My Hero Academia: Heavenly Restriction

I opened the door, stepping into the unfamiliar hallway. The scent of miso soup and grilled fish wafted up, making my stomach growl. Izuku's memories flickered through my mind - Mom always makes a big breakfast on Sundays - mixing with my own recollections of sparse meals between training sessions.

I made my way downstairs, each step feeling simultaneously familiar and foreign. The house was small but cozy, filled with the kind of warmth I'd only seen in other people's homes. Photos lined the walls - Izuku and his mother at various ages, always smiling. No battle trophies or clan emblems here.

Inko Midoriya stood at the stove, her back to me as she hummed a quiet tune. She was shorter than I expected, with the same green hair as Izuku, pulled back in a simple ponytail. When she turned, her face lit up with a smile that made my chest ache in a way I couldn't quite explain.

"Good morning, sweetie!" she said, setting a plate of food on the table. "Did you sleep well?"

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak just yet. My own mother had died when I was young - I barely remembered her face. But Inko's presence filled the room with a palpable sense of love and care that I'd never experienced before.

I sat down at the table, staring at the spread before me. In my world, meals were fuel, nothing more. But this... this was something else entirely. The care put into each dish was evident, from the perfectly grilled fish to the precisely cut fruit.

"Is everything okay, Izuku?" Inko asked, her brow furrowing in concern. "You're awfully quiet this morning."

I cleared my throat, forcing myself to meet her gaze. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... thinking."

She sat down across from me, her eyes - so much like Izuku's - studying my face. "What about?"

I took a deep breath, steeling myself. "Mom, can I ask you something?"

She nodded, reaching out to pat my hand. The casual affection nearly made me flinch. "Of course, sweetie. You can ask me anything."

"You know what I want to be, right? A hero?" The words felt strange in my mouth, but Izuku's memories supplied the context. "I want your honest opinion. Do you... do you think I can do it?"

Inko's eyes widened, a flicker of pain crossing her face before she composed herself. She was silent for a long moment, her fingers idly tracing patterns on the tablecloth. When she spoke, her voice was soft but steady.

"Izuku, I..." she paused, taking a deep breath. "I want you to be happy. More than anything in the world. And I know how much being a hero means to you. But... I worry. You're Quirkless, and the world can be so cruel. I don't want to see you hurt."

I nodded, processing her words. It wasn't the answer I - Izuku - had hoped for, but I could respect her honesty. "But do you think I can do it? If I work hard enough?"

Inko's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Oh, Izuku. If anyone could find a way, it would be you. I just... I wish it wasn't so dangerous."

I reached out, awkwardly patting her hand. Physical comfort wasn't my strong suit, but it felt right. "I understand. And... thank you. For being honest."

She smiled, wiping her eyes. "I'll always support you, Izuku. No matter what path you choose. I just want you to be careful, okay?"

I nodded, turning my attention to the food before it got cold. As I ate, I mulled over our conversation. Inko clearly loved Izuku deeply, but her fear for his safety was holding them both back. If I was going to make this work - if I was going to turn Izuku's dream into a reality - I'd need to prove to her that I could handle myself.

"Hey, Mom?" I said between bites. "I was thinking about starting a new training regimen. You know, to get in better shape."

Inko looked up, surprise evident on her face. "Oh? That's... that's good, Izuku. Just don't push yourself too hard, okay?"

I nodded, already planning out a schedule in my head. Basic strength training to start, then moving on to more advanced techniques. I'd need to find a place to practice without drawing attention. Maybe that beach Izuku's memories supplied - the one covered in trash. It'd be perfect.

"Don't worry," I said, offering what I hoped was a reassuring smile. "I'll be careful."

After breakfast, I retreated to Izuku's room, ostensibly to study.

I closed the door to Izuku's room behind me and paused. The morning light streamed through the window, illuminating what could only be described as a shrine to All Might. Posters plastered every available wall space - action shots, promotional images, even rare vintage prints. Figurines lined multiple shelves, arranged in chronological order from All Might's early career to his current costume. 

"Well, shit." The words slipped out before I could stop them. 

