MHA: Save And Load System, Becoming All Might's Perfect Successor!

Nejire was like a storm that swept into my life, full of energy and endless questions. She wasn't just curious—she was insatiable.

Every day, she wanted to know something new, try something different, or ask something I hadn't even considered.

"Renjiro, what happens if you use your quirk on something that isn't broken? Like… could you make something more perfect than it already is?" she asked one afternoon while sitting cross-legged on the floor of our living room.

I blinked at her, genuinely stumped. "I… don't think it works like that. My quirk restores things, not upgrades them."

She tilted her head, her wavy blue hair swaying slightly. "But what if you tried? Maybe you could make, like, a super vase that doesn't break at all!"

"I don't think that's how quirks work," I said with a laugh, but her enthusiasm was infectious. "Why don't you show me your quirk instead? You've seen mine enough already."

Her eyes lit up like fireworks. "Really? Okay! Watch this!"

Nejire hopped to her feet, her hands extending outward. She closed her eyes in concentration, and faint spirals of shimmering golden energy began to swirl around her palms.

With a shout of excitement, she unleashed a small wave of energy at a stack of toy blocks we had been playing with.

The blocks scattered everywhere, clattering against the floor.

"Ta-da!" she said proudly, spinning on her heels. "Cool, right?"

I clapped, genuinely impressed. "Yeah, that's amazing! You can destroy things way faster than I can fix them."

She laughed, clearly pleased with the compliment, but her smile quickly faded as she adjusted her stance, hands still glowing faintly with residual energy. One of the blocks had rolled toward my foot, and without thinking, she raised her hand slightly to gesture at it.

"Oops, let me grab that—" she began, but the lingering energy in her palm flickered unexpectedly, releasing a small pulse before she could stop it.

The wave struck my ankle, sending a faint tingling sensation up my leg. It wasn't painful, but it was surprising enough to make me stumble backward.

"Oh no! Are you okay?" Nejire gasped, her hands flying to her mouth as she rushed over. "I didn't mean to! It just… slipped out!"

I waved her off, brushing imaginary dust from my pants. "I'm fine, really. It didn't hurt at all."

She looked unconvinced, her wide eyes scanning me for any signs of injury. "You're sure? I didn't mess up your leg or anything, did I?"

I crouched down to pick up the block, offering her a reassuring grin. "Nope. And even if you did, I could probably just fix it anyway. Perks of my quirk, remember?"

That earned a giggle from her. "You're lucky. My quirk can only mess things up—I mean, for now. But yours can make everything better. It's so cool."

Her words made me pause for a moment. I hadn't thought of it like that before.

My quirk did seem almost tailor-made to fix mistakes, to undo damage. For someone who'd spent their first life feeling powerless, it was a comforting realization.

"Maybe," I said, handing her the block, "but your quirk is pretty awesome too. You can do things I can't. Like knocking over a whole stack of blocks with one shot."

Nejire beamed at that, and the weight of her earlier guilt seemed to lift. "Okay, okay! Let's try something else!"

It was this relentless enthusiasm of hers that led to what she called "Hero Training."

The name was ambitious, but in reality, it was just an elaborate game. To her, though, it was serious business.

One afternoon, she tied a scarf around her shoulders like a makeshift cape, her eyes gleaming with determination. "Alright, here's the deal: you're the support hero, and I'm the one who fights the villains!"

I raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. "Why am I the support hero? I can fight villains too, you know."

"But you're better at fixing things," she said, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. "So after I defeat the villains, you can heal all the people they hurt. See? Teamwork!"

I couldn't help but chuckle at her reasoning. "Fine. What's the mission?"

She pointed dramatically toward a pile of stuffed animals we had set up earlier as our "civilians." "The evil Blockhead Gang has taken these poor people hostage! But don't worry, because we're here to save the day!"

Before I could even respond, Nejire launched into action, sending a flurry of energy waves at the "villains." The stuffed animals flew in every direction, tumbling across the floor with little thuds.

"Take that, Blockhead Gang!" she shouted, clearly enjoying herself.

When the chaos settled, she turned to me with a triumphant grin. "Okay, now it's your turn. Fix them!"

I sighed but knelt down to gather the toys. Concentrating, I used my quirk to straighten out any bent ears or loose stitching caused by her attacks.

It was a small effort, but the way Nejire clapped and cheered made it feel like I'd just saved an actual city.

"You're the best support hero ever!" she declared, throwing her arms around me in a spontaneous hug. "I'd totally want you on my team if we were real heroes."

I couldn't help but smile at her words. "And I'd want you on mine."

The more we played these games, the more I realized that they weren't just play for Nejire. To her, they were preparation.

Every time she sent a new wave of energy or dreamed up a new villain scenario, I could see how seriously she took the idea of becoming a hero.

But it wasn't just her ambition that stood out—it was her heart.

One evening, as we sat on the grass in my backyard, the stars twinkling above us, she turned to me with an unexpectedly serious expression.

"Do you think we'll really become heroes one day?" she asked softly.

I glanced at her, surprised. "Of course we will. Why wouldn't we?"

She shrugged, her usual energy dimmed for a moment. "I don't know. It just seems so far away. And there are so many people with cooler quirks than ours."

I frowned at that. "Your quirk is amazing, Nejire. And so are you. You're going to be a hero that everyone looks up to, just wait."

Her smile returned, softer this time. "Thanks, Renjiro. And you're going to be a hero too. The best one ever."

Looking back on that moment, I realized it was the first time I'd truly felt like I belonged in this world.

Nejire didn't just see me as someone with a cool quirk—she saw me as a partner, a teammate, and a friend.

For someone who had spent their first life feeling like an outsider, that meant everything.