In a middle school classroom packed full of students, one in particular was gazing aloofly out of the sunny window beside him, as he daydreamed of any other place he would rather be at than school.
The teacher was a young woman with glasses who looked no older than twenty-six, reading Japanese literature from a green book. As she took a pause to momentarily glance up as to make sure the class was following along with her, her eyes quickly landed on the unaware boy with heterochromia in the back of the class.
Rubbing the temples on her forehead, a very loud and stressful sigh escaped out of her mouth.
"Shoto! We just had this exact conversation of you paying attention in class not even a full five-minutes ago!" The teacher shouted.
Looking at his visibly frustrated teacher out of the corner of his eye, the inattentive boy moved his head back to face forward in his desk, and tactfully responded with an exceedingly un-amused expression.
"My apologies Mrs. Nara, but this book is just so impossibly boring that I simply cannot bring myself to pay attention."
Shoto's words in the classroom did not seem to cause a disturbance however, as the rest of the kids continued to read their books as if this was an everyday occurrence - which it was.
Hearing her student's disrespectful comment paired with his stultified tone, she didn't bother to argue with him anymore. For even with his lack of attention he still maintained almost perfect grades. And though this infuriated her, she wasn't going to let one student jeopardize the learning environment of her others.
The teacher then opened the book back up as she called upon one of the students to began where she had left off. As the girl she called on read though, Shoto could just barely hear her whispering "Insolent little brat..." along with more colorful words.
But he just swiftly turned his full attention back to his previous stupor, and let out a small groan.
Shoto didn't mean to be disrespectful, nor did he truly wish to appear so bored. The truth was far more complicated than Mrs. Nara could ever truly comprehend.
For this had marked his second time trudging through the Eighth grade in middle school—not because he'd failed, but because he was a reincarnator, someone not originally from this world.
Well, that wasn't entirely accurate either. He was from Earth, but just not this Earth.
His gaze drifted back to the window, where he watched a bird fly past. Even now, years into this second life, the sight unsettled him in ways he couldn't articulate. The bird looked flat, like a carefully drawn animation cel brought to life.
So did the trees beyond, the clouds, the buildings across the street, and every single person in this classroom. Everything existed in this impossible space where it appeared two-dimensional yet somehow retained actual depth and substance when he touched it.
He'd had his entire second life to adjust to this fact—thirteen years now—and yet he just couldn't. His mind refused to fully accept it.
Shoto closed his eyes, allowing himself to slip back into memories of his old life. He'd been nineteen, a university student majoring in comics and children's animation. The irony of that wasn't lost on him now. He could still remember that final evening with perfect clarity; Sprawled on his worn couch in his cramped apartment, watching Season 3 of Fire Force on his secondhand television, sat beside him was a bowl of instant ramen growing cold on the coffee table.
Then, without warning, the television had inexplicably exploded.
The memory of that moment remained seared into his consciousness—not just the sight of the screen erupting in sparks and flame, but the feeling of it. Fire had spread with impossible speed, consuming his apartment, his belongings, and finally himself. The pain had been overwhelming, indescribable, every single inch of his body screaming as flames consumed his flesh.
Yet beneath that agony, there had been something else: a sensation of movement, of traveling at incomprehensible speeds through some vast space. And then, abruptly, everything changed. Instead of dying, he was being pushed—squeezed through something tight and warm—until he emerged into blinding light, his first cry escaping not from his nineteen-year-old throat, but from the tiny lungs of a newborn baby.
He'd been reborn into this strange, flat world, and he'd been dealing with this inescapable fact ever since. But his reincarnation did come with perks however, for in this new life, he was seemingly reborn as Shoto Todoroki from My Hero Academia. The same body, somehow the same scar, and even the same powers too.
But of course, the downside to this was that he had been reincarnated into the very show he'd been watching, because the girl who was currently reading a few seats ahead of him, was none other than Inca Kasugatani, the Fifth Pillar, and psycho crazy girl way past borderline insane who is obsessed with Death and Shinra!
'Though this is quite a while before any of that actually happens.'
Shoto's focus then shifted to Inca as he listened to her read. Without knowing the future, one would think she is the sweetest little girl in the world just based on appearances and her voice alone. But even now, the insanity deep inside of her mind was brewing and just waiting for the right catalyst to make it overflow.
After staring intently at the pink-haired girl's back for a few minutes, Shoto rolled his eyes and took a glance towards the clock on the wall, noting that class was going by much slower than usual.
Thinking of a way to pass the time, he soon decided on sleeping and pressed his arms onto his desk and sat his head down on them while closing his eyes.
