The sun was beginning to dip as Haruto finally reached his front door. He paused.
'I'm currently held together by two strawberry melon pans' He thought
'When is the near infinite stamina that comes with big H kick in'
He straightened his posture, slapped his cheeks to bring some color back into his face, and turned the handle.
"I'm home!" he called out, injecting as much healthy protagonist energy into his voice as he could muster.
"The miracle child has returned from the battlefield of middle school, and he requires a high-calorie tribute!"
The sound of a vacuum cleaner cut off instantly.
Hana appeared from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. Her eyes did the thing they always did lately - a scan from his head to his toes, looking for a limp, a pale complexion, or a cough.
"Haruto! You're late," she said, though her voice was more relieved than angry. "I was just about to call the school. Did you… did you have to stay late for a check-up? Are you feeling okay?"
"Mom, I'm fine," Haruto said, sliding into his house slippers. He walked past her into the kitchen, his instincts noting the smell of ginger and soy sauce.
"I just made a friend. Or a sidekick. It's hard to tell yet, she has a very high words-per-minute count."
Hana followed him, her expression softening into a look of wonder. "A friend? Oh, Haruto… that's wonderful."
She sat down at the small kitchen table, watching him as he grabbed a glass of water. "What's their name? Are they in your class? Do they want to come over for dinner sometime? I can make extra katsudon!"
Haruto took a long, steadying drink, feeling the "construction crew" in his chest cheer for the hydration.
He leaned against the counter, looking at his mother. In his old life he couldn't remember the last time someone had looked at him with that much uncomplicated hope. It was a little terrifying.
"Her name is Toru. And let's hold off on the katsudon for now," he said with a crooked grin. "She's a bit… hard to see. Literally. She's invisible."
Hana blinked. "Invisible? Like a Quirk?"
"The best kind," Haruto said
"She's basically a walking copyright lawsuit for a certain Fantastic Four member, but she's good people. She kept me entertained while I was navigating my social hurdles."
Hana's smile faltered just a fraction, her fingers tracing a pattern on the tabletop. "And the other kids? Were they… were they kind?"
Haruto caught the subtle shift in her tone. She was asking if they'd called him "Quirkless." If they'd treated him like a dying boy.
He thought about the pile of bullies on the roof. He thought about the way his knuckles still throbbed from the impact of Sparky's jaw.
"They were exactly what I expected," Haruto said, his voice dropping the "perky kid" act for a second.
"But don't worry about me, Mom. I'm not the same kid who went into that hospital. I've got a very aggressive insurance policy now. Nobody's going to mess with the Akagi brand."
Hana looked at him, her brow furrowing. "You sound so… different sometimes, Haruto."
"It's the hospital food," Haruto joked, quickly pivoting back to his meta-persona to break the tension.
"All those mystery-meat patties and lukewarm broth. They're basically a super-soldier serum if you eat enough of them."
He walked over and gave her a quick, one-armed squeeze. "Now, what's for dinner? I need enough protein to feed a small army"
Hana laughed, and reached up to pat his cheek. "Ginger beef and extra rice. Go wash up."
As Haruto headed toward the stairs, his legs feeling like they were made of lead weights.
'Scene end. Emotional beat achieved. Now, if I can just make it to my bed before my hardware actually crashes, I'll call this a successful pilot episode.'
When he finally pushed into his room.
He let his backpack hit the floor with a heavy thud, and went directly to his bed.
He turned his head slightly, looking toward the "camera" in the corner of the ceiling with a weary, sharp-toothed grin.
"Alright, folks," he croaked, his voice barely a whisper.
"The flashy intro is over. We've established the powers, met the invisible love interest - or sidekick, let's not get ahead of ourselves - and successfully beat up some NPCs. But as every fan knows, you can't survive the finale on vibes alone."
"It's time for the 'Behind-the-Scenes Training Arc.' Cut the lights, cue the montage music. If I'm going to be the main character of this disaster, I at least need to be able to throw a punch without needing a nap afterward."
********<>********
3 years later
The calendar on the wall had most of its dates crossed out in aggressive, red ink. Three years.
One thousand and ninety-five days of hardware upgrades, protein shakes, and breaking the law for all the right reasons.
Haruto stood in front of his bedroom mirror, pulling on a sleek, charcoal-gray tracksuit with crimson accents.
He looked at his reflection, and while he wasn't a hulking bodybuilder, the frail, sickly frame of an 11 year old was long gone. In its place was something lean and coiled.
"System Update: Hardware Version 2.0," Haruto whispered,
"Stamina issues? Recalibrated. Bone density? Stabilized. Power level? Let's just call it… variable."
He reached under his bed and pulled out a battered metal case.
Inside lay the "vigilante" kit: the scuffed goggles, the reinforced lower-face mask, and the heavy fabric that had become a nightmare for Musutafu's low-level street villains.
"The fans love a good vigilante sub-plot," he muttered to the empty room.
"Steal from the scum, pay off the mother's medical debt, and disappear like a shadow. It's a classic 'Robin Hood' trope with a dash of 'Punisher'. Mom thinks the hospital had a 'billing error'. Let's keep it that way."
He didn't pack the hoodie today—that would be a one-way ticket to a police interrogation.
"Haruto! You're going to be late for the train!" Hana's voice drifted up the stairs. She sounded younger these days - lighter. The crushing weight of the debt he'd secretly vanished had taken ten years off her face.
"Coming, Mom!"
He bounded down the stairs, skipping the last three steps and landing with the grace of someone who had spent three years jumping off rooftops.
He grabbed a piece of toast from the table in mid-air.
Hana stood by the door, her hands trembling slightly as she looked at him in his athletic gear.
"UA, Haruto... The Hero Course. Are you sure? You've already had enough miracles for one lifetime."
Haruto stopped, his hand on the door handle. He looked at her, and for a second, the "Mercenary" and the "Meta-Fan" faded, leaving only the son.
"I'm not proving anything, Mom," he said, his voice quiet but steady. "I'm just taking my rightful place in the opening credits. Besides, someone has to show those 'Elite Quirks' that a Quirkless kid with a high-budget training montage is the most dangerous thing in the room."
He gave her a quick, confident grin and stepped out into the morning air.
The train ride was a blur of internal calculations. How much force would it take to disable a Zero-Pointer? How many points did he need to secure a "Main Cast" slot?
"Alright, audience, the Prologue is officially over," he whispered.
'Three years of moonlighting as a vigilante has sharpened the blade. I don't know exactly where my limit is yet, but I'm looking forward to finding out. Expectation: Giant robots. Reality: Probably a lot of property damage and a very confused Eraser Head.'
As the train pulled into the station near UA High, he saw a familiar head of... well, a familiar floating tracksuit.
"HARUTO!"
Toru Hagakure didn't so much walk as she did vibrate with excitement. Her own athletic gear was bright teal, the sleeves waving frantically.
"You're actually doing it! We're both doing it! Can you believe it? UA! The big leagues! Are you nervous? I'm so nervous I think I'm accidentally becoming even more invisible!"
Haruto adjusted the straps of his backpack, his smirk returning in full force.
"Nervous? Ghost-chan, I've spent three years preparing for this 'Boss Fight.' I'm just worried the robots aren't going to provide enough XP to make the trip worth it."
He looked up at the massive glass gates of UA High, the sun reflecting off the "U" and "A" like a spotlight.
"Roll the intro music," he whispered to the void. "It's time to break the game."