James Harlan walked the quiet streets of Musutafu with the easy stride of someone who had nowhere particular to be and everything to see. The cherry blossoms were in full bloom, petals drifting like pink snow in the late afternoon breeze.
The air smelled of street food—takoyaki vendors calling out, ramen shops steaming—and the distant hum of a city where Quirks were as common as cell phones.
Kids zipped past on hoverboards powered by minor levitation Quirks; a woman watered her plants with a gentle stream from her fingertip; an office worker absentmindedly extinguished a cigarette with a tiny flame from his thumb. It was ordinary. It was extraordinary.
He'd been here less than two hours, and already the weight of the old world felt distant. Just a new playground, full of potential.
He hadn't summoned them yet. Part of him wanted to explore alone first, to get his bearings before pulling Hope, Jozie, and Hayley Kirby into whatever this world had in store.
Another part—the part that had accepted the mysterious screen's offer without hesitation—knew he'd call them soon. They were his queens. His everything.
The street opened into a small park. Benches lined a gravel path, children played on swings with minor telekinetic boosts, and an old man sat on a bench, feeding pigeons.
Tall, broad-shouldered even in his slouched posture, blond hair thinning at the temples, he wore a baggy tracksuit and a gentle smile that seemed too large for his gaunt face.
James's steps slowed.
He knew that face. Even skeletal, even weakened, it was unmistakable.
Toshinori Yagi. All Might. The Symbol of Peace.
In canon, All Might was already on the decline by the time Izuku met him—his respiratory system and left torso mangled from the fight with All For One six years earlier.
The injury forced him to limit his hero form to mere hours a day, and each use shaved precious time off his life. Here, at this timeline point—before Izuku, before One For All—he looked even frailer.
The slow bleed of strength was visible in the way he breathed, shallow and labored, in the slight tremor of his hands as he tossed crumbs.
James approached slowly, hands in his pockets.
"Mind if I sit?" he asked.
Toshinori looked up, eyes bright despite the sunken cheeks. "Of course, young man. Plenty of room."
James sat, leaving a respectful gap. "Nice day for feeding pigeons."
Toshinori chuckled—a deep, rumbling sound that still carried echoes of the hero's laugh. "They're good company. No expectations, no applause. Just crumbs and coos."
James nodded. "You look like you've carried a lot of expectations yourself."
The older man's smile faltered for a heartbeat. "Perceptive. I suppose I have."
They sat in companionable silence for a minute. Pigeons fluttered. A child nearby accidentally levitated a swing too high and giggled as it came back down.
James turned. "I'm new around here. Just… passing through. But I've heard stories. About the Symbol of Peace. About how he's been slowing down lately."
Toshinori's expression tightened. "Stories have a way of growing legs."
"I'm not here to pry," James said. "But I'm strong. Stronger than I look. And I could use a real challenge. Would you… spar with me? Nothing official. Just two guys testing limits. No Quirks if you don't want to use them. Hand-to-hand."
Toshinori studied him—really studied him—for the first time. The gaunt man's eyes narrowed, seeing something beyond the casual hoodie and jeans. "You're not from around here, are you?"
"Not exactly."
A long pause. Then All Might smiled—small, tired, but genuine. "Alright. But no crowds. And no holding back on your end. I may be old, but I'm still me."
They walked to a secluded clearing deeper in the park—trees thick enough to shield them from casual eyes, ground soft with fallen petals. Toshinori stood straight for the first time, shoulders squaring. Smoke billowed from his mouth as he exhaled.
"Plus… Ultra," he muttered.
The transformation was slower than in canon highlights—less explosive, more labored. Muscle ballooned across his frame, blond hair spiking upward, eyes blazing with power. The skeletal frailty vanished, replaced by the towering, muscular form of All Might at his current diminished prime.
James cracked his knuckles. "Ready when you are."
They circled each other.
All Might moved first—blurring forward with a punch that cracked the air. James sidestepped, water whip snapping out from his palm to deflect the blow. The impact sent shockwaves through the trees, leaves raining down.
All Might laughed—deep, booming. "You've got tricks!"
James countered with a fire ball—small, controlled. All Might caught it bare-handed, flames sizzling against his palm, then hurled it back. James ducked, rolling into a water trident that he thrust forward. All Might blocked with a forearm, the force sending both skidding back.
They traded blows—All Might's raw power versus James's precision. Punches that could level buildings met water whips that coiled like serpents. Fire bolts met United States of Smash counters. The ground cracked, trees splintered, but neither landed a clean hit.
Minutes passed. Sweat glistened on All Might's brow. His breathing grew ragged—subtle at first, then obvious. James noticed the slight hitch, the way the hero favored his left side.