Up in the front, Inca was still gleefully reading as she was one of the only students in the class who were still paying attention at this point.
"And according to the weatherman's report, the Great Storm had been predicted to affect the entire state. Gaining the monicker 'Susanoo'. This caused -"
Suddenly, Inca's head quickly lifted from her book and she instantly closed her eyes and started sniffing around the classroom. After turning her head every direction, she finally stopped as her nose pointed to the teacher in front of her.
Immediately standing up, the only thing she said was: "Please excuse me" before slightly bowing and dashing out of the class.
The teacher, mildly confused, was left frozen for a second before shaking her head and calling after her. "Inca! Inca! Young Lady you do not just run out of the classroom without permission! This-"
Mrs. Nara froze mid-sentence, her mouth agape and eyes widened to an unnatural degree. Her entire body had gone rigid, as if someone had pressed pause on her entire existence.
All the students looked up from their books with weird expressions, confused murmurs rippling through the classroom. A boy with spiky black hair near the front leaned forward in his seat, concern creasing his features.
"Mrs. Nara, are you—"
Shoto's head had snapped up the instant Inca bolted from the room. His heterochromatic eyes—one gray, one turquoise—locked onto the teacher's frozen form, and in that split second, he understood.
"Shit."
He exploded up from his seat, his chair clattering backward as he sprinted down the aisle between desks.
"GET DOWN!"
His voice carried the weight of absolute authority, with the volume of a loudspeaker.
Not even a second later, Mrs. Nara's body erupted into full iginition.
Massive flames burst from every inch of her skin, a roaring inferno that consumed her human form in an instant. The explosion expanded outward in a dome of scorching heat and destruction, windows shattering, desks nearest to her igniting like kindling. The shockwave alone should have killed everyone in the front three rows.
It Should have.
Shoto exhaled, his breath visible as frost crystallized in the air before him. His right hand swept forward in a wide arc, and the temperature plummeted so rapidly that moisture in the air condensed into glittering ice crystals.
A wall of solid ice erupted from the floor, ceiling, and walls, encasing the entire front section of the classroom in a crystalline prison. The flames crashed against the frozen barrier, steam hissing where fire met ice, but the inferno couldn't advance even a single centimeter. The ice held, thick and unbreakable, trapping the burning mass of what used to be Mrs. Nara behind its translucent surface.
Silence fell over the classroom, broken only by the crackle of dying flames and the harsh breathing of terrified students.
Every eye turned to Shoto.
He stood in the aisle, right hand still extended, frost crawling up his arm and crystallizing in his white hair. His expression remained carefully neutral, though internally he was cursing every deity he could think of from both his old world and this one.
"Is everyone okay?" His voice cut through the shocked quiet.
Heads nodded mechanically. A few students were crying, others were too stunned to even process what had just happened.
Shoto rolled his eyes and let his hand drop. "This is such a drag."
"H-How did you do that?!"
The question came from Takeshi, a heavyset boy with a buzzcut who sat near the middle of the class. He was staring at Shoto with wide, disbelieving eyes. "You made ice! Ice instead of fire! How is that even possible? That's not how pyrokinesis works!"
Of course someone would notice that. Because nothing could ever be that simple.
Shoto turned his head slightly, speaking out of the side of his mouth with practiced nonchalance. "I used heat to freeze my surroundings instead of starting a fire. The principle is the same, just inverted."
The explanation was complete nonsense—but this was a world where people spontaneously combusted and turned into flame demons. Logic had clearly taken a vacation.
"Ohhhhh!"
The entire class chorused their understanding, eyes sparkling with wonder and admiration. To them, in a world where ignition abilities defied conventional science, the absurd explanation made perfect sense.
Before even a moment of relief could be taken however, something else happened.
"The ice is cracking!"
Mirai's scream snapped everyone's attention back to the frozen barrier. She was a petite girl with long black hair pulled into a ponytail, and she was pointing with a trembling hand at the spider-web fractures spreading across the ice's surface.
Shoto spun around, his right hand already rising to reinforce the barrier—
A slender hand, wreathed in flames and ending in blackened, claw-like fingers, punched through the ice.
The hand clamped around Shoto's face before his body could even react.
Then the world exploded.
The blast of superheated air and raw kinetic force launched Shoto backward like a ragdoll. He crashed through the classroom windows in a shower of glass, his body tumbling thirty meters through empty air before slamming into the courtyard below with bone-jarring impact.
Pain radiated through his ribs. He rolled onto his hands and knees, coughing, tasting liquid copper inside of his mouth.
