Man, it has been a long time since I published on here. I had to figure out how to do it again.

Firstly, thank you for clicking on this story and I hope you enjoy! Secondly, I want to say that this world is going to follow the My Hero Academia plot as much as possible, while making some changes that I think is best for the overall story. And thirdly, I wanted to say that even though the main ship is labeled, I am a FIRM JirouXDenki fan, and hope they get together in the series proper.

Fourthly! I am making several stories in the My Hero universe, and have titled my spin as the 'Evolving Echoes: Heroic Chronicles'. This is considered "Part 1", but really, they won't fully interact with each other (Maybe once or twice, if I like the ideas I planned out). Just things will be mentioned that are based off other characters..

More tags will be added. Those are just the ones off the top of my head.

Anywho, enough ranting.

~;~

The plane bounced against the worn tarmac of the landing strip. The faded white outlines of guidelines led the airliner towards the bustling airport; it was a massive two-story complex covered by wall-sized windows. Several aeroplanes sat around getting refuelled and prepped for their next flight. Everyone rustled in their seats inside the cabin as I took a haggard breath. I was not ready for the journey of my first plane ride alone.

I got out of my seat and shakily thanked the stewardesses when it was my turn to leave. My entire body tensed tightly and refused to cooperate, nearly causing me to trip down the ramp. Luckily, I caught myself and shuffled the rest of the way down with the help of a stewardess.

I took a deep breath, glad to be back on earth after the twelve-hour flight. Now that I was inside, I took stock of my surroundings. Escalators led to either the second-floor or the first-floor food courts. Many kiosks spread throughout the ground floor and dazzling signs in Japanese and English. The ground had blue and red-tiled lanes, zigzagging all over the place.

I scanned the people waiting around before my gaze fell upon a pair of faded orange fox ears. A woman in her mid-forties appeared out of the crowd. She had long copper hair pulled back into a ponytail, and I saw some swatches of white at the sides. She wore dark blue jeans and a white shirt with a compact blue purse on her left. It had been seven years, but I would never forget what she looked like. And she stood there; the corner of her green eyes brimmed with tears with a big smile.

Before we could say anything, the stewardess walked forward with a small piece of paper in her hand. "Are you Mrs. Hana Hikari?"

"That is me, yes," Mom said, dabbing her eyes with a tissue.

"Am sorry, ma'am, protocol states I need to see your I.D."

Mom nodded and showed the stewardess her I.D. After a quick verification, the stewardess smiled and bowed, thanking us for choosing the airline before she slipped away.

Then I was in Mom's arms and hugged her tightly. A few tears escaped my eyes as she squeezed a little tighter. With her arms around me, it was like I was eight again, watching Mom get in the car that took her away.

Mom let go, and the two of us stared at each other. "Kou," she murmured and gently placed her hands on my cheeks. I couldn't help but smile, hearing her voice in person and not over the phone. "You grew so much!" She exclaimed, beaming with joy. She paused and straightened my shirt before pushing my glasses up on my nose.

I shooed her hand away, and we both laughed.

"You look the same, Mom." I couldn't stop feeling giddy. It felt like no time had passed between us, making me feel much better. I had worried that there'd be some awkwardness between us.

"Oh, please," she said, rolling her eyes before we headed to the luggage turnstile and waited. "How was the trip?"

I shivered. "Too long, but otherwise not bad."

"Am glad; I know it's terrifying flying alone."

"Yeah, and I don't wanna do it again." We paused at the luggage carousel, and I bent down to grab my suitcase and duffle bag.

Mom grabbed my suitcase faster, taking the handle and rolling it. "I got this," she said, not willing to argue.

I saw the look in her eye and decided to not say anything before we headed toward the parking lot. We traversed through the maze of people and finally found her car. I had heard that most people walk or take public transport, but Mom had said that the house was a bit out of the way of both.

We paused outside her small four-door car while she rooted in her purse for her keys. We put everything in the trunk before we got in, and she started the car. The glass vibrated for a split second as we left the airport, and I looked out the window. Another plane had taken off, and I watched it travel through the sky.

And in that second, I realized that I had made it. I had survived the trip; I was free. Dad could no longer get to me. No more abuse, no more wanting to disappear. I should've been happy that I was away. But I wasn't. Something wasn't right; pain blossomed in my chest.

