Six months old, and Haruto could finally sit up on his own.
It shouldn't have been such a victory. In his previous life, he'd run marathons, climbed mountains, done all sorts of physical activities without a second thought. Now he could sit upright without falling over, and his parents acted like he'd just won an Olympic medal.
"Kenji! Kenji, come quick! He's doing it!"
His father rushed in from the bedroom, nearly tripping over his own feet. "Is he—oh my god, he is!"
They both stood there, hands clasped together, watching Haruto sit on the living room carpet like it was the most amazing thing they'd ever witnessed.
Haruto looked back at them, then down at his own tiny body. This was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.
"Should we take a video?" his mother whispered.
"Already recording," his father confirmed, holding up his phone.
Of course he was.
Haruto sighed—which came out as more of a huff—and reached for the nearest toy. A wooden block. He picked it up, examined it, then deliberately stacked it on top of another block.
His parents gasped like he'd just performed surgery.
"He's stacking them! Yuki, he's stacking them!"
"I see it! Oh my god, our baby is a genius!"
Haruto was not a genius. He was a grown man in a baby's body who understood the basic concept of putting one block on top of another. But he couldn't exactly explain that, so he just continued playing while his parents documented every mundane second.
The block tower reached three blocks high before his infant motor control betrayed him and the whole thing toppled over.
"Aw, that's okay sweetie," his mother cooed, sitting down beside him. "You did such a good job! Want to try again?"
Not particularly. But Haruto picked up the blocks again because it made her happy, and making his parents happy seemed to be his primary job these days.
His mother watched him for a moment, then gently brushed his dark hair back from his forehead. "You're going to be so smart when you grow up. I can tell already. You're always watching everything, always thinking."
*You have no idea,* Haruto thought.
"Maybe he'll be an engineer like you," she said to Kenji, who had finally stopped recording.
"Or a teacher like you," his father countered. "He's patient. Did you see how carefully he placed those blocks?"
They went back and forth like this sometimes, planning out his future like they were mapping a route on GPS. Haruto had learned to tune it out. They meant well, but they were imagining a completely different person than who he actually was.
"Whatever he wants to be," his mother said finally, pulling Haruto into her lap. "As long as he's happy."
Haruto leaned back against her chest, feeling her heartbeat. Strong and steady. The same way she approached everything in life.
He wondered what she'd think if she knew the truth. If she knew her son was planning to kill people. That he was already thinking about which villains to eliminate first, which threats to neutralize before they could grow.
Would she still hold him like this?
Probably not.
The thought sat heavy in his chest, but Haruto pushed it away. There was no point dwelling on things he couldn't change. This was the path he'd chosen. The only path that made sense.
"Oh!" his mother said suddenly. "I almost forgot—Inko invited us over this afternoon. She wants Haruto to meet Izuku properly. They're about the same age now."
"That's great," his father said. "It'll be good for him to have a friend nearby."
Haruto's attention sharpened. Meeting Izuku. Actually meeting him, not just hearing about him through his mother's conversations.
The protagonist. The boy who would one day wield One For All.
This should be interesting.
---
The Midoriya apartment was almost identical to theirs—same layout, same basic furniture, just decorated differently. Where Haruto's home had family photos and his father's engineering awards, the Midoriya apartment was covered in All Might merchandise.
And he meant *covered*.
Posters on every wall. Action figures on shelves. A blanket draped over the couch with All Might's face printed on it. Even the curtains had little All Might symbols.
It was like walking into a shrine.
"Sorry about the mess," Inko said, though the apartment was spotless. "Izuku's been on an All Might kick lately. I can't seem to keep up with it."
"It's no trouble at all," Haruto's mother assured her. "Where is the little one?"
"In his room. Let me get him." Inko disappeared down the hallway, and Haruto heard her gentle voice. "Izuku, sweetie? We have visitors. Come say hello."
There was a pause, then the sound of small feet padding across the floor.
Izuku Midoriya appeared in the doorway.
He was tiny. Smaller than Haruto expected, though they were roughly the same age. His green hair stuck up in all directions like he'd just woken up, and he clutched an All Might action figure in one hand. His eyes—wide and green and impossibly innocent—fixed on Haruto with open curiosity.
"This is Haruto-kun," Inko said gently, guiding Izuku forward. "He lives right next door. Can you say hello?"
"Hello," Izuku whispered, so quiet Haruto almost didn't hear it.
Haruto stared back at him. This was the boy who would fight All For One. Who would master six quirks. Who would unite an entire generation of heroes.
Right now, he looked like a strong breeze could knock him over.
"Haru, can you say hello?" his mother prompted.
Haruto raised one chubby hand in what might generously be called a wave.
Izuku's face lit up with a smile so bright it was almost painful to look at. He immediately plopped down on the floor in front of Haruto, still clutching his action figure.
"This is All Might," Izuku said, holding up the toy. "He's the number one hero. The best hero ever. Do you like heroes?"
Haruto had no idea if six-month-olds were supposed to understand questions like that. Probably not. But Izuku didn't seem to care about his lack of response.
"All Might saves everyone with a smile," Izuku continued, making the action figure fly through the air. "Whoosh! Detroit Smash! He's so cool. When I get my quirk, I'm gonna be a hero too. A hero like All Might."
