Death never gives warning.
For Kōri Aokiba, it was a fleeting moment between pain and nothingness.
It all started on a rainy night, typical of winter in Sapporo. The cold cut through to the bone, but it had never bothered him. At just 19 years old, he was used to the constant chill, almost as if it were part of his blood. Aokiba wasn't a special guy; at least, that's what he thought. His life consisted of studying, working part-time at a convenience store, and losing himself in role-playing games until the early hours. Nothing indicated that this night would be his last.
The storm had darkened the city. Walking home, his headphones blocked out the outside world, but not enough to prevent him from noticing hurried footsteps behind him. At first, he thought it was just someone else, trying to avoid the rain. But when a shadow slipped across the edge of his vision, the feeling of danger hit him hard.
"Hey, kid..." A voice, harsh and cold as steel, broke the silence.
Aokiba turned, and in that instant, he knew he was in trouble. Two men, hooded and armed, surrounded him. His heart raced, but he tried to stay calm.
"I don't want any trouble," he muttered, raising his hands. "I just want to go home."
But fate had other plans.
The gleam of a knife flashed in the rain. There was a struggle. Aokiba didn't scream. He didn't even have time. He felt the blade slice through his side, the warmth of blood mixing with the cold of the asphalt. He collapsed, his strength slowly draining away as the rain continued to fall, relentless.
The last thought that crossed his mind before everything went black was strange... almost peaceful:
"I wish I had another chance..."
When he opened his eyes, the cold was different. It wasn't the biting humidity of Sapporo. It was something much older, deeper.
Aokiba… no, he was no longer Aokiba.
The first sensation was the icy air filling his lungs, so cold it should have hurt… but it didn't. He blinked, the light of an unfamiliar ceiling blinding him for a moment. He was lying on a bed that was strangely warm, despite the cold surroundings.
He slowly sat up, his body feeling… different. Stronger. Lighter.
"Where… am I?" His voice sounded different, deeper, but also soft, like the crunch of fresh snow.
He got up and walked over to the nearest mirror. What he saw made his heart — or whatever was beating in his chest — stop.
The reflection was not that of Kōri Aokiba.
The young man in the mirror had long, bluish-white hair, down to his shoulders, with messy strands that looked like frost. His eyes, a glacial blue, glowed with a strange, almost supernatural light. His skin, pale but firm, had a faint cold glow, as if made of solid snow.
He touched his face, making sure it wasn't a dream. The skin was icy to the touch… and yet, it felt warm inside.
"This... isn't normal..." he whispered.
Reality hit like an avalanche: he was dead. He knew that. The knife, that rainy night… there was no surviving that. So, what was he doing here? Where was "here"?
Before he could process more, the door to the room burst open.
"Kōri! You're going to sleep in again!" A familiar, strong feminine voice echoed, though he didn't recognize it.
A girl, perhaps around his age, entered. She had jet-black hair and vibrant green eyes. Her school uniform clearly indicated they were in Japan, but something about her demeanor, the way she spoke, made Aokiba — or Kōri Yūrei, as it seemed he was called now — feel strangely at home.
"Are you okay?" she asked, stepping closer with concern. "You look pale… well, more than usual."
He opened his mouth to respond but didn't know what to say. He couldn't just explain that he had died and was now here, in a new body, with strange icy powers coursing through his veins.
"I'm… fine," he finally replied, trying to sound calm. "Just… a bad dream."
The girl sighed in relief.
"Well, hurry up, we're going to be late for U.A."
U.A.
The word sent a chill (ironically) down his spine. It couldn't be… but the pieces began to fall into place quickly.
The uniform, the name of the school… and now that he thought about it, the aesthetics of this world had a very familiar feel.
"Am I in... My Hero Academia?"
The idea was ridiculous… and yet, impossible to deny. Everything fit.
Kōri Yūrei… that was his new name. And by the strange strength he felt in his body, coupled with the constant cold sensation, he understood that he had a Quirk.
It didn't take long for him to discover it. Closing his eyes, he felt the ice flowing under his skin, like a frozen river. His breath became heavy, and when he exhaled, a gust of cold air came from his lips, forming frost crystals in the air.
"What… am I now?" he murmured, fascinated and terrified at the same time.
His heart pounded. This wasn't just a second chance. It was a new beginning, in a world where heroes existed… and now he had power too.
The question was… what would he do with it?