My previous life ended with a classic case of "Too Much Otaku, Not Enough Situational Awareness." I was crossing the street, clutching a pristine, limited-edition Midnight figurine, and mentally debating if her Quirk-inspired outfit was "physically possible." I didn't see the truck. I only heard the screech of tires that sounded remarkably like a laugh from the heavens.
My final thought? "I hope the paramedics don't find the 'Research' folder on my desktop."
The Silver Spoon Lifestyle
I didn't wake up in a cold, dark void. I woke up in a room that smelled like expensive lavender and looked like a Pinterest board for "Billionaire Nursery Ideas."
"Oh, look at him! He has your stubborn little chin, Masaru-kun!"
"And he has your eyes, Hana. He looks like he's already judging my tie collection."
This was my new life. My mother, Hana Arisawa, was a literal ray of sunshine. She was gorgeous, with soft violet hair and a Quirk called Aura of Bliss. She didn't just walk into a room; she changed the mood of it. If you were near her, you felt like you'd just had a nap and a warm cookie. My father, Masaru Arisawa, was a mountain of a man who wore suits that cost more than my old house. His Quirk, Mineral Pulse, allowed him to sense and shape gemstones.
They were wealthy, powerful, and—most annoyingly for a cynical reincarnated soul—absolutely, disgustingly in love with me.
The "Baby Chronicles" (The Short Version)
Being a baby with the brain of a twenty-something anime fan is a special kind of psychological torture. I spent three years being carried around like a designer handbag. I had to endure being called "Wittle Ken-chan" while I was internally theorizing about the geopolitical implications of hero society.
The "Aha!" moment came when I was three. I was "practicing" my walking (read: stumbling toward the kitchen for high-end snacks) when I saw the TV.
A massive man with a smile that had way too many teeth was carrying a literal skyscraper on his shoulders.
"Everything is fine! Why? Because I am here!"
I froze. My organic apple-puff fell from my mouth. All Might. I wasn't just in Japan. I was in that Japan. The one where teenagers break their arms for fun and a guy with hands on his face wants to delete the "Subscribe" button on society. I spent the next hour face-down on my plush rug, wondering if I could just bribe the villains with my inheritance to leave me alone.
The Birthday Blowout
Age four is D-Day in this world. My parents were buzzing with excitement in our garden, which was basically a private park with better security.
"Come on, Ken-chan!" Hana cheered, clapping her hands. Her bliss aura was so strong the nearby flowers were practically vibrating. "Show us what you've got! Just feel the warmth in your tummy!"
I stood on the grass. I didn't want a "warmth." I wanted something cool. I thought about the show BoBoiBoy from my old life. I focused on the solid weight of the earth, the rushing wind, and that weird, tingly feeling I got whenever I touched the static-heavy curtains.
Tug. Pull. SNAP.
A massive cloud of orange, blue, and yellow smoke erupted. It smelled like rain, ozone, and dry cocoa.
"KENJI?!" my parents screamed.
When the smoke cleared, the original me was gone. In my place stood three four-year-olds.
Earth-Kenji was sitting flat on his butt, wearing a tiny brown cap. He looked incredibly sleepy. He patted the grass, and a small mound of dirt rose up to form a perfect, tiny armchair. "Everything is... vibrating," he grumbled in a voice far too deep for a toddler. "Can we turn the sun down? It's too loud."
Wind-Kenji was currently hovering four feet off the ground, spinning like a ceiling fan. He had a blue cap on and was laughing so hard he was turning red. "LOOK! DADDY! MAMA! I'M A BALLOON! I'M FLAPPING!" He sneezed, and a gust of wind sent the entire birthday cake flying into a hedge.
Lightning-Kenji was the real problem. He had a yellow cap on backward and sparks dancing across his hair. He wasn't sitting or flying; he was jittering. He flickered from the patio to the fountain in a blink.
"SO FAST!" Lightning-Kenji shrieked, his voice cracking with static. "I FEEL LIKE I DRANK ELECTRICITY! I'M GONNA POKE THE CAT! HI MAMA! BYE MAMA!"
Masaru and Hana stood frozen. Their one adorable son had just split into a grumpy geologist, a human tornado, and a high-voltage crackhead.
"Hana..." Masaru whispered, his camera falling to the grass. "Did we just... did we just get a 'Buy One, Get Two Free' deal?"
Hana's Aura of Bliss spiked so hard that the birds started singing in triple-time. She let out a squeal of pure joy and scooped up Earth-Kenji (who sighed) and snagged Wind-Kenji out of the air.
"Three of you!" she cried, kissing Earth-Kenji's grumpy face. "Three little Kenjis to love! Masaru, we're going to need so many more hats!"
I, the collective consciousness currently experiencing a three-way sensory overload, realized my life was officially a circus. Earth-Me wanted a nap, Wind-Me wanted to chase a bird, and Lightning-Me was currently trying to outrun his own shadow.
Well, I thought as Lightning-Me accidentally short-circuited the garden's expensive lighting system. At least I'll never have to play hide-and-seek alone.