Chapter 1: Prologue – Nah, I'd Die
Hah… Fuckin' hell… Me, Naoya… the greatest male of the Zenin bloodline… Dyin' at the hands of a goddamn female?
Just 'cause one bitch decided to overstep her place, the whole clan's gone to shit, everything burnin' and crumplin' down… What a tasteless, pathetic fuckin' joke. Gettin' put in this mess by a woman, of all people, that woman…
You son of a whore… You women… you were only born to spread your legs wide open. Power? Leadership? What a disgustingly fake-ass lie… The only thing you cunts are good for is carryin' a real man's seed and nothin' else.
For a worthless piece of shit like you to kill a man like me… you really think that makes you strong now, you bitch?
Piss off… A female like you wasn't even worthy of spillin' my blood… All you're good for is gettin' thrown on the bed, pinned down, and…
While he was still cursing the sheer ridiculousness of the situation in his mind, the irresistible pull of death took hold of him.
He had been stabbed in the back repeatedly by that woman, draining the last of his strength. His heart stuttered, hammering against a hollow chest as it tried to pump what was no longer there. The scent of the massive pool of blood spreading across the tatami filled his nose.
This was it. The inner room of the Zenin family's main house. The deepest chamber of the old estate where generations of sorcerers had passed down their blood only for it to end here.
Outside, something was burning. Distant screams echoed. But Naoya no longer had the strength to care.
The wood grain on the ceiling swam in his blurring vision.
…So I'm dyin' on tatami, huh?
This wasn't the death he'd imagined. Not the ruins of Shibuya, not some battlefield under the open sky. Of all places, the family's own reception room. He hadn't exactly pictured himself dying in some flashy location as a jujutsu sorcerer, but this still felt like a lame-ass ending.
The Zenin heir. User of Projection Sorcery. Born as the eldest son, he had discarded his sister the moment she was born without a technique and lived as his father's convenient pawn. That was the life of Zenin Naoya.
If someone asked whether he had regrets…
He couldn't exactly say no.
But he had no intention of admitting it. He hadn't been raised soft enough to indulge in feelings like that.
He no longer cared what would happen to the Zenin clan. What Maki did with her life had nothing to do with him. He had neither the duty nor the interest to worry about anything after death.
…Well, whatever.
Even as his consciousness faded, Naoya reached that conclusion. He had never been the type to cling desperately to anything. If he had to say one last thing, though—
…I wanted to rampage a little more.
That was it.
The cold of the tatami vanished.
Zenin Naoya's consciousness sank into darkness.
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When awareness returned, he was crying.
A newborn's wail.
The worst.
His mind was perfectly clear, but his body wouldn't listen to him at all. A blurry white ceiling filled his vision, along with his own tiny hands flailing as he wailed. Voices around him were saying, "Congratulations," "It's a healthy baby boy."
…Reincarnation, huh?
Even while crying, Naoya grasped the situation. The tears weren't his choice—his body was doing it on its own. A baby's body couldn't be controlled. It pissed him off so much that he cried even harder. To anyone watching, he probably just looked like a lively newborn, but inside he was clicking his tongue nonstop.
His name was still Zenin Naoya.
The moment he saw his parents' faces, Naoya thought, Never seen these people before. They weren't from the main Zenin bloodline of his previous life. But the moment he heard his mother being called, he realized the family name was still "Zenin."
Zenin… Back to the Zenins again.
Whether it was coincidence or fate, Naoya's only reaction was Well, figures. No matter where he was reborn, he was still himself. If the name was the same, it was actually convenient.
But there was something else that caught his attention.
Knowledge about this world had been planted in his head. It felt like he knew a manga or an anime. The world of My Hero Academia. A world where "Quirks" existed, along with heroes and villains.
And one more thing.
Deep inside his body, he could feel something sleeping. The exact same sensation as in his previous life.
…Projection Sorcery's still here, huh?
Even as he cried, Naoya felt certain. This body carried the technique. The greatest sorcery of the Zenin clan, carried over from his previous life.
There was no way to test it as a newborn yet, but it was definitely there. That much he knew.
…All right. Time for a do-over.
He tried to stop crying but couldn't. His body still wouldn't obey. It annoyed him so much that he wailed even louder.
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The Zenin family he had reincarnated into was an old estate in central Shizuoka Prefecture, surrounded by mountains and tea fields.
They had been major landowners for generations and now made their fortune in real estate and asset management. The mansion was enormous, with a main Japanese-style house plus separate buildings and storehouses. There was even a Japanese garden maintained by gardeners on the grounds.
In short, they had money.
But there was one decisive difference from the previous Zenin main family. There were no jujutsu sorcerers here. No cursed spirits. In fact, jujutsu didn't exist in this world at all.
His parents were ordinary people. His father, Zenin Yasumasa, was the son of a wealthy family and now ran the family business. He was a quiet man who never said more than necessary to his son. His mother, Zenin Ritsuko, came from another old family and had a gentle personality. They treated Naoya with a certain detached affection—neither placing special expectations on him nor neglecting him.
Not interfering. That seemed to be the Zenin family's parenting style.
