Sasaki Kenjiro parted ways with Midoriya at the intersection, waving lazily as his friend trudged off toward his apartment, shoulders heavy but eyes still burning with resolve. The late afternoon sun bled orange across the horizon, casting long shadows over the buildings of Musutafu.
Kenjiro stood for a moment, watching him go.
"Still standing, huh?" he thought with a smirk. "Good. That fire's still lit."
He turned and began walking, the city's usual background noise washing over him—children laughing from a nearby park, the drone of traffic, snippets of conversation from passersby.
"…I'm telling you, All Might himself swooped in!"
"No way! Like, the All Might?"
Kenjiro passed two middle schoolers gushing over their phones, one of them waving a blurry photo of the Symbol of Peace mid-punch. He kept walking, barely hiding his grin.
Then—
BOOM.
A concussive blast cracked through the streets like thunder. Kenjiro stopped cold, head whipping toward the source.
His enhanced hearing picked up the screams first. Sirens. Shouts. A woman crying out for someone named Taro.
A thick column of smoke curled into the sky just a few blocks ahead.
Kenjiro didn't hesitate.
"No way. No freaking way."
He sprinted, the world a blur of color and sound as his mochi-reinforced muscles carried him faster than most cars on the street.
---
Disaster in the Streets
By the time Kenjiro reached the scene, a crowd had gathered. Panic rippled through the onlookers as emergency workers pushed them back behind barricades hastily set up with tape and debris.
A woman sobbed into her husband's chest. A convenience store clerk stood frozen in the doorway, juice bottles clutched in both hands. Students in school uniforms gasped, several recording on their phones despite the pleas from nearby police.
And there, in the center of it all, was the sludge villain—again—looming like a grotesque shadow over the cracked pavement.
This time, the hostage wasn't Midoriya.
It was Bakugou Katsuki.
"Kacchan?!"
Kenjiro's eyes darted to the voice—Midoriya stood at the edge of the crowd, shaking, a haunted look in his eyes.
Bakugou writhed inside the villain, his explosions crackling weakly against the ooze. His face was red, eyes wide, teeth bared in a mix of rage and panic.
From the sidelines, pro heroes barked orders.
"Keep the civilians back!"
"We can't risk damaging the hostage!"
"Kamui, try binding it again from the side!"
Kamui Woods tensed, vines ready, but hesitated.
"I need a clear shot! He's too deep in!"
Kenjiro clenched his fists. "This wasn't supposed to happen again. Not like this."
And then—
Midoriya moved.
He didn't scream. Didn't warn anyone. Just ran.
Like lightning.
---
Deku's Leap
"Kid! What the hell are you doing?!" Death Arms roared.
People gasped. A woman dropped her phone.
"Is he crazy?!"
"That's a kid!"
Kenjiro's heart stopped. "Izuku…"
But Midoriya was already in motion, his bag sailing off his shoulder as he dove past a vine strike meant to contain the villain.
He ducked a wild sludge tentacle and leapt forward, slamming into the villain with everything he had.
The crowd screamed.
Bakugou's red eyes widened. "DEKU?!"
Midoriya didn't answer. He clawed at the sludge like a madman, fingers slipping, teeth gritted.
"Hold on! I've got you, dammit!"
"You absolute dumbass!" Bakugou roared, choking on slime.
Midoriya didn't stop. "You always act like you don't need saving, but look at you!"
The sludge villain growled in frustration, forming a massive tendril to crush them both.
And that's when the wind changed.
A sound like thunder cracked the air—
"TEXAS… SMASH!"
A golden blur exploded into the scene, the sheer wind pressure from All Might's punch blasting the villain apart in a maelstrom of force and displaced air.
Rain began to fall.
The crowd went dead silent.
Kenjiro let out a slow breath as All Might stood tall, the setting sun behind him, dripping sludge scattered in every direction.
The symbol of peace had arrived. And he'd seen everything.
---
The Crowd Reacts
"Holy crap…"
"That was… All Might saved him!"
"Did you see that kid? He jumped in without a Quirk!"
Civilians buzzed in awe and confusion. One old man muttered, "Reminds me of the Silver Age. When heroes had guts like that."
A little girl tugged on her dad's sleeve. "Daddy, I wanna be like him!"
The father, eyes still wide, simply nodded.
---
Quiet Recovery
Midoriya was on the ground, panting hard, sludge coating his uniform. Bakugou sat nearby, staring at him with an unreadable expression.
"Why'd you do that?" Bakugou's voice was low.
Midoriya coughed. "Because… you were gonna die."
"I didn't need saving."
"You did."
Bakugou looked away, jaw tight.
Kenjiro approached quietly, just as All Might landed beside the two boys.
"That was reckless, young man," All Might said, but his voice lacked reprimand. Instead, there was something else—curiosity… respect?
Midoriya looked up, stunned.
"But… thank you," All Might added, his tone softer.
Kenjiro grinned to himself. "There it is."
---
Later – Back at the Orphanage
The orphanage was dimly lit when Kenjiro returned. Dinner was over, the little ones asleep. Mrs. Tanaka sat in the living room, knitting and watching a cooking show.
"You're late, Kenji-kun," she said without looking up.
"Sorry, got caught up," he replied, slipping off his shoes.
"Was it those explosions?" she asked, glancing at him over her glasses. "The news said there was a villain incident."
"Yeah," Kenjiro muttered. "Midoriya and Bakugou were there."
Her needles paused. "Are they okay?"
He nodded. "They will be."
Kenjiro climbed the stairs, stepping carefully past the creaky one outside his room. He shut the door behind him and leaned against it.
Ten years. Ten years of waiting, planning, guiding fate just enough without tipping the balance.
He lay down, staring at the ceiling.
"Today was the real turning point. He earned it. He proved it."
But the secret he carried felt heavier than ever.
He whispered into the quiet.
"I swear… I'll never tell anyone I'm reincarnated. Not Midoriya. Not All Might. No one."
---
Meanwhile – A Hero's Doubt and Decision
On a distant rooftop, Toshinori Yagi hunched over, coughing violently, blood spattering his hand.
His muscle form flickered and vanished, leaving behind a skeletal frame. But his mind was still stuck on the image of a green-haired boy throwing himself at death.
"He moved without thinking… for someone else," Toshinori murmured. "Just like…"
He closed his eyes, remembering Nana Shimura's smile. The day she'd told him he was worthy.
Maybe this boy was too.
He stood, straightened his coat, and looked toward the night sky.
"Young man…"
He smiled.
"…I have an offer for you."