Hi, my name is Ethan.

I have a foot fetish. In fact, so much so that my semblance has to do with it. Funny isn't it?

I guess it all started when I was reincarnated, although not in Ozma's manner -Dying in one body to be sent to another like minded soul. Rather, I lived on Earth, in the 21st Century. Presidential elections, trade wars, epidemics, the whole lot.

But beyond all these things, I had one thing I held dear: my fondness for feet. Then when I was reborn into young Ethan's body, I had one thought only:

Well two thoughts really.

One, what the fuck was up with these people and their superpowers; and two, where could I go to find a mistress?

Sadly, I was raised in a home full of nothing but men. Grimy ass males they were. My dad was great though, he taught me everything there was to know about being successful in the world. It seemed that I had two good choices. Either become a hunter and beat things up or become a multi-millionaire entrepreneur with a brand-new idea from my previous memories.

Issue with being an entrepreneur though: you need to be smart. Beyond that: you need a good idea to start off with. The only ideas I had were well… feet related, so that route had to be chucked out the window.

Considering worse options: there is becoming a master criminal; however, that comes with too many a risk to keep up with. You also need to be smart, which I, am most definitely not.

So that left becoming a hunter, and I could definitely do that. To be great one many need more than a qualification than that of which I could achieve in my entire life, but to be adequate? All you needed was effort.

And I, had a lot of effort. In fact, I would do anything to get some good feet. And feet I was going to get damned anything else. Why else would I desire 'success' in life? Being a hunter would get me lots of lien, connections, and fame of a certain level. All three seemed to help in my goal of getting some feet.

I remember the conversation my dad had with me when I was three, although it was more a bedtime story than otherwise. I knew when he mentioned this thing called 'aura' that all hunters had that I needed it. Something that could let you train longer and more efficiently through repairing muscle damage passively? That sounded like the sort of thing that I could use even at my tender age.

So how did I go about it?

I asked my dad. He didn't want me to go through the process. I asked again. And again. And again… Eventually he gave in, after all, one does not have their son ask a single question for a week at a frequency of five times a minute without coming to the understanding that perhaps it may as well be done.

When he activated my aura, it wasn't a stabbing sort of pain, in fact, it was a duller sort of pain. Every heartbeat was like someone had gotten a sledgehammer and slammed it into me. Every breath like I was breathing on the top of Mt. Everest. My airways began to constrict, I stopped breathing for a good minute, eyes closing.

I saw my dad panicking on the side of me, checking my heart rate, pumping my small body, and then, I was fine. The dull pain? Gone. The sledgehammer? Turned into ashes and off to the wind. The atmosphere? Back to breathable.

I trained like hell after despite my dad's dislike for my activities. He was a hunter after all, and my mother was as well. She died a year after I was born. My dad blamed the hunter life.

But before one asks, yes, I did see her feet. Did I feel happy? No. I respect family.

Plus, biological impulses stop incest through complex chemical signals among other things. In other words, I had no inclination for such.

Of course, that's why I grew up in such a male dominated place. My dad moved out of Vale and we settled in the countryside. A countryside where it was a hand-built house and nothing else. For miles.

I was six and frustrated when I felt it, a certain shift in my mentality, a boost of… willpower. I unlocked my semblance, and what did it do? Absolutely nothing to help with normal hunter activities -hunting Grimm. Instead, it let me do what I wanted most: to worship, smell, lick, what not, feet.

My semblance wasn't world altering more so it was a passive ability that let me get done what had to be done to get feet. It let me train for the purpose of becoming a hunter -to get feet-, it let me sleep less every day with no side effects -to get feet-, and it gave me a nice boost in my parameters when in danger -because I couldn't get feet dead could I?

It was like that that I trained for years. My dad helped with training of course, and I could enjoy his company because every moment with him taught me something. My semblance took that excuse well. That was why it was even sadder when he died. It was an attack of Grimm. Grimm being a hunter's prey in fairytales, but rather a constant foe that never died that hunters only helped to balance against.

That fact had never hit harder when I saw him die in front of my eyes, protecting me at my age of ten. It was traumatic, or it would've been, but my semblance slaughtered the Grimm in my defense and my semblance kept me going. It took my grief and threw it away. Whether I should thank it or not for that, I would never know. I never got to feel the grief long enough to be able to compare.

I left for Vale after that. My body -although technically ten years old- had already gone through puberty and I stood at a respectable five foot six. I looked more fifteen than not. I figured I could get into Beacon -a hunter school.

And that is where the story begins.