And that was when it hit me. I was free but also very alone. I hadn't seen Mom for years; there was much to learn about her. I had no memories of grandpa; grandma passed away several years ago. The one person I had on my side was an ocean away, and she couldn't help. I was in a new place, with a massive language and cultural barrier between us.

Regrets fluttered through my brain as suddenly the car shrank. I rubbed my wrist as we sped along the road, the skin reddening. I stared out the window as I attempted to hide the gasps I was making. A cold sweat trickled down my forehead, and my hand went for the door.

[i]I need to go; I need to see if I can hop on the plan-[/i]

"Breath, honey," Mom grabbed my hand and squeezed tightly. "I know it's a lot to take in, but it's not that different from California."

"But…" I lost my train of thought; my brain was trying to figure out how to convince her to turn around and go back to the airport.

"It's okay; it was hard to come back for me too. And I was born here." She weaved us through traffic effortlessly. "It will be challenging, but that's why we practised and had help, remember?"

I sighed and turned to look at her. She focused on ensuring we didn't die, and the sun started peering over the multiple skyscrapers. I fought to control my breathing, and after a few minutes, I was somewhat okay. The panic was still there but forcibly ignored.

I knew she was still worried about me, so I blurted the first question that popped into my exhausted brain. "How's Grandpa?"

"He's okay; he could walk again after the hip surgery."

"Good," I trailed off, realizing I forgot to let Lucy know I was safe. I grabbed my flip phone and turned it on. Once it booted up, I laughed at the thirteen texts and seven missed calls waiting for me. I texted back that I had survived the trip and was en route to my new home.

"Is that your phone?" Mom asked, surprised.

I shrugged. "Yeah, we found it going through Dad's things a few years back. Dad said I could use it because he wanted me to have one."

Her grip tightened on the wheel. "I see."

I tried to change the subject. "I'm sorry I couldn't have visited sooner… I've wanted to, but Dad would never let me travel that far."

I felt her rage bubble around her. "How is Jack?" She asked, her voice carefully neutral.

I opened my mouth but closed it quickly. I never thought about how Mom and Dad's long-distance relationship worked. Dad always acted like everything was fine, but Mom's reaction told a different story. I gulped and tried to sound nonchalant. "Same old, still trying to milk everyone for a penny."

She didn't respond as we left Tokyo and entered a city called Musutafu. As we entered, the town sign had a muscular dude with blonde bangs and big smiles. A speech bubble said, 'Welcome to Mustutafu!'. He looked vaguely familiar, but no one was coming to mind. Maybe it was on an ad that I skipped or something.

"Kou, if I had any idea..."

I shrugged and brought the phone closer to my face. "I'm here now, and that's all that matters, yeah?" Another pang of pain wormed through my chest, but I ignored it. I didn't want Mom to regret it already.

She hadn't answered me yet as she continued to drive the car through the city. We passed a sizeable gated-off area full of four large glass-panelled buildings. An intricate entrance took up several streets, and I looked at the letter on the front, "U.A.".

We continued to drive for a few minutes before we hit a nice forest area. A modest mansion sat before us, and Mom pulled the car into the parking space. My mouth dropped; back home, Dad and I shared a one-bedroom apartment, and I had renovated the living room.

The mansion was only two stories tall but was massive widthwise. The porch wrapped around the right side of the building and stopped halfway down the left side of the house. Wooden beams hugged the left side and supported the second story. Two double pane windows faced the front of the house and were covered by blue curtains. A railing wrapped around a tiny balcony on the left-hand side of the second-story house. The first-floor walls were covered by a white and brown square-patterned wall. It reminded me of the classic Japanese architecture I see in movies. If I was right, the door was called a shoji. The far-right side of the house was where the front door was, or the genkan.

She let out a deep breath before she turned to stare at me and nodded her head. "I'll make it up to you, I promise." She stared at me when I didn't react. "Kou?"

I shook my head. "This house it's so big!"

She blinked in surprise a couple of times. "Really? This is normal size," she laughed, "we're thinking of expanding it." She said as we got out and got my things from the trunk.

"But… But..." My brain still couldn't process it. "Dad said you were poor!" I blurted out.

She stopped dead in her tracks, and the look she gave me made my skin crawl. "What?" she hissed. Rage burned in her eyes, and her tail fluffed up.

