The first thing Aoi Kanzaki noticed was the sound of rain.
It tapped gently against the window, steady and calm, like it had all the time in the world. He lay still on the bed, staring at a ceiling that felt unfamiliar in a way he couldn't explain. The room smelled clean. Warm. Safe. Small.
His hands felt small.
Aoi lifted one slowly and held it in front of his face. The fingers were short, soft, with none of the scars he remembered having. No calluses. No weight. "I'm… small," he whispered. The voice that came out wasn't his. Too high. Too light. Confusion crept in, followed by something sharper but before it could grow, memories crashed into place all at once.
Metal screaming.
Rain-soaked asphalt.
Headlights too bright.
A steering wheel. A scream that wasn't his.
His sister.
He remembered twisting around in his seat without thinking, throwing his body over hers. Arms tight. Back curved. No plan. Just instinct.
Protect.
The impact never came the way he expected it to. There was pain, yes, and then —
Darkness.
Aoi sucked in a breath and sat up abruptly. His chest rose and fell too fast, heart pounding hard against small ribs.
"…She," he muttered. "She has to be okay."
The memory ended there. No hospital. No answers. Just hope, fragile and stubborn that his sister lived because he had covered her. The door creaked open.
"Aoi?" a woman's voice called gently. "You awake?"
Footsteps approached, and a woman stepped into the room. She had soft eyes and tied-back hair, wearing an apron dusted with flour. When she saw him sitting up, her face immediately brightened.
"Oh, good morning," she said warmly. "You're up early today."
She crossed the room and placed a hand on his forehead, cool and reassuring. Aoi froze. Her touch didn't feel threatening. It felt… familiar.
"Mom?" he said before he could stop himself.
Her smile widened. "Yes, sweetheart?" Something twisted in his chest. His old mother's face flashed through his mind - older, tired, but always smiling the same way. The ache was sudden and deep.
"I ...nothing," Aoi said quickly, shaking his head. "Just… bad dream."
She sat beside him and pulled him into a hug without hesitation. He stiffened at first, then slowly relaxed. Her arms were strong in a quiet way. Protective. "You've been having those sometimes," she said softly. "The rain does that to you." He nodded against her shoulder, even though he didn't understand what she meant.
A deeper voice came from the hallway. "He better not be skipping breakfast again." A man stood in the doorway, tall and broad-shouldered, arms crossed. His expression was stern, but his eyes softened when they landed on Aoi. "You're awake," the man said. "Good. Discipline starts early."
"Don't scare him," the woman replied, though she was smiling. "I'm not scaring him," the man said, then paused. "…You sleep well?"
Aoi looked at him. At his father.
"Yeah," he said after a moment. "I did."
The man nodded once, satisfied. "Get dressed. School doesn't wait." Strict. But not cold. Aoi could feel it the care hidden behind rules. When they left him alone, Aoi sat quietly on the bed, rain still tapping against the glass. Four years old.
He knew that somehow. The knowledge sat in his mind like it had always been there. Along with other things.
Heroes.
Quirks.
A world where almost everyone was born different.
"My Hero Academia," he whispered, testing the words.
The idea felt ridiculous. Unreal. And yet… the room, the rain, his parents' faces - all of it felt solid. This wasn't a dream. He looked down at his small hands again and clenched them slowly.
Different world. Different body.
But his instincts were the same. He didn't feel some burning desire to save everyone. He wasn't chasing justice or glory. Even in his old life, he hadn't been brave like that. He had just… acted. When his sister was in danger, he moved. Aoi walked to the window and looked out at the rainy street below. People passed by with umbrellas. Somewhere out there were heroes. Villains. Rules he didn't fully understand yet. "If I can help," he murmured, more to himself than anything else, "then I will."
Not because he was a hero.
But because he knew what it felt like to protect someone smaller than you. And because, wherever his sister was now, in this world or another, he hoped she was living well.
The rain kept falling.
And Aoi Kanzaki began his second life.
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