clique.

It made it all the more bizarre that Kiyoshi was one of those "powerhouse" in the school, something he'd never experienced in his past life, nor he ever thought to experience. Frankly, he felt uncomfortable with it. He didn't exactly dislike the positive reception, but he also hated the undivided attention to his every little actions—though, now that his path to be a hero became viable, he supposed he had to deal with that at some point. If only he hadn't have to deal with teenage drama. Turned out being "popular" was a stress of its own, especially when gossips about one's social circle keep circulating the school. He'd once offered a help to a captain of the cheerleader team and there was already wild theories about his relationship with her, despite the fact that the girl was already in a relationship, thankfully her partner was a bit more reasonable than your standard adolescent.

Kiyoshi brought his mind back to his Quirk, one that made his popularity possible in the first place. It made him uncomfortable at how his situation paralleled Bakugo in some way, although he'd made sure not to act like that asshole. The sheer leeway one could get away with a powerful Quirk was honestly disconcerting, it was easy to see how people like Bakugo could act the way he did if this was the treatment one received with a good Quirk. All he remembered in his current life was the constant praise of his power; the respect, envy and awe of his peers. Truth be told, Kiyoshi felt kind of irritated at the school staffs for encouraging such mindset. He wondered how he'd be treated if he hasn't gotten this Quirk? The memory of a particular verdette brought an internal shudder from which that incurred a sense of distaste in his heart. As his two "cronies" went on and talked about inane topics, a dormant memory resurfaced, detailing the incident of his Quirk manifestation.

Ten Years Ago

Akame was elated when she heard her son awakened his Quirk but also worried sick when she heard he had gotten into a fight. Thankfully nobody was truly hurt and the perpetrator of the conflict had been punished. She knew that her little Sunshine wouldn't start something like that. He was too smart for that sort of immaturity. When she brought him to the hospital for Quirk Registration, she could only smile at the excitement radiating from Kiyoshi. It was moments like this that reminded her that he was still a young child full of life ahead of him.

"Hmm, this is interesting," the doctor, a man with pure onyx eyes and alabaster white skin murmured, studying the X-rays, blood samples and MRI scans. Back in her days Quirk could only be identified via X-ray scan of the pinky toe, and apparently that method had been an outdated practice. From the way Kiyoshi reacted at that tidbits of information must be news for him too, the boy had questioned several times regarding the nature of the test and seemed surprised when the doctor explained that to him.

Akame leaned forward, "what's interesting?"

"Your son's Quirk is quite peculiar. Now, what did you say your Quirk was Shichirobei-san?" The doctor inquired.

Akame raised her hand and a faint violet aura appeared before light seemingly bent around her hand. The woman waved her fingers, "I can generate a powerful but small radius of gravitational wave, which I can lift, pull, push, warp or even crush objects with."

The doctor's brow raised at that, seemingly impressed. "That's incredible."

"Too bad the radius is quite small though, my power only extend up to fifteen inches from my hands and I can't lift anything heavier than my body mass."

The doctor nodded. "That is still impressive, if used correctly you could perhaps be a hero."

Akame scoffed at the idea but the smile on her face made it clear that she wasn't totally opposed of the idea. "I may got the Quirk for it, but not the resolve. Tried to apply for U.A. if you can believe it, but unfortunately I'm not cut to be for the Practical Exam. Not that I regret it of course, being in the General Education still has its benefits."

"You graduated at U.A?" The doctor paused before he shook his head. "Well then, can you explain your husband's Quirk?"

At that Akame paused for a fraction of a second, her eyes appeared distant before the smile fell to a reminiscent remembrance. "Ah, now my husband, he is- was a Hero, well a Sidekick to be precise. He's not that well known but I'd say that he's fit for the job. Hanzo can create a swarm of tiny lights and launch them like missiles."

"I see... hmmm, this still doesn't explain it. Say, does any of your parents or your husband's parents have any particular Quirk I should know of?"

Akame titled her head at the question. "Why, I thought a child supposed to only get their Quirks from either or both of their parents right?"

