Kusuo died because some drunk asshole couldn't handle his liquor and a steering wheel at the same time.
He was walking home from the convenience store one late evening. The kid couldn't have been older than seven. He stepped off the curb without looking, eyes glued to his phone. Kusuo had seen the car swerving two blocks down.
He'd thought someone else would handle it. There were other people on the street, closer to the kid, so Kusuo kept walking.
But the kid didn't stop and Kusuo's legs moved before his brain caught up. He shoved the kid back onto the sidewalk, then the impact hit, and the world flipped sideways.
After that, nothing.
-----
He was sitting in a chair.
The realization came slowly. He could see a desk in front of him; behind it sat a person in a faded gray hoodie, holding a coffee mug and staring at a computer screen covered in symbols that made Kusuo's eyes hurt when he tried to focus on them.
The person sighed and took a sip of coffee.
Kusuo waited.
The silence stretched. He looked around, the room was small without windows, lit by lights. There were filing cabinets against one wall and a dying potted plant on top of one. The air smelled like coffee.
"Am I dead?" Kusuo asked.
"Oh. You're awake." The person still didn't look up. "Took a second. You died kinda weird."
Kusuo blinked. "Kinda weird."
"Yeah. The timing was off, and the Impact should've killed you instantly, but your body held on for another two minutes. Messed up the transfer protocol." They clicked something on the screen. Anyway. Yeah, you're dead. Ugh, your file's a mess. You weren't supposed to die for another thirty years. Someone screwed up the scheduling."
"You were flagged for a natural death at sixty-three. Heart failure, probably. Instead, you got hit by a car at sixteen." They scrolled through something, squinting. "Which means you're off the manifest, and now I have to figure out where to put you."
"Put me where?"
"Reincarnation or whatever you want to call it. You died early, so you get shuffled into a gap somewhere else. Happens all the time. The system auto-assigns based on… I don't know, compatibility? Energy signature? I just processed the paperwork."
Kusuo leaned back in the chair in awe.
No way this is real," he said.
"Let's see… you're flagged for psychic potential. Huh. That's unusual. Your next life will have access to abilities tied to mental or spiritual energy. Telekinesis, telepathy, that kind of thing. It's rare. Most people just get a standard reset." They clicked a few more times. "Okay, system's assigning you now. Should be… yeah, there we go. Reality shift confirmed. You're being bumped to an alternate Earth. Superhuman population, quirk-based society. You'll fit right in."
"Oh my god, I'm getting isekai into my Hero Academia."
"Yeah.." Then they waved a hand, and the room began to dissolve at the edges and the walls started flickering. "Oh, and you might remember this conversation later or not it depends on how the transfer goes."
The chair then disappeared beneath Kuseo.
He fell through noise and color and something that felt like being pulled apart and stitched back together at the same time.
_________
Three years passed in a blur.
Kusuo learned to navigate his new life. His parents, Saiki Himari and Saiki Takumi, were good people. They were very loving parents, but they wanted the best for him, which meant they had expectations.
The Saiki family specialized in esper quirks. His father had been the number one hundred hero with telekinesis that could move objects within a ten-meter radius. His mother had peaked at one hundred fifty with remote viewing that let her perceive distant locations. Both had retired after marriage to focus on their arranged quirk marriage; it was a gamble between two esper bloodlines to produce something stronger.
Kusuo was supposed to be that something.
Kusuo spent those three years learning. He read his parents' library cover to cover, quirk theory, hero history, and combat tactics. He watched the news, tracked hero rankings, and memorized names and faces.
The Saiki bloodline went back four generations of documented quirk users. All of them had variations on mental abilities, telekinesis, clairvoyance, and telepathy. None of them was particularly strong. His great-great-grandfather had been ranked three hundred. His great-grandfather had peaked at two hundred, and his grandfather at one hundred fifty. His father at one hundred.
It was small improvements over the course of generations, but it was never enough to even get past the lower mid tiers of heroes.
The quirk marriage had been consensual. Both families wanted a child who could finally elevate their status and someone who could make the Saiki name mean something in the hero world. His parents had agreed to it, and somewhere along the way they'd fallen in love.
Kusuo had died once doing something heroic. The memory of saving the kid didn't fill him with regret, just a kind of acceptance. He'd acted on impulse and broken his own rule about staying uninvolved, and it had cost him everything.
He wasn't interested in making a career out of it.
But he wasn't going to lie about what he could do either. When his quirk manifested, whatever it turned out to be, he'd deal with it. Use it when necessary but just wouldn't go out of his way to show it off.
