Chapter 2
Her first day as a newborn was unsurprisingly dull. There was no freedom for her to do anything, and she spent her time at the hospital confined to a soft cot. It was comfortable, sure, but mind-numbing. Even though she hadn't yet spent much time as a baby, she already missed her ability to walk around freely. She had taken it for granted for too long. Instead, all she could do to entertain herself was the repetitive motion of opening her palms and closing them as quickly as possible. She hoped that the simple act would help improve her motor abilities, something that was severely lacking at the moment.
As much as she disliked being confined, it was a boon to be able to grieve and contemplate her predicament. She grieved the loss of her past life, and the version of her that could've been had she not died that day. She grieved for her biological parents in this life, for the loss of their actual child - she had robbed them of the experience of raising an actual baby.
It was odd, to grieve on the day you were born.
However, that doesn't mean she wasn't going to cherish her new life. It would be a shame to waste her life mourning the past and imagining what-ifs, never appreciating what the present held. She wasn't truly ready to move on just yet, but she was still excited to see where this life would lead, to see new sights and reach new heights. Even better, with her memories intact she wouldn't have to relearn algebra and all the other pesky subjects again. Like a new game plus. Perhaps this time, she would be able to reach that sweet, sweet 4.0 GPA she never got in her past life.
Thankfully, their stay at the hospital wasn't too prolonged. She wasn't quite sure what the exact procedure was for newborns, but they were discharged after a day or so. The hospital likely wanted them out of their hair, seeing how she had no health complications.
Her father, or at least the person she assumed was her father, had gently loaded her up in the back of the car where a baby car seat was waiting. It felt degrading almost, to have to be strapped down like that, but for the sake of safety she grudgingly allowed it. Not like she had much of a choice. Being a baby was already starting to suck, and it had barely been a full day yet.
There was another person accompanying her in the backseat of the car, and whoever it was kept poking her cheeks and grasping her hand. She initially tried to swat the intruding arm away, only to give up after a while. Her control over her limbs wasn't what it used to be. Her annoyance only seemed to encourage the person, and they continued their relentless poking and harassment, much to her chagrin.
The two of them talked to her constantly throughout the whole car ride, making oohing and aahing noises as you would to a kid. She sighed internally. This was going to be a long couple of years. From what limited interactions she had had with them, she could tell that they were doting parents. While she could appreciate that, she dearly hoped they wouldn't overdo it — there was only so much coddling and baby speak she could stand before she snapped. To accept the affections of strangers who weren't her real parents didn't feel right. What would her parents think? Could she really just replace them like that, as if they never meant anything in the first place? At those hypothetical questions, she felt her mood drop depressingly. It did not improve over the period of the car ride.
They had decorated a nice room for her in their house - the walls were blue and the ceiling was painted jet black, with bright stars dotted across them. They placed her in the crib in the center of the room with a spinning mobile hanging on top of it. It played a song whenever she pressed the button for it. A panda toy was the other occupant of her crib — she hugged it. It made a crinkly noise when she did.
Her parents murmured something to her that, again, went right over her head. She both anticipated and feared having to learn Japanese of all languages. On the one hand, she personally liked the way Japanese sounded. To her, it was melodic and fluid, smooth to ears. On the other hand, it was as far from English as you can get. If she were to be honest to herself, she wasn't even sure if she would ever be able to speak Japanese without a crippling accent. It would certainly raise some eyebrows if a baby born and raised in Japan sounded like a tourist.
In her musings, she failed to notice the departure of her caregivers. They had turned off all the lights in the room aside from the small nightlight in the corner. The amount of light it was exuding was pathetic and was barely enough to cast even the dimmest glow across the room. She grimaced. What was she supposed to do now? She didn't want to sleep just yet, her naps at the hospital had been enough. Here she was in an exciting new country, yet stuck in a baby crib. The bars on either side of her looked like bars in a jail cell, and in the faint light cast a shadow over her. Never before had she felt so alone and claustrophobic.
She wished she had her laptop with her, or her phone, anything really. Hell, she would even take a calculator that could play Snake at this point. Anything was better than staring blankly at the ceiling while drowning in her thoughts.
She turned on the mobile. It played a song in a robotic fashion. She sighed, again, audibly this time. She could already see herself hating this song very soon.
And thus, her childhood begun. With crinkly pandas and spinning mobiles.
Her eyesight did not magically improve over the past month, but she could tell there were slight improvements. It was still near impossible for her to differentiate between similar colors, but outlines of things were sharper and clearer, and she could now recognize her mom and dad, a true accomplishment.
The other piece of good news was that she had learned what her new name was. Kaori. Or at least, she was fairly certain it was her name. It was a word her parents had repeated to her over and over again - the one common denominator out of all the unknown words and phrases they had uttered in her vicinity.
Kaori.
She liked it. It sounded cute.
The first time she had responded to her name being called had elicited loud cheers from her dad — followed by the sound of a camera shutter for a couple of minutes. The voice of her mom followed not too long after, and she called Kaori's name repeatedly, hoping to gain her attention as well. Kaori obliged. Who was she to deny her happiness?