For Naoya, it was actually perfect.
From the age of three, Naoya secretly began training.
He sat alone on the engawa, touching the wooden boards with his right index finger. He gathered cursed energy at his fingertip and slowly poured it in.
There it was.
The sensation of engraving "rules" into the ground. The feeling of splitting one second into twenty-four frames. It was unmistakably Projection Sorcery. The texture of the technique was exactly the same as in his previous life. The amount of cursed energy was almost identical too. It looked like he had carried over his entire vessel from birth.
…Cursed energy's here. So the problem is technique precision.
Cursed energy was present. But this new body wasn't yet accustomed to the sensations needed to wield Projection Sorcery perfectly. The muscle memory he had built up in his previous life, the precision he had honed in real combat—he would have to hammer all of it back into this body from scratch.
…Gotta retrain. What a pain.
Even while complaining, Naoya started serious training the very next day.
To outsiders, the sight of a three-year-old sitting silently on the engawa doing something by himself must have looked downright creepy, but his parents seemed to think, "He's such a quiet child, thank goodness," and never said a word. Naoya was grateful for the hands-off parenting. Overly meddlesome parents would have been a hassle.
When he turned six, Naoya underwent a Quirk examination.
He was taken to the doctor, who checked the number of joints in his toes and ran the tests.
The result: Quirk present.
The diagnosis sheet read "Projection Reinforcement." It had apparently been interpreted as a body-enhancement Quirk that subdivides one second and controls movement.
It was quite different from reality, but Naoya didn't bother correcting them.
"…Well, whatever."
As he left the examination room, Naoya muttered it. His mother walking beside him asked, "Did you say something?"
"Nothing."
"I see."
That was the end of the conversation.
The real issue was the "strength" of the Quirk. During the exam, when the doctor measured Naoya's physical abilities, the numbers that came out were unbelievable for a six-year-old. The doctor frowned, doubted the equipment, and measured again. The results stayed the same.
"…Young man, are you able to control your Quirk?"
"I am."
"I-I see… You have the makings of a hero in the future. Are you interested in becoming one?"
"I'll think about it."
On the way home that day, Naoya stared out the car window and thought about the profession called "hero."
The place in this world where he could make the best use of his strength. A position where he could fight villains. A job where he could rampage within the bounds of the law.
…Not bad.
That was Naoya's only reason for wanting to become a hero. Nothing noble about it. If there was a place where he could fight, he would use it. Simple as that.
His six years of elementary school passed mostly peacefully.
Naoya avoided standing out. He had no interest in hanging around classmates or getting on a teacher's good side. He listened to lessons half-heartedly and spent his after-school time training in the mansion garden. That was his daily routine.
There was only one incident.
In fourth grade, a boy in his class picked a fight with him. It was the age when kids loved bragging about their Quirks, and this one could set things on fire.
"Zenin, your Quirk's so boring. All it does is make you fast, right? Not even cool."
Naoya glanced at him and answered.
"...You got any self-awareness at all, man?"
"Huh? The hell's that supposed to mean?!"
"I'm askin' if you ain't embarrassed braggin' about a Quirk like that..." Naoya continued with a genuinely fed-up look.
"All it does is burn stuff. The only use is startin' fires. You really say that like you're proud of it? Normal people don't."
The boy's face turned red and he yelled, "The hell?!"
What happened after can be skipped, but Naoya didn't get hurt. The other kid ended up in the infirmary. The teacher came running, looking like he was about to cry, and said, "Zenin-kun, that was too far!"
"He started it."
"Y-yes, that may be true, but…!"
"Sensei, is this my fault?"
The teacher had nothing left to say. After that, no one bothered Naoya again. It was perfectly peaceful.
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Even after entering middle school, his basic stance didn't change.
On the surface he was "a somewhat strong, unsociable honor student." In secret, he continued daily cursed-energy control and technique training.
The precision of his Projection Sorcery was steadily improving. The sensation of splitting one second into twenty-four frames had recovered to nearly the level of his previous life. He could "fix" an opponent's movements frame by frame and hammer in attacks during the gaps. That feeling was coming back.
His cursed-energy reserves were about the same as before. It still fell short of his prime in the previous world, but in pure combat ability he had already reached a level more than enough to fight average heroes.
However, he still couldn't use every technique from his previous life.
Reverse Cursed Technique still eluded him. He understood the theory of multiplying negative and negative cursed energy to create positive, but right now he couldn't even touch the sensation. In real combat it was completely useless.
Extended techniques were the same; the various applications of Projection Sorcery still lacked the necessary cursed-energy control precision and volume.
Domain Expansion was out of the question. That required an entirely different order of cursed energy. The current Naoya didn't have the vessel to deploy it.
Simple Domain was still beyond him too. He was starting to grasp a sensation similar to Falling Blossom Emotion, but it wasn't battle-ready yet.
…Guess I just gotta do it step by step.
Naoya didn't rush. He hadn't in his previous life either. What you built up became strength. That didn't change just because he had reincarnated.
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A/n: I'm here with a story where Naoya isn't being possessed, it's actually him. Make sure to let me know what you think and don't forget to add it to your library!!