One final clash—All Might lunged with a Detroit Smash. James met it with a water trident reinforced by a fire whip. The collision exploded outward, sending both flying.
All Might landed on his feet.
Then he coughed.
Blood sprayed from his mouth—dark, thick. His muscular form deflated in an instant, smoke pouring from his mouth as the hero form collapsed. Toshinori Yagi reappeared—gaunt, trembling, clutching his side.
James lowered his hands immediately. "That's enough."
Toshinori sank to one knee, wiping blood from his lips. "I… pushed too hard. Sorry, young man. You're strong. Very strong."
James knelt beside him. "You don't have to apologize. That was… incredible. Thank you for sparring with me."
Toshinori managed a weak smile. "The pleasure was mine. It's been a while since I felt that alive."
The air shimmered blue.
The mysterious screen materialized between them—visible only to James.
OFFER: RESTORATION
Would you like to restore Toshinori Yagi's respiratory system and left-side torso, damaged in his fight with All For One?
Note: This injury is the primary cause of his gradual weakening and time limits in hero form. Restoration will return him to his prime physical condition. Consequence: He may no longer feel the need to pass One For All to a successor.
Accept? Y / N
James stared at the words.
All Might—prime again. No more coughing blood. No more three-hour limit. No more slow death. But the note… if he didn't need a successor, Izuku's story changed. No One For All inheritance. No Symbol of Peace passing the torch.
He thought of Izuku across the street—Kung Fu-trained, Quirkless, determined. The boy who would've become Deku. Would this rob him of destiny? Or free him from the burden?
James glanced at Toshinori—frail, bleeding, still smiling through the pain.
This man had carried the world on his shoulders for decades. He deserved to breathe easy again.
"Yes," James whispered.
The screen flashed green.
Golden light—soft, warm—enveloped Toshinori. The gaunt man gasped as flesh knit, bones realigned, lungs expanded. His left side filled out, scars vanishing beneath skin.
Muscle returned, not in the bulky hero form, but in the natural, powerful build he'd once had. His breathing steadied—deep, effortless. No more rattle. No more blood.
Toshinori stood slowly, flexing his hands. His eyes widened.
"I… I feel…"
He laughed—full, booming, the real All Might laugh.
"Whole. I feel whole again."
He turned to James, eyes sharp. "You did this. Didn't you?"
James stood. "I might've had something to do with it."
Toshinori bowed—deep, respectful. "Thank you. Whoever you are… thank you. I don't know how, but I owe you my life. Again."
James smiled faintly. "Just keep being the Symbol of Peace. The world still needs you."
Toshinori straightened. "I will. And if you ever need anything… find me. Yagi Toshinori doesn't forget a debt."
James nodded. "Goodbye, All Might."
He turned and walked away, leaving the hero standing in the clearing—stronger, healthier, prime once more.
The mysterious screen vanished without further comment.
James walked until he found a quiet alley. He closed his eyes, focused on the mental tether the screen had given him.
Soul Space.
The world blurred.
When it cleared, he stood in a vast, sunlit meadow—grass soft underfoot, wildflowers blooming in impossible colors, a crystal-clear lake reflecting a sky without end.
A modern mansion rose in the distance—sleek lines, massive windows, a wraparound porch. To one side, a training ground with sparring mats and dummies. To the other, a hot spring fed by steaming waterfalls, surrounded by lounge chairs.
His wives were waiting.
Hope spotted him first. She ran—tribrid speed carrying her across the meadow in seconds—and threw herself into his arms. "You're back!"
Jozie followed, laughing, siphoning a burst of energy that made flowers bloom around them. "Took you long enough. We've been redecorating."
Hayley Kirby sauntered over last, scales shimmering along her arms, golden eyes molten. "Missed you, King."
James pulled them all close—Hope against his chest, Jozie under one arm, Hayley Kirby pressed to his back.
"I'm sorry I didn't bring you out right away," he said. "I wanted to scout first. But this place… it's perfect."
Hope kissed his jaw. "The screen explained everything. Pocket dimension. Enter and exit whenever. We're safe. And we can join you anytime."
Jozie grinned. "We've already claimed rooms. Hope's got a spell library. I've got a magic lab. Hayley's turned the basement into a dragon lair."
Hayley Kirby nipped his ear. "And the bedroom's ours. All four of us."
James laughed—free, light. "Good. Because I just healed All Might. Restored him to prime. Might've changed the whole story there."
Hope's eyes widened. "You what?"
"Long story," he said. "But we've got time. And a whole new world to explore."
They stood together in the meadow, husband and wives, king and queens, watching the sun dip toward the horizon.
The adventure had just begun.