Quirks typically appeared between ages four and five, triggered by strong emotion or stress. The god or whatever they was had been very clear he was flagged for psychic potential. The question wasn't if he'd have a quirk, but what psychic abilities exactly would he have and how would he handle them.
On October first Kuseo turned four.
His parents threw a small party, it was just family, some neighbors and a few kids from the area. There were cakes and presents though the presents was usless as it was just toys and he didn't even get to pick which toys, what a bummer.
-----
Three weeks later, Kusuo woke up to his mother screaming from downstairs.
Kusuo threw off his blankets and ran to downstairs. His father was already in the hallway, running toward the stairs. "Himari!"
They reached the kitchen doorway at the same time.
Himari stood in the center of the room, staring at the ceiling with her hands over her mouth.
Every object in the kitchen was floating.
All of it hung in midair, rotating slowly in circles. The refrigerator door was open, and items were drifting out one by one, milk, eggs, vegetables, joining the rest of the objects.
But it wasn't just the kitchen.
Kusuo looked back down the hallway. Picture frames had lifted off the walls. A coat rack was hovering near the front door. Through the doorway to the living room, he could see books floating off the shelves, the TV remote suspended in midair, and couch cushions rising in the air.
Everything in the house was floating.
His father turned to him, eyes wide. "Kusuo… is that you?"
Kusuo looked at his hands. They were shaking. He tried to focus on the objects and tried to will them to stop but they didn't listen, they just spun faster.
The coffee maker crashed into the refrigerator and the plates shattered against the ceiling. It was getting worst before he knew it his whole house would be destroyed
"Kusuo," his father said, "Look at me. You need to calm down," Takumi said, stepping closer. "Whatever you're doing, it's tied to your emotions. If you panic, it'll only get worse."
His father was in front of him now, kneeling, hands on his shoulders. "Listen to my voice. In through your nose, out through your mouth, slowy."
Kusuo tried and breathed.
"Good, again."
Another breath but it was slower this time.
The objects then stopped spinning and was just suspended in the air now and throughout the house everything went still.
"One more time."
Kusuo breathed In through his nose and out through his mouth. His heartbeat was starting to slow and the pressure inside him was fading, pulling back.
Then the entire house shook with the sound of everything dropping at once.
Kusuo's legs gave out but his father caught him before he hit the floor.
"It's okay Kusuo." Takumi said, pulling him into a hug. "It's going to be just okay.
Over his father's shoulder, Kusuo saw his mother. She was staring at the wreckage of the kitchen, in awe of something, I wonder what it was.
She looked past the kitchen, then back at Kusuo looking shock.
"The whole house," she whispered. "Takumi, it was the whole house."
Himari crossed the room and knelt beside them, wrapping her arms around both of them.
"It's alright," she said, voice shaking. "We'll figure this out, together
-----
They spent the rest of the morning cleaning up.
His father used his own telekinesis to lift the larger pieces of debris while Himari swept up the smaller shards. Kusuo sat at the kitchen table, watching them, neither of them had said much since it ended.
Himari set the broom against the wall and joined Kusuo at the table. "We should call Dr. Hiro, he specializes in quirk manifestation counseling."
"Already on my list," Takumi said as he join the table as well. "We'll also need to register with the government and file the paperwork to get his quirk documented
Himari then turned to Kusuo. "How do you feel baby? does anything hurt? Your head, your body?"
"I'm fine just little tired."
"That's normal. She then stood up and walked to the pantry, coming back with a protein bar. "Eat this. You need to keep your strength up."
Kusuo took the bar and unwrapped it. The chocolate tasted like cardboard, but he ate it anyway.
His father pulled out his phone. "I'll call Dr. Hiro now. See if he can fit us in today or tomorrow."
"And I'll start on the registration paperwork." Himari stood, then paused. "Kusuo, I need you to stay in your room for the rest of the day. Don't try to use your quirk or think about it, just rest baby."
"Okay."
She kissed the top of his head and walked toward the home office.
Takumi was already on the phone. "Yes, this is Saiki Takumi. I need to schedule an appointment for my son. His quirk manifested this morning."
Kusuo pushed the protein bar wrapper aside and walked toward the stairs, listening to his father's half of the conversation.
"Four years old with a large-scale manifestation of telekinesis. It affected the entire house. Yes, I understand. How soon can you see him?"
Kusuo room looked normal, thankfully it hadn't got affected by the damage he caused.
Kusuo sat down on the edge of his bed and stared at his hands, reminiscing about how he felt during the manifestation, when everything was floating, he'd felt connected to every object in the house like they were extensions of his own body.
And he knew, with absolute certainty, that telekinesis wasn't his only ability.