I walked over to the desk, running my fingers over a limited edition Silver Age figure still in its original packaging. The level of preservation was impressive - clearly Izuku took his collection seriously. A notebook lay open beside it, pages filled with detailed analysis of hero quirks and fighting techniques. The handwriting was neat but dense, cramped together as if trying to fit as much information as possible onto each page.

"Hero Analysis for the Future - Volume 13," I read aloud, picking up the notebook. Flipping through the pages revealed intricate diagrams, combat scenarios, and theoretical applications of various quirks. This wasn't just fanboy obsession - this was serious research.

More notebooks filled a shelf above the desk, each labeled and numbered. I pulled out Volume 1, noting the childish handwriting and simple drawings. By Volume 13, the analysis had become sophisticated enough to rival some of the tactical manuals I'd studied in my own world.

Smart kid, I thought, settling into the desk chair. Analyzing quirks, documenting weaknesses... he's been preparing for this his whole life.

The walls told their own story. Newspaper clippings and magazine articles chronicled All Might's career, arranged in rough chronological order. Some showed signs of frequent handling - corners worn smooth, tape yellowed with age. Others were pristine, protected behind clear plastic sleeves.

"Mom must have helped with these," I muttered, noting the careful preservation of the older items. The thought sparked another memory - Inko carefully mounting a new poster while a young Izuku bounced with excitement.

My eyes landed on a framed photo on the nightstand. A much younger Izuku grinned at the camera, wearing an All Might costume that was clearly homemade. Inko knelt beside him, her smile matching his in intensity. They looked... happy. Unburdened.

I picked up the photo, studying the child's face. No sign of the pain and disillusionment that would come later, when he learned he was Quirkless. Just pure, unrestrained joy.

"You really believe in him, don't you?" I asked the smiling boy in the photo. "All Might. Heroes. All of it."

I set the photo back on the nightstand, my eyes scanning the room one last time. The collection spoke of dedication - obsession - but also of hope. Something I hadn't felt in a long time.

"Right." I stood up, cracking my neck. "Time to get started."

I dug through Izuku's closet, pushing aside a disturbing number of All Might hoodies before finding what I needed - black sweatpants and a well-worn All Might t-shirt. The shirt was faded, the iconic smile slightly cracked from repeated washing. It'd do.

After changing, I grabbed Izuku's phone from the desk. The passcode came naturally - All Might's debut date. Of course. I opened the camera app, propping the phone against a stack of notebooks.

"Day one of becoming the world's first Quirkless hero," I said to the camera, channeling some of Izuku's earnest energy. "Starting point documentation."

I stepped back, letting the camera capture my full frame. Izuku's body was... underwhelming. Skinny arms, no muscle definition, the kind of build that screamed 'easy target' in my world. That would change.

A laugh bubbled up - Izuku's laugh, I realized. Not quite maniacal, but definitely scheming. The kind of laugh that said I know something you don't. "Future footage for my documentary. Can't you see the headlines? 'From Zero to Hero: The Quirkless Wonder's Journey.'"

I stopped the recording, checking the playback. Perfect. Just the right mix of determination and slight madness. Future audiences would eat it up.

The run to Takoba Municipal Beach Park tested every ounce of my patience. Izuku's body protested each step, lungs burning after the first kilometer. By the time the coastline came into view, I was drenched in sweat and questioning my life choices.

"Jesus... fucking... Christ," I gasped, hands on my knees as I surveyed the beach. Or what should have been a beach. The sand vanished under mountains of trash - old appliances, furniture, scrap metal, all piled haphazardly as far as the eye could see.

I pulled out the phone again, this time recording the wasteland before me. "Perfect training ground. Plenty of heavy objects for strength training, isolated location..." I panned across the debris field. "And cleaning this up would make for great PR. The hero who restored Takoba Beach."

My legs still shook from the run, but I forced myself to stand straight. "Day one objectives: assess the terrain, establish baseline strength levels, and mark out a training area."

I stopped recording and tucked the phone away. Time to see what this body could do. I approached the nearest pile, eyeing a rusted refrigerator. In my original body, I could've lifted it one-handed. Here...

I planted my feet and gripped the sides. Proper form, I reminded myself. Back straight, lift with the legs. I strained upward.

The fridge didn't budge.

"Well," I muttered, wiping sweat from my brow. "Shit."