Ren Takahashi woke to the faint hum of electricity and the distant echo of voices somewhere beyond the walls. For a few seconds, he didn't move. He lay still, staring at a white ceiling illuminated by soft morning light, his mind struggling to catch up with his senses.
This wasn't his room.
That was the first thought that settled in.
The bed beneath him was too firm. The air smelled faintly of detergent and metal. When he turned his head, he saw a neatly organized desk, a wardrobe with identical uniforms hanging inside, and a large window revealing a sprawling campus bathed in early sunlight.
A campus he recognized instantly.
U.A. High School.
His breath caught.
"No… that's not possible," Ren muttered, his voice coming out hoarse, unfamiliar—slightly deeper than he remembered.
He sat up abruptly, his heart pounding. The movement sent a strange sensation through his body, like electricity crawling beneath his skin. He looked down at his hands. They were leaner, stronger. His arms carried a quiet definition that his old body never had.
A mirror hung on the opposite wall.
Ren stood on unsteady legs and approached it slowly, each step filled with a growing sense of dread and anticipation. When he finally looked at his reflection, he froze.
The face staring back at him wasn't his old one.
Short black hair fell messily over sharp but calm eyes. His features were clean, youthful, and unfamiliar—yet somehow felt right, as if they had always belonged to him. His body was taller, broader in the shoulders, wearing a neatly pressed U.A. dorm uniform.
Ren Takahashi.
The name surfaced in his mind naturally, as if it had always been there.
Memories followed.
Not his memories—but his now.
A quiet transfer student. Recently enrolled. Quirk unregistered publicly. Background vague. No close friends yet.
And then came the final realization, heavy and undeniable.
He hadn't just come to this world.
He had transmigrated into it.
Ren leaned both hands against the desk, exhaling slowly. Years of watching, reading, analyzing this world from the outside clashed violently with the reality of standing inside it. Heroes. Villains. Quirks. Life-and-death battles disguised as school exercises.
This wasn't a story anymore.
A knock echoed at the door.
Ren straightened instinctively. "Come in."
The door slid open, revealing a familiar figure with messy green hair and wide, earnest eyes.
"Ah—sorry! I didn't mean to interrupt," Izuku Midoriya said quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I just wanted to check if you were settling in okay. Aizawa-sensei said you'd be joining us today."
So it was real. Really real.
"I'm fine," Ren replied after a brief pause, choosing his words carefully. "Just… adjusting."
Midoriya smiled, relief clear on his face. "That's good! It can be overwhelming at first. U.A. kind of throws you into things."
Ren nodded. If only he knew how true that was.
As they walked toward the main building together, Ren observed everything carefully—the training grounds, the students passing by, the subtle hum of quirks being used casually. Every detail matched the world he remembered, but being here gave it a weight no screen ever could.
They reached Class 1-A just as the bell rang.
Inside, the room buzzed with energy.
Loud voices. Laughter. Arguments already starting.
Ren stepped in behind Midoriya, and instantly felt eyes turn toward him. Curiosity, interest, mild suspicion—it was all there.
"Oi, who's the extra?" a sharp voice called from the back.
Ren didn't need to look to know who it was.
Before he could respond, a softer voice spoke up.
"He must be the transfer student," Ochaco Uraraka said, smiling brightly. Her eyes met Ren's for a brief moment, and something warm stirred in his chest. "Welcome!"
"Yeah, welcome," another voice added lazily from the window seat.
Ren offered a polite nod. "Ren Takahashi. Nice to meet you."
Introductions followed quickly, blending together as names he knew all too well became faces in front of him. Despite the noise, Ren felt strangely calm. He answered questions without revealing too much, instinctively avoiding details that didn't exist.
When homeroom began, Aizawa entered as casually as ever, tossing a look at Ren that lingered just a second too long.
"So you're the transfer," he said flatly. "Sit. We'll evaluate you later."
Ren did exactly that.
Classes passed in a blur—notes, explanations, demonstrations of quirks. Ren listened more than he spoke, absorbing information while quietly testing the unfamiliar sensation humming inside his body.
Something was there.
Something powerful.
It felt restrained, coiled tightly, as if waiting.
During lunch, Ren found himself seated across from Uraraka, almost by accident. She chatted easily, asking simple questions, laughing at small things. There was an openness to her that felt disarming, genuine.
"You're surprisingly calm," she said suddenly, resting her chin on her hand. "Most people freak out their first day."
Ren smiled faintly. "I guess I'm good at hiding it."
Her eyes softened. "If you ever need help, you can ask me."
The words were simple, but the sincerity behind them lingered long after lunch ended.
As the day drew to a close, Ren stood alone on one of the balconies overlooking the training grounds. The sun dipped low, painting the sky in warm shades of gold and red.
This world was dangerous.
He knew what was coming. The villains. The losses. The moments where heroes would be pushed past their limits.
And yet…
Ren clenched his fist, feeling that quiet power respond.
If this world thought he was just another student—another background character—it was mistaken.
He didn't come here to watch.
He came here to protect.
And if anyone threatened the people he cared about…
Ren's eyes darkened, a calm resolve settling deep in his chest.
This world had no idea what it had just awakened.