Everything was blissfully peaceful and normal. Kaori absolutely adored it. She had a cozy home and her parents were loving — she was ahead in the game of life this time around as well — what more could she ask for? There didn't appear to be any other children running around the house either, meaning she was an only child once again. It didn't bother her. She had lived without siblings for so long, she could do it again.
While she still wasn't sold on the idea of having another set of parents, she was content. The idea of growing up in Japan had been alarming to her initially, but she had made her peace with it. She could see herself growing up here as happily as she did the first time around.
Which was why the shock had been so potent when her dad floated off the ground without a single warning. Blurry as her eyesight may be, there was no mistaking it - he was most definitely levitating. Not just any lame levitation either; he was a good couple of feet off the floor, and his head was bumping against the ceiling.
She gaped and felt her dusty brain whirl to life for the first time in a while, theorizing on what her eyes were taking in.
What in the world was happening?
Last she checked, Japanese people most certainly did not levitate. She had never been to Japan before, so she supposed she couldn't be too sure, but to her, it was something much too big to be covered up.
Furthermore, from her limited eyesight, everyone she had met thus far had looked completely normal and humanoid - no extra limbs nor strange skin tones. Granted she hadn't met many people yet, it was exceedingly unlikely that she had been reincarnated into an alien universe. It wouldn't make sense for them to speak in Japanese either, had they been aliens.
Her mother stuffed a milk bottle down her unwilling mouth, taking advantage of how preoccupied Kaori was. She let out an annoyed groan in response, still unable to form coherent sounds with her undeveloped vocal cords. Baby formula was starting to taste real nasty after having nothing but that for an entire month. Where was her cheeseburger, dammit!
Her father had ceased his floating and sat himself down at the head of the table casually, as if he hadn't just broken the laws of physics.
Kaori could feel a headache coming.
Finally, her mother took away the milk bottle and struck up a conversation with the only other adult in the room, not at all noticing the mental toil Kaori was going through. In the midst of their conversation, Kaori picked up some English thrown in there. The words all and might.
All might. All Might.
Her eyes widened. She had heard wrong, hadn't she? Perhaps all might was a Japanese phrase? She forced herself to relax. There was no way they were talking about the All Might, the number one hero from an anime she had watched in her past life. She had just binged the show a few weeks before her death, so it was all still fresh in her mind. As cool as it would be for it to be true, the idea was more absurd than seeing her father levitate in right front of her.
Levitate… She frowned.
Her father levitating. Wouldn't that just support the theory that she was in the world of My Hero Academia? That her father had a quirk?
No …There must be another explanation.
The words all might were mentioned again by her parents, and she gaped at them so unabashedly that they actually paused their conversation to pay attention to her.
Her mother said something to her in a baby voice, and before Kaori could be annoyed, she had left the table. Kaori's eyes traced her movements with great interest.
She returned mere moments later with something grasped in her hand, which she then placed on the table of Kaori's highchair.
Her father said something, and Kaori could feel their stares boring into her, as if expecting some kind of reaction. Reaching out to the small object, she grasped it firmly in her pudgy hand and held it up right next to her eyes.
A figurine … of All Might? She couldn't make out all the colors, but she was certain. It had the odd signature bangs of his that defied gravity, and the heroic pose he had always held in the show. It had to be him.
Kaori stared and stared, even turning the figurine over as if the back of it held secrets. She could feel her heart plummet and a bit of fear began to form.
A small part of her hung on to the hope that maybe, just maybe, the show was popular here as well and her parents just happened to be fans.
It was a flimsy theory, and she knew it. It would make more sense to have an Izuku figurine in that case.
She would have to wait until her eyesight got better before she could be a hundred percent sure, but for now, she would have to live under the assumption that they were in the anime show she loved.
She scoffed lightly to herself. What luck!
The worst part was, she didn't get the chance to finish the show. School had gotten too hectic and she couldn't justify taking so much time off to watch anime.
Kaori felt greatly conflicted. She couldn't be sure if she should be celebrating or crying. The logical part of her was alarmed — the existence of heroes and villains meant danger, even death. Even if she didn't choose to pursue the path of a hero, she might one day be caught in the crossfire between a fight and die. She was terrified of the fact. After feeling the cold emptiness of the void, dying wasn't exactly something she wanted to go through again. Besides, she was now inside a fictional world, something that came to be because of the imagination of its creator. The idea of that was starting to hurt her brain. Was she a fictional character now too, or was this all just a hallucination her mind created in the moments of her death?
On the contrary, the childish part of her was immensely excited. A quirk! She wondered what it might be. Perhaps she could even get into UA if she tried? She'd love that, despite all the dangers along the way. Her knowledge of the show, while incomplete, had to count for something, right? How was it conceivable for her to die if she knew exactly what was going to happen next.
In her confusion, her mother confiscated the All Might figurine and replaced it with a pacifier, reminding her that she still had a ways to go before getting to that point.