There was such absolute certainty in his voice. Not hope—certainty. Like becoming a hero wasn't a dream but a foregone conclusion.
Haruto felt something uncomfortable twist in his stomach.
In a year, maybe less, Izuku would go to the doctor and learn he was quirkless. That certainty would shatter. He'd spend years being told his dream was impossible, being mocked and bullied and beaten down.
And yet he'd still become a hero. Still inherit One For All. Still save the world.
*Because that's who you are,* Haruto thought, watching Izuku make his action figure do loops in the air. *You don't give up. Ever. Even when you should.*
"He's very enthusiastic about heroes," Inko said apologetically. "Sometimes I worry it's all he thinks about."
"Nothing wrong with having a dream," Haruto's father said. "Right, Haru?"
Haruto made a noncommittal noise. The adults took it as agreement and laughed.
Izuku scooted closer, until he was right next to Haruto. "Do you have toys? We could play together. I have lots of heroes. We could make them fight villains!"
Before Haruto could figure out how to respond—or if babies even needed to respond—Izuku had already started pulling out more action figures from a box under the coffee table. Within seconds, the floor was covered in plastic heroes.
"This one's Endeavor," Izuku explained, holding up a figure with flames. "He's number two. And this is Gang Orca, and this is Kamui Woods, and this is—"
He kept going, introducing each hero like they were personal friends. Haruto watched, half fascinated and half exhausted by the sheer energy radiating off this kid.
Their mothers settled on the couch, falling into easy conversation about pediatricians and baby food and other mundane parenting topics. Occasionally they'd glance over at the boys and smile at whatever they saw.
Haruto wasn't entirely sure what they were seeing. Izuku was enthusiastically making his action figures fight while providing sound effects. Haruto was just... sitting there. Existing. Trying not to knock over the elaborate battle scene Izuku had constructed.
"—and then All Might goes PLUS ULTRA!" Izuku shouted, making the All Might figure punch a villain. "And everyone's saved! The end!"
He looked at Haruto expectantly, like waiting for applause.
Haruto clapped his hands together once. Twice. The coordination required was actually impressive for his age, but he'd been practicing.
Izuku beamed. "You like it! Okay, okay, let me show you another one. This time, the villain is bigger, so All Might needs help from Endeavor..."
And off he went again.
Haruto settled in for what was clearly going to be a long afternoon of hero story time. He could handle it. He'd sat through worse in his previous life—corporate meetings, family dinners with relatives who wouldn't shut up about politics, that one time he'd been trapped on a train for three hours with a crying baby.
Ironic, considering what he was now.
"You're gonna be my friend, right Haru-kun?" Izuku asked suddenly, pausing in his play. "We can play heroes together when we're bigger. And then when we get our quirks, we can train together and go to UA together and become heroes together!"
It was such a simple question. Such an innocent plan.
Haruto looked at those wide green eyes, so full of hope and trust, and felt something in his chest constrict.
Friends.
He'd planned on staying close to Izuku anyway—keeping tabs on the protagonist was just smart strategy. But Izuku wasn't asking for a strategic alliance. He was asking for friendship. Real, genuine friendship.
The kind where you told each other things and trusted each other and didn't keep massive secrets about past lives and plans to eliminate villains.
Haruto couldn't give him that. Couldn't give anyone that, really.
But he could give Izuku something else. Protection. Support. A shield against the cruelty that was coming.
Even if Izuku never knew that's what it was.
"Friends," Haruto said. Or tried to say. It came out more like "fens," but Izuku understood anyway.
The smile that split across Izuku's face was blinding. "Yeah! Friends! This is so cool! I never had a friend before. Well, I have Kacchan, but he's not really... I mean, he is, but..." Izuku trailed off, looking uncertain.
Kacchan. Bakugo Katsuki.
Another piece of the puzzle, probably already developing the explosive personality that would define him.
"You'll meet Kacchan soon," Izuku continued. "He's really cool. His quirk's gonna be super strong, I just know it. All three of us can be friends!"
Right. Because that wouldn't be complicated at all.
But Haruto just nodded, and Izuku took that as permission to launch into another elaborate story about All Might saving people from a burning building.
The afternoon stretched on. Eventually, Haruto's mother declared it was time to go home for his nap—thank god—and they said their goodbyes.
"Come back anytime," Inko said warmly. "Izuku loved having a friend to play with. Didn't you, sweetie?"
"Yeah!" Izuku clutched his All Might figure. "Bye, Haru-kun! See you soon!"
Haruto waved from his mother's arms as they walked back to their apartment. Through the wall, he could faintly hear Izuku talking to his mother, probably recounting every detail of their playdate.
"That went well," his mother said, settling Haruto into his crib. "You made a friend today. I'm so proud of you."
She kissed his forehead and left the room, closing the door most of the way but leaving it cracked open like she always did.
Haruto lay in his crib, staring at the ceiling.
A friend.
He'd made a friend.
The protagonist of this world had decided they were friends, which meant Haruto was now part of the story whether he wanted to be or not. Not just an observer—an active participant.
It should have felt like a victory. He was exactly where he needed to be.
So why did it feel like he'd just made a terrible mistake?
---