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

The day after the incident with the villain, life felt both familiar and different.

My mother was more cautious than ever, holding my hand a little tighter when we went outside. My father, on the other hand, had been quieter than usual, as if he were lost in thought.

I couldn't stop thinking about the Save and Load System. While it had saved my life, I didn't fully understand it yet.

Questions buzzed in my mind: How far could it rewind? Were there limits? Could I control when to create save points?

But before I could delve into that mystery, my father called me into the living room.

Dmitri sat on the couch, his towering frame making the furniture look small. His snow-white hair gleamed under the afternoon light, and his piercing blue eyes fixed on me with a serious yet kind expression.

"Renjiro," he began, his voice steady. "I want to talk to you about what happened yesterday."

I nodded, sitting down across from him.

"I wasn't there when it mattered," he said, his jaw tightening briefly. "And while I arrived in time to stop the villain, it's clear that the world is dangerous, even for someone as young as you."

He leaned forward slightly, his expression softening. "I want to ask you something important. Do you want to train with me?"

"Train?" I asked, tilting my head.

"Yes," he said. "Your quirk is powerful, but it's not enough on its own. A strong body and sharp reflexes are just as important for a hero. And," he added with a faint smile, "there's a good chance your quirk carries some remnants of my Titan Strength quirk factor. If that's true, training will help unlock your full potential."

I blinked, taking in his words. A part of me hesitated. I was only four, after all, and the idea of rigorous training was intimidating. But then I thought about Nejire.

I thought about my mother, risking herself to save others. And I thought about the powerlessness I felt when the villain attacked.

"I'll do it," I said firmly, meeting his gaze.

Dmitri's smile widened slightly. "Good. But let me be clear—I won't force you to do this. If you ever feel it's too much, you can stop. Understood?"

"Yes, Papa," I said, determination filling my chest.

…

The next morning, Dmitri took me to a dojo on our estate.

It wasn't the original family dojo back in Russia, but a Japanese-style replica Dmitri had commissioned when my parents moved to Japan.

Despite its modern construction, it carried the same traditional elegance, with polished wooden floors, intricate latticework on the windows, and walls lined with practice weapons.

"This dojo is modeled after the one where I trained with my father," Dmitri said as we stepped inside. "It's where I learned discipline, strength, and respect for my quirk. Now it's your turn."

He turned to me, his towering figure imposing yet reassuring. "First rule of training," he said, his deep voice steady, "respect your body. Push it, but don't break it. Your mother can heal you, and your quirk can help you recover, but over-reliance on them weakens discipline."

I nodded, feeling the weight of his words.

…

The first few days were grueling.

Dmitri started with the basics—stretches, balance exercises, and strength drills that pushed my small body to its limits.

He explained that the human body and quirks were like muscles; the more they were used, the stronger they became.

At first, I struggled to keep up. My muscles ached, my breaths came in short gasps, and sweat dripped from my brow. But every time I felt like giving up, Dmitri's voice rang out, firm yet encouraging.

"Good, Renjiro. One more push. You're stronger than you think."

In time, I began experimenting with my Restoration quirk during training.

Dmitri suggested I try using it on myself—not to revert my body to a previous state, but to speed up the natural healing process.

It was tricky at first, but I eventually managed to soothe minor muscle tears and ease the soreness in my limbs.

…

One afternoon, while I was practicing push-ups under my father's watchful eye, a familiar voice rang out from the dojo's entrance.

"Renjiro! What are you doing here?"

I looked up to see Nejire standing in the doorway, her blue eyes wide with curiosity. She held a small bag of snacks, likely on her way to visit me at home.

"Training," I said simply, wiping sweat from my forehead.

"Training?" she repeated, stepping inside. "That looks so cool! Can I join?"

Before I could respond, she turned to my father with a hopeful grin. "Please, Mister Volkov? I want to be a hero too!"

Dmitri raised an eyebrow, then chuckled softly. "Why not? But if you join, you'll follow the same rules as Renjiro."

"Deal!" she said, tying her hair back into a ponytail.

From that day on, Nejire became my training partner. Her energy and enthusiasm made the sessions livelier, and she pushed me to work harder.

Dmitri gave her pointers on balance and precision, helping her refine the control of her Wave Motion quirk.

"Your quirk is powerful, Nejire," Dmitri said one day as he watched her practice. "But raw power without control can be dangerous. Focus on directing your energy with intent."

"Yes, sir!" she replied, her hands glowing with spirals of energy.

…

Weeks turned into months, and training became a part of my daily routine.

My body grew stronger, my reflexes sharper, and my Restoration quirk more refined.

I discovered new ways to use it, like repairing objects mid-destruction or even creating small protective barriers by restoring broken debris into solid walls.

Nejire's progress was equally impressive. Her control over her quirk improved dramatically, and she began to experiment with combining it with physical attacks, creating small shockwaves to enhance her punches.

"Renjiro!" she called out one evening as we packed up after training. "When we grow up, let's be heroes together, okay? Like a team!"

I smiled, nodding. "Yeah. A team."