Lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling, I started thinking about life.
Not in a deep or philosophical way—just my life. This one.
I didn't know how or why I ended up here. There was no dramatic death, no warning, no grand explanation. One moment I was Leonard, the next I was Ren. Whatever the reason, I had been given another chance, and I didn't want to waste it.
I didn't want to live in fear.
This world was full of heroes and villains, quirks and disasters. Power decided almost everything here. If I stayed weak, then sooner or later, my life would be decided by someone else—by a villain, an accident, or even a hero's mistake.
I didn't want that.
I wanted to live freely. To make my own choices. To be happy without constantly worrying about what might happen tomorrow.
And for that, I needed strength.
Not to stand at the top like All Might or to change the world, but strength that was mine. Strength that would let me live without fear.
That meant understanding my quirk.
I sat up and looked at my hands. Whatever that strange, cold energy was—the thing I felt earlier—it was clearly connected to my quirk. But beyond that, I knew nothing. How it worked, where it came from, what it could do… all of it was a mystery.
Jumping straight into future plans without understanding my own ability would be stupid.
So I decided to delay everything else.
Heroes. U.A. High. The future. Canon events. All of it could wait.
I had time. I was still a kid, and whatever was going to happen in the future was years away. Rushing now would only limit my options later.
For the next few days, I focused on observing and gathering information.
Quietly.
I listened to the staff when they talked among themselves. I paid attention to older kids discussing school, heroes, and current events. From scattered conversations and small details, I started piecing together a rough idea of where I stood in the timeline.
Based on dates, ages, and the way people talked about well-known heroes and incidents, I figured out that I was either around the same age as the main cast, one or two years younger, or possibly one or two years older.
That was good.
It meant I wasn't late, and I wasn't too early either. The future was still flexible.
Which only strengthened my resolve.
Before worrying about timelines or deciding what role I would play in this world, I needed to understand my quirk—what triggered it, how it reacted, and what that strange energy actually was.
Only after that would I decide what kind of life I wanted to live.
I lay back down on the bed, closing my eyes.
There was no need to rush.
This time, I had time—and I planned to use it properly.