Back in the classroom, the ice shattered completely.
What emerged was no longer Mrs. Nara.
The Infernal stood seven feet tall, its body a horrifying fusion of charred flesh and living flame. The teacher's face was still partially recognizable—her glasses had melted into her skull, creating grotesque streams of fused metal and bone. Her mouth had split open far wider than any human jaw should allow, revealing rows of flame-wreathed teeth. Her arms had elongated, the fingers stretched into blade-like talons that dripped molten material onto the floor, which hissed and bubbled where it landed. Flames wreathed her entire form, not the controlled fire of a pyrokinetic, but the wild, consuming inferno of a creature that existed only to burn.
The Infernal's head swiveled, hollow eye sockets fixed on the screaming students.
"EVERYONE RUN!" Takeshi roared, but his feet were rooted to the spot by primal terror.
Two students—Ryota, a lean boy with red hair, and Kenji, who had sharp features and wore the school's track uniform—stepped forward instead. Both held their hands out, flames sparking to life in their palms.
"We can help!" Ryota shouted. "We have Third Generation abilities!"
"We can fight!" Kenji added, though his voice wavered.
The Infernal's head tilted at an unnatural angle, regarding them with something that might have been curiosity in a creature capable of thought.
Then it moved.
The speed it possessed was absolutely impossible for something so large. One moment it stood among the ruined desks, the next it was before Ryota, its clawed hand sweeping in a horizontal arc.
Ryota threw up a wall of flame, pouring everything he had into the defense.
The Infernal's hand passed through his fire as if it were paper, the talons raking across Ryota's chest. He screamed, blood spraying as he was flung sideways into the wall hard enough to crack the plaster.
"RYOTA!" Kenji thrust both hands forward, unleashing a torrent of compressed flame in the form of a magnitude of small bullets—a technique that should have melted steel.
But the Infernal simply walked through it.
Its backhand caught Kenji across the face, the impact accompanied by the sickening crack of breaking bone. Kenji's body spun through the air before collapsing in a heap, unmoving.
The classroom descended into chaos. Students scrambled over desks, trampling each other in their desperation to reach the door. Some were crying, others were screaming for help, all of them were convinced they were about to die.
Mirai had her phone out, her hands shaking so badly she could barely hold it.
"P-Police! We need the Special Fire Force! There's an Infernal at Sekibutsu Middle School! It's killing everyone! Please, please hurry—"
The Infernal's burning gaze locked onto her.
It began walking forward, each step deliberate, savoring her terror. Desks crumpled and ignited beneath its feet. The heat radiating from its body was intense enough that Mirai's skin reddened, her hair beginning to singe.
She dropped the phone, scrambling backward on the ground, her back hitting the rear wall. Nowhere left to run.
"N-No... no, please..."
The Infernal loomed over her, raising one clawed hand. Flames gathered around its talons, coalescing into a sphere of white-hot destruction.
Just then, The wall exploded inward.
Not from the Infernal's flames, but from a controlled detonation that sent concrete and rebar flying. Through the dust and smoke, figures emerged—three of them, clad in the distinctive dark uniforms of the Special Fire Force.
The lead figure was a mountain of a man, easily six and a half feet tall with shoulders like a linebacker. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing arms corded with muscle and covered in soot. Grey hair sprouted out of his head in long wavy lengths, with some of it being tied back into a ponytail. His face was all hard angles and determination, a worn out eyepatch covered the man's right eye as it partly went over the beard across his chin.A lit cigarette was dangling from his lips despite the fire and chaos around him.
The man didn't break stride.
His fist, wreathed in controlled flame that compressed and condensed around his knuckles, drove forward with the force of a cannonball.
The punch forcefully connected with the Infernal's skull.
The entire left side of the creature's head simply ceased to exist, chunks of burning matter exploding outward and splattering across the ceiling and walls. The Infernal's body staggered, its remaining eye wide with something that might have been surprise.
The Fire Force officer's voice was gravelly, matter-of-fact. "Special Fire Force Company 1, responding to the call. Everyone stay calm."
He flexed his hand, flames dissipating as he regarded the still-standing Infernal with professional assessment. "Tch. Tough bastard."
Behind him, his two subordinates moved into position, one wielding what looked like a high-tech fire axe, the other with hands already glowing with controlled pyrokinetic energy.
In the courtyard below, Shoto pulled himself to his feet, ice already forming over his injuries to numb the pain. He looked up at the shattered window, at the Fire Force team engaging the Infernal.
"About damn time," he muttered, then started running back toward the building.
This was going to be a long day.