I hesitantly nodded. "Y-yeah, Dad said- "

She stomped over to me and got close. "Are you telling me Jack kept the money I sent?!"

"Huh?!" I asked, my head spinning. When did she send us any money?

She slammed the trunk, the entire car creaking. "That son of a-"

The shoji suddenly slid to the right, and an old man poked his head out. He had short silver hair and was rubbing his ears. He opened his mouth and spoke in Japanese far too fast for me to understand.

While I had grown up speaking Japanese thanks to Mom, once she moved away, I only practised when she called. Till I met Lucy, who helped me continue to practise. But even then, I wasn't the best speaker. Mom and this person conversed, and even if I couldn't understand her, she had an angry tone.

The old man stood up, and I could get a good look at him. He wore a dark green kimono tied around his waist with a ribbon and walked over barefoot. He was around Mom's height but slightly limped and looked rather frail. When he opened his eyes, I could feel mine growing. It was like looking into a mirror; he had the same shade of green that I did.

He finally shuffled his way over and hugged me. "It's good to see you again, Kou," he said in heavily accented English.

I hugged him back and tried to respond in my best Japanese, "it's good to see you too, Grandpa."

He chuckled and corrected my pronunciation. "It makes me happy that you can still speak Japanese. Hana said that you haven't been practising till recently."

I nodded. "I've had my friend help me with this." I embarrassedly rubbed the back of my head with my free hand. "I'm still re-learning, so unless you talk to me like a toddler, I won't pick it up."

He laughed and patted my back. "It'll come in time. Why, when you were younger, we'd have contests to see who could speak the fastest." His grin was infectious, and I couldn't help but smile back. Then he suddenly curled his fingers and rubbed his cheeks, almost like he was rubbing fur, and I laughed.

I knew Mom was still fuming; an almost fiery aura shot from her body. Grandpa shook his head and led us inside through the shoji, which he closed behind us. I took my shoes off and found myself in their living room. There was a rather large television in the far-right corner of the room.

A tall bookcase was filled to the brim with leather-bound books on the opposite side of the television. I walked around a lovely oak table and stared at the memorabilia on the top shelf. Pictures of Grandpa and Grandma when they were younger. When Grandpa got the key to the city, Mom and Dad's wedding photo. And even a picture of me in my first tuxedo.

I walked over and picked up the picture with a small smile. I still remember when we found out about my quirk. Dad would take me back to practice every day after preschool. My hand shook as I remembered all the times he gave me some tough love and all the pain that came with it.

Grandpa's hand touched mine and forced the picture down. "Come, let me give you a tour of the house." He went to walk towards an opening that led to the kitchen when he paused and held a hand on his hip.

"Dad, please rest. I can do it." Mom was at his side in an instant and helped him sit on one of the cushions on the floor.

He sighed, rubbing his right side. "Never said anything about the numbness," he muttered to himself and shooed us away.

Mom gave me a tour around the house, starting with the kitchen, your standard affair. Then there was the downstairs bathroom, which Grandpa used since upstairs was a no-go. Across the hall was Grandpa's room, and next to the restroom was a hall closet.

We walked upstairs; the wood had a lemony scent like it was constantly polished. I asked Mom, and apparently, a maid comes in three times a week to clean up, which dumbfounded me. "Are we rich?!"

She paused on the last stair. "Let's say enough that Dad can live happily." And continued the tour upstairs.

Mom's room was to the immediate right. Apparently, it was two rooms before my time, but they decided to combine them. To the left was the upstairs bathroom, which also had a shower. Next to that was another closet, full of some towels and toiletries.

And finally, we paused outside of 'my room'. Mom slowly opened it, and my eyebrows shot up. Inside was a full-size bed against the wall under the window. A small dresser with a desk and chair was wedged in the opposite corner.

She coughed and pushed the suitcase inside. "I know it's not much…."

I hugged her tightly. "Thank you, Mom, it's more than enough." I walked inside and tossed the duffle bag on the bed. Besides, I am used to sleeping on the couch. This is more than enough."

I turned to her and saw that she was doing the same thing Grandpa did, rubbing her face with her hands. I could feel her radiating anger again, but she turned before I could say anything. "I'll let you get settled. Lunch will be in a bit," her eyes flashed. "And then after that, we need to talk." Before I could answer, she shut the door.