"That's a common misconceptions, Miss Shichirobei. While it is true that most Quirk is an expression of their parents' Quirks, either a combination of both or a direct inheritance of one, Quirks in nature are genetic, and like anything gene-related, the dormant traits from one's ancestors can be reawakened—this is why there are some who have Quirks that seemed nothing like their parents but instead either a reactivation of a long forgotten Quirk or a combination of ancient and recent Quirk to generate a newer variant. I believe your son here has the combination of both you, your husband's as well as his grandparents' Quirks."

Akame paused at that, her eyes darted to the focused Kiyoshi. "Really? Actually, what is his Quirk, doctor?"

"Well, to put it simply, he can create miniature variation of celestial bodies. Stars, planets, nebulae, asteroids... you name it," the doctor explained. "All these celestial constructs in turn possesses the properties equivalent of their larger counterpart; the stars produced heat and radiation, the planets generate its own magnetic and gravitational field, asteroids can be launched at hypersonic speed, and... well you can take a guess what others could do."

"Any celestial body?" Kiyoshi suddenly made himself known, his eyes sparkling in wonder. "Like anything?"

"Pretty much, yes," the doctor nodded.

"-talk to this one girl on the next class. Y'know, the tall one? With black hair tied to a ponytail?" Hashimoto boasted about something that Kiyoshi had entirely ignored. The dark haired teen drew his attention back to the two morons as they began talking about girls. Oh hormones, how he hated them.

"Shizuka? You got to be kidding man!" Izo grinned like a loon, his cigar now a mere stump before he flicked it away. "She didn't kick you away? Man, when I tried to make a move on that feisty girl, she literally slammed me out the door! Her Air Burst Quirk is a no joke!"

"Heh, that's why you gotta be all gentlemanly like. It's what the ladies want, right Shichi buddy?" Hashimoto expressed, giving his overly familiar, friendly, tone. Kiyoshi internally rolled his eyes at that.

"Sure thing, Hashimoto-san," he responded cordially and the boy had taken that as a sign of approval from a "popular kid", boosting his confidence even further. Kiyoshi wasn't even sure why that boy even ought to ask him about that, it's not like he had any real experience with women in any way—well in this life, at least. All the girls he'd conversed in this school were mostly interested with study work, though it was odd that so many had offered him to study in their house. Kiyoshi's musing was brought short, however, when a loud commotion suddenly dragged his, and the two cronies' attention.

The sight was one of spectacle, although it was nothing entirely new to him, having lived in a world of superpowers for fourteen years already and in a city of highly populated residents, conflict like this was bound to happen. However, that wasn't what drew surprise from Kiyoshi, it was the familiarity of the battle that made him glued on the spot.

"Woah, that guy's huge," Hashimoto voiced his opinion. The boy with the soil-based Quirk watched as three individuals now in air, one equipped with a jetpack, another who clung to a while and the nearest from the villain whose appearance mostly clouded behind a thick dust. The villain in question stood a couple hundred feet tall, with a shark-like facial structure and wild dreadlocks that danced in the air. His massive hand held onto the commute, fingers cracking through concrete.

The nearest hero, whose silhouette was barely visible from here, but from the excited exclamation of the crowd revealed him to be Kamui Wood. While Hashimoto and Izo seemed thrilled at the sight, Kiyoshi was silent. His gaze instead wandered the crowd in search of a particular green mop. It was a futile attempt anyway, in the vast ocean of colors, especially those with peculiar head shapes, seeing one green blob was an impossibility. The scene stretched until a massive woman just about the villain's size arrived and performed a flying kick to his head. Clad in a skintight suit with a mask that extended to a pair of horns, the hero turned to face the crowd and displayed a pose meant to accentuate her figure.

"Hi, this is my first debut! The name's Mount Lady, nice meeting ya!" She exclaimed, grabbing the villain by his wrist with the other hand raised for a victory sign.

So, it had began.

Name: Kiyoshi Shichirobei

Quirk: Cosmology

Type: Emitter

Description: A Quirk that allows one to create miniature astronomical bodies which size and mass are entirely determined by the user. This Quirk can generate stars, planets, asteroids, nebulae, and even galaxies, along with other exotic cosmological structures, each carrying basic aspects that defined their larger counterparts. These miniature structures can only manifest within either the user's sight or general spatial awareness. Additionally, one can also control the gravitational field, atmospheric content, physical framework, density, magnetosphere, material composition and various traits of these manifestations, however highly drastic reconfigurations demands a greater energy and focus.