Dreams were always safer than reality.
In dreams, I could run without getting tired. I could stand tall without fear. I could save people—reach out my hand before it was too late. In dreams, I was strong.
But when I opened my eyes, I was just Zeke Kaito.
A normal boy.
On a normal Earth.
With no quirks. No powers. No destiny.
Just shelves of anime books, worn manga pages, and a heart that beat a little too hard every time a hero smiled on screen.
That night, rain tapped softly against my bedroom window, each drop like a quiet reminder of how ordinary my life was. My room smelled faintly of old paper and dust—the scent of stories I'd already lived a thousand times through other people's eyes.
I lay on my bed, holding a My Hero Academia volume above my face, rereading a page I already knew by heart.
> "A hero's job is to smile—even when it hurts."
I closed the book slowly and stared at the ceiling.
"Must be nice," I whispered. "Being born for something."
Thunder rumbled in the distance.
I wasn't jealous of heroes. Not really. I admired them. I loved them. But sometimes—late at night, when the world felt too quiet—I wondered what it would be like to matter that much. To be needed.
That was when I heard it.
A soft, hollow thump beneath my bed.
I froze.
My heart skipped once. Then again.
"…Dad?" I called out weakly.
No answer.
I swallowed and leaned over the edge of my bed, peering into the darkness below. My hand brushed against something solid—something that definitely hadn't been there before.
I pulled it out.
A book.
Not one of mine.
It was large, heavy, bound in cracked brown leather that looked older than anything else in our house. There was no title on the cover. No author. Just a single, circular symbol, etched deep into the leather—as if it had been burned there.
The symbol made my chest tighten.
For no reason I could explain… it felt like it was watching me.
"This is… weird," I muttered.
I glanced toward my door. My dad was asleep. The house was quiet. The rain outside grew heavier, like it was urging me on.
I opened the book.
The first page was blank.
The second page wasn't.
At the center was a massive circle, drawn in ink so dark it almost looked wet. Symbols spiraled around it—letters I didn't recognize, yet somehow understood. Beneath it, written in clean, careful handwriting, were the words:
> "To cross what should never touch, place your hand within the circle and speak your name."
I laughed under my breath. Nervous. Disbelieving.
"Yeah, right," I said. "And I'll wake up with a quirk too, huh?"
I was about to close the book when I noticed something else—small, faint text beneath the instruction, like an afterthought.
> "Only one who longs to be a hero will survive the crossing."
My fingers trembled.
I didn't believe in magic.
But I believed in heroes.
I believed in the idea that someone—anyone—could be more than what the world told them they were.
The thunder outside cracked loudly, shaking the walls.
I took a breath.
"Zeke Kaito," I whispered.
And placed my hand on the circle.
---
Pain wasn't the first thing I felt.
It was weightlessness.
The room vanished—not faded, not blurred—torn away like paper ripped from a book. Light swallowed everything. My body felt stretched, pulled, as if reality itself was asking me a question I didn't know how to answer.
My name echoed inside my skull.
Zeke Kaito.
Zeke Kaito.
Zeke Kaito.
I tried to scream.
No sound came out.
Then—impact.
---
I collapsed onto hard ground, gasping like I'd been underwater for too long. Sunlight burned my eyes. Warm air filled my lungs.
I pushed myself up slowly.
This wasn't my room.
Wide streets stretched before me, impossibly clean. Buildings towered high, sleek and modern. Digital screens floated in midair, flashing advertisements for hero agencies.
People walked past me.
People with tails. Wings. Glowing skin. Steel limbs.
My hands shook.
"No," I whispered. "No way…"
I turned.
Behind me rose massive iron gates, gleaming under the sun. Beyond them stood a campus I had only ever seen on screens.
U.A. High School.
My knees nearly gave out.
"I… I'm in…" My voice cracked. "…I'm in the My Hero Academia world."
This wasn't a dream. Dreams didn't smell like concrete and metal. Dreams didn't have wind that brushed your skin or sounds that echoed so clearly.
I was here.
And I had no idea why.
---
Hours passed in a blur.
I wandered, dazed, terrified of being noticed yet desperate for someone to explain what was happening. Every hero costume I saw felt unreal. Every quirk made my chest ache with wonder.
I eventually found a quiet park and sat down, clutching my head.
"Think, Zeke," I muttered. "You read the book. You followed the instructions. That's why you're here."
But why me?
As if answering my thoughts, something stirred inside my chest.
A warmth.
A pulse.
Then—pain.
I cried out as golden light flashed beneath my skin, veins lighting up like cracks in glass. Energy surged through my arm, wild and uncontrolled.
"What is—?!" I gasped.
A voice echoed in my mind.
Not loud.
Not angry.
Ancient.
> "Another… vessel?"
I collapsed to my knees.
"No," I whispered. "I don't have a quirk. I shouldn't—"
The name slammed into my consciousness.
One For All.
My breath caught.
My heart pounded so hard it hurt.
"That's impossible," I said shakily. "That power belongs to—"
"—ME."
I looked up.
A towering figure stood before me, hands on his hips, cape fluttering slightly in the breeze. His smile was wide, heroic, unmistakable.
"All Might."
My vision blurred.
"This has to be a hallucination," I whispered.
He laughed warmly. "Young man, I can assure you—I'm quite real."
Before I could respond, another presence approached.
Green hair. Freckles. Concerned eyes.
"Sensei!" Midoriya Izuku said, stopping short when he saw me. "Are you okay?"
The moment our eyes met, the energy inside me exploded.
Golden lightning erupted between us, crackling violently. Deku staggered back, eyes wide.
"That power—!" he gasped.
All Might's smile vanished.
"Zeke," he said sharply. "What are you hiding?"
"I don't know!" I screamed as the energy tore through me, burning and freezing at the same time. "I didn't ask for this!"
Voices flooded my mind—echoes of past wielders, fragmented and overlapping.
> This body is wrong.
The power resists.
He doesn't belong to this world.
I screamed as the light flared brighter than ever.
Then—
Silence.
I collapsed.
---
When I woke up, I was lying on a bench. My body ached like I'd been shattered and rebuilt.
All Might stood nearby, arms crossed, face grave.
Deku sat beside me, worry written all over his face.
"You're awake," Deku said softly.
All Might exhaled slowly. "Zeke Kaito… what you manifested today was One For All."
My throat tightened.
"But that power…" Deku whispered. "It felt unstable. Like it was tearing itself apart."
All Might nodded. "Because it shouldn't exist twice."
He looked at me directly.
"You are carrying a power you should not have."
My hands clenched.
Fear gripped my chest—but beneath it, something else burned.
Resolve.
"If that power chose me," I said, voice shaking but firm, "then I won't waste it. I'll learn. I'll suffer if I have to."
I looked at Deku.
"I'll become a hero."
The wind stirred.
Somewhere far away, something dark noticed.
And the power inside me pulsed again—waiting.
---
End of Chapter 1