The story of a hero in my hero academia

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3 years later...

"Come on come on—yes!"

Finally.

I've finally reached the point where I can sustain 40% lightning chakra around my body... for ten whole minutes.

Thud.

"Ah... ah..."

I dropped to the ground, panting.

These last three years have been hellish—and I mean that, even by my own standards.

Every time I pushed a little beyond my body's limit with lightning chakra, I ended up injured. Sometimes even internally. But I kept going. I kept struggling.

The result?

In these ten minutes, I am very dangerous.

With a well-placed sneak attack, I could injure a handful of heroes.

Even if I let my body grow naturally over time, without training, I'd still end up stronger than a lot of them.

But why stop now, when I know I can go even further?

You're probably wondering where I train with such a dangerous technique.

Fun fact: in the same old park.

Ever since that incident I caused, fewer and fewer people come here.

So I came back.

It's quiet. It's perfect.

As I stood up, I looked down at my shirtless body and smirked.

Damn, I've grown well.

I'm 165 cm (5'5") at 12 years old—imagine when I'm fully grown.

My body is well-developed, with visible muscle definition—not bulky, not skinny. Just balanced. Honestly, I've trained the perfect body.

And my looks?

Well, my mother was right. She used to tell me when I was little:

"You're going to break hearts one day."

She wasn't wrong.

Good looks come with perks—and anyone who says otherwise probably never had them.

Hey, don't look at me like that! I was ugly in my previous life. This is the first time for me, too.

Guess I got lucky—my mom's genes and early chakra circulation really did the trick.

"Still here training?"

Shinso's monotone voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

In the past years, Shinso changed a lot. He started hanging out with me less, and he's been looking more... disillusioned with life?

I don't really get how a 12-year-old can already be disillusioned, but hey—kids these days have it too easy.

He should try living one day in my old life—then he'd understand what "hard" really means.

Ugh, I'm talking like an old man again. I don't know where I picked that up.

"Yes like always. And you don't look like you're in great shape" I replied with an amused tone.

"Yeah yeah, you training maniac. I'm not running 10 km (6 mi) a day" he muttered while sitting on a nearby rock.

"Well, my friend" I said in a mock-motivational tone "if you want to reach a goal, you've got to make sacrifices."

"Would running really help me become a hero? No. I need a strong quirk—something actually useful" Shinso snapped, clearly frustrated.

Ahh. So that's the issue.

His quirk.

How childish to let others decide whether your power is "useful" or not.

"So did you come here to complain or is there another reason?" I asked, slightly annoyed.

"Yeah. The guys from class asked me to invite you to a dinner for tomorrow's regional tournament."

Ah. A carrier pigeon.

Makes sense.

I don't really have a good relationship with my classmates. It's not that I dislike them—I just don't put effort into connecting. In three years, I probably won't even remember their names.

Also, I don't even have a phone. My parents are kind of old-fashioned.

And honestly? I respect that.

Just one look at the kids in my old world and you'd understand why.

"Nah, I'm too tired to go" I replied.

"Obviously"

Shinso snorted and started walking away.

"Hey, not even a 'bye'?" I called out with a smug grin.

Now that I think about it...

I've never won a regional title with the kendo team.

Not my fault—I always win my matches. It's just that my team is too weak. And kendo is a sport where team wins matter more than individual victories.

Actually...

I've never even lost a match in my short career.

They even invited me to join the national U-12 team, but I didn't care enough to go.

I don't want to be a kendoka. I just want to polish my swordsmanship.

Well, either way, I'm looking forward to tomorrow.

Maybe... just maybe...

there will be a challenge.