I half-expected to hear it lock, but instead, I listened to her footsteps echo down the stairway. I let out a breath and plopped down on the bed. I clenched my fist in victory, leaned back, and nodded off when my head hit the pillow.

There was a gentle rap on my bedroom door before Mom's voice woke me up. "Kou, dinner time!" She called from the other side of the door.

I groggily leaned and rubbed my eyes, trying to rub the sleep away. I felt around for my glasses and found them on the floor. I grabbed them and put them on before I got up and looked out the window. The sun had faded away, leaving only the wispy dark blue sky. I leaned closer to the window, with the stars twinkling brightly; the sky wasn't as dark as I thought. The moon was full and hung so close that I felt I could touch it if I reached out.

I grabbed my phone as Mom opened the door. "Good morning, sleepyhead," she said with a hand on the doorframe. She was wearing an apron and had a towel hanging from the side.

I looked at the time; it was close to eight pm. "What about lunch?"

She shook her head and made a shooing motion with her hand. "I went to wake you up, but you were out cold."

"Hehe, it must've been jet lag." Forty missed messages, good lord. "So, uh, what's for dinner?" I asked as my stomach roared.

"Well, I wanted something relatively easy for someone who wasn't used to our sauces." She said as a heavenly smell wafted from behind her.

My body moved on its own, and we went downstairs to the dining room table and my mouth watered when my eyes saw it. It was so much food; it felt like I was at a fancy restaurant. Grandpa was already sitting down, twirling his chopsticks between two fingers.

There were four courses for each person at the table. Mom ushered me to my seat, and I plopped down on the chair. A massive bowl of rice sat to my left, followed by some sort of sauce, probably soy sauce. Above that was a steaming helping of miso soup with a small bowl of veggies. In the centre of the plate was a still steaming slab of salmon.

I grabbed the chopsticks, staring at them. "Um… Do you have a fork?"

"Oh! I knew I forgot something," Mom said and sped into the kitchen. I sat there awkwardly as Grandpa was lighting up his pipe. She came back a moment later and gave me a pack of forks. "I'll teach you how to use chopsticks later, but I feel you just want to relax on your first night here."

Grandpa took three puffs from his pipe before putting it out, and the three of us bowed and said, "thank you for the food."

Then we dug into the food, eating in silence. After a good twenty minutes of silence and eating, I leaned back in the chair and rubbed my belly. Mom got up, collected all our trays, and placed them in the sink before we all sighed happily.

Grandpa took a sip of his green tea before pushing back and shuffling toward his room. We watched him go in before Mom cleared her throat. "So, Kou…"

I turned to her, head tilted. "Yeah?"

"Have you thought about what school you want to attend yet?"

"Well… I'm not entirely sure. I browsed some local high schools and thought they wouldn't be too hard to get into."

"Did you read about U.A.?"

I blinked. "You mean that big campus we passed earlier?" She nodded. I racked my brain, the name jogging something up. "Isn't that a hero-only school?"

"It also has general ed classes and is one of the best schools in the country."

She got up and rummaged around the counter for a few minutes, her tail swishing back and forth before she let out a small "ha!" She turned around and placed a small stack of papers in front of me.

"What's this?" I asked and picked up the first one.

"It's a practice test." She said as I shuffled through the stack of papers.

"Eh?" I said, the kanji making it challenging to decipher. But the more I stared, the more the words came back.

"I heard some openings at the school and thought it'd be good for you to join a school worthy of your talents."

I took the papers from her and looked through them. "Mom… I'm not sure I'm that smart. There's quite a big difference between me studying in America and here…." I looked up at her. "Do you think I can do this?"

"I do, yes, and it's not like you'll do it alone. Grandpa and I will help you." She paused. "But if you don't want to, we can look for another school."

I gritted my teeth and browsed the practice test. It was a lot more thorough than I expected, but being one of the best schools in the country… it probably gets a lot of applicants. It wasn't as hard as I thought it'd be, well, maybe save for the kanji and Japanese history part. I could pass the English with flying colours; math might be dicey.

I sighed and nodded. "No, no… it's okay. Shoot big or go home, right?" I tried to muster some of the confidence Dad always showed.

She faintly smiled, and even though my body wanted to rest again, I knew I had to prepare for this exam. And hope I made the right call.