School was… boring.
Aoi sat at the small desk, tapping his pencil against the paper. Numbers and letters blurred together. The teacher's voice droned on about… something. He wasn't sure. In the excitement about heroes and quirks, he had forgotten that in this world, kids went to school too.
I'll survive, he thought.
He scribbled in the margins of his notebook, drawing little sketches of heroes he had seen on posters: He hadn't finished watching MHA - only season one, with his sister but he remembered enough to know the basics. Considering how happy-go-lucky the show seemed, he wasn't too worried. He could probably integrate normally. It wouldn't be perfect, of course, but it didn't seem like it would be as bad as being thrown into something like Attack on Titan. Though to be on the safe side it would be a good idea to be at least as strong as the Nomu shown in USJ.
Kids were annoying. Not cute anymore and old enough to be bothersome and bratty. They kept poking him, trying to get him to play with them. Aoi followed for a little while, hopping and running, just to avoid upsetting anyone. Eventually, he gave up and wandered outside, looking for a quiet spot.
A large tree near the playground seemed perfect. He lay down under it, the grass damp from the morning rain, watching clouds drift lazily across the sky.
At first, he almost dozed off.
Then he heard it: a frantic chirping. Looking up, he noticed a nest hidden in the branches. Tiny birds wriggled, their mouths open, desperate, while a black crow circled aggressively above. The mother bird flapped, shrieking, trying to chase it away.
Nature… Aoi thought. It's natural.
And yet, something inside him twisted - a memory surfacing without warning. Screeching metal, rain, the little body of his sister under him. Protect.
The crow lunged, and the mother bird screamed in panic. Aoi's small voice shouted, "Hey! Go away!". The crow ignored him. His eyes scanned the ground desperately. He spotted a stone. A stick. Anything. Anything to help. He picked up the stone in one hand and the stick in the other.
He threw the stone with everything he had, but it barely went a few feet, landing harmlessly to the side. The mother bird was flapping frantically, looking exhausted. Panic surged through him.
I have to do something.
And then it happened.
A spark ran through him. Just a small surge at first, but it rushed down his arm - a red aura bubbling, into the stick. The stick vibrated, glowing faintly. He hadn't even thought it would do anything—but the idea, the thought that it needed to launch the stone further, merged with the object's function. Aoi's mind didn't need to think hard about how, he just needed to protect. Red energy surged around the stick, reshaping it. It grew sleek, black, with glowing red hints along its length. Sparks of energy danced across the wood. It had transformed into… something like a slingshot.
Excitement could have come later. Now wasn't the time. He loaded another stone, gripping the new weapon tightly. He let it fly. The crow shrieked as the stone hit it, knocking it back and scattering feathers. The mother bird clung to her babies, exhausted but alive. Aoi stared, wide-eyed, chest heaving.
He had done it. He didn't fully understand what had happened. The stick had changed because he needed it to. He had imagined a way for it to work, and somehow it did. He sat down feeling drained, half expecting a muscular blond man to jump from behind the tree praising him for his bravery and offering him a cheat... but no he was just delirious from the happiness.
School couldn't have ended sooner. Aoi walked home, clutching the stick - now back to a stick tightly. His parents noticed the excitement on his face.
"Did you have fun?" his mother asked, smiling knowingly.
"Yes!" he said. "I… I helped."
His father raised an eyebrow. "Helped? With what?"
He didn't answer. Not yet. Not when he could still feel it buzzing in his hands, warm and alive, like it remembered what he had wanted it to do. His mother noticed the way he kept staring at the stick, small sparks of red flickering along its length. She raised an eyebrow but smiled softly. "You did something unusual today, didn't you?"
Aoi hesitated. "I… helped a bird."
His father crossed his arms, eyes showing confusion.
Aoi tried to explain, his words tumbling out in a rush: the crow, the nest, the stone, the stick. He didn't fully understand it himself, but he tried to tell it as clearly as he could. His mother listened quietly, nodding along.
His father rubbed his chin. "Hmm… that does sound familiar," he said slowly. "Not exactly the same, but in a way… it's similar to my quirk. I enhance objects slightly to perform better, right?" He gestured at the stick. "You… seem to have done the same thing. Only… more."
Aoi blinked. He looked at his hands, then at the stick still faintly glowing.
More?
It didn't feel the same as his father's quirk. His dad's enhancements were slow, slight, fixed. They took effort, drained him quickly. What had just happened felt… faster. Louder. Like the stick itself had surged to life with his thought.
It's like… a supercharged version of Dad's quirk, Aoi thought, a thrill running down his spine.
His father nodded again, thoughtfully. "I think we should take you to a quirk doctor. Someone who can check what exactly is happening here. We don't want you accidentally hurting yourself or anyone else without knowing."
His mother agreed. "Yes. Better to understand it now. Who knows what might develop next?"
Aoi looked at them both. They weren't worried. They weren't upset. Just… careful. He felt a small warmth inside him.
Quirk doctor, he repeated silently. … maybe they'll know.
Later, his parents took him to see a quirk specialist. The office was bright, filled with charts, gadgets, and other kids. Aoi stood quietly as the doctor examined him, poking and prodding, asking small questions about his recent experiences.
The doctor's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Hmm…"
Aoi's parents explained what had happened
The doctor's eyes twinkled. "I see. This is… unusual. Very unusual."
"What do you mean?" his father asked.
"This child's quirk is responsive. It… enhances objects based on intent and creativity. I'd call it…" The doctor paused, tapping a clipboard. "…Upgrade."
Aoi blinked.
He liked that word.
A quiet thrill ran through him, but he didn't shout. He didn't run around. He was only four. But he already felt the truth:
He had a power. And it could be used.