Chapter 3: Playing with Fire
I stood in the middle of my room Izuku's room grinning like an idiot as the tiny flames danced in my palms. This was real. Not just some dream or glitch from slamming into this body. I had power now, and I was going to figure out every inch of it. The telekinesis was cool, sure, but fire? Fire was another level.
Let's see what I can do, I thought, narrowing my eyes at the flickering orange glow. I cupped my hands tighter, imagining the flame growing, shaping it. The heat tickled my skin, but it didn't burn just a warm hum, like holding a mug of tea. I pushed a little harder, and the fire condensed into a tight, spinning ball, about the size of a table tennis ball. It hovered an inch above my palm, perfect and bright.
Okay, that's step one, I thought, smirking. Now let's test it. I caught the fireball in my hand, closing my fingers around it like it was a toy. No sting, no scorch—nothing. I opened my hand again, the flame still flickering, and pressed it against my palm. Still nothing. Wait a second… am I fireproof? I held it closer, letting the edges lick my wrist, my forearm. Warm, yeah, but not hot. Not painful. A laugh bubbled up. Holy crap, I'm immune. This just keeps getting better.
I glanced around the room, eyes landing on the desk—still a mess from my earlier telekinesis flop. There, half-buried under a notebook, was an All Might action figure, plastic cape chipped from too many imaginary battles. Perfect. I grabbed it, brushing off the dust, and set it upright on the table. Time for a real test, I thought, stepping back two paces. I conjured another fireball, smaller this time, rolling it between my fingers like a marble. Aim, focus, throw.
I flicked my wrist, and the fireball sailed forward, streaking orange. It hit the All Might figure square in the chest. For a second, nothing—then a soft whoosh as the plastic caught fire. Flames licked up the cape, melting the arm into a gooey stump. I winced, but couldn't stop grinning. Oops. Guess I'm not keeping that one.
"Looks like Dad's Quirk evolved when I got it," I said to myself, watching the figure smolder. Hisashi's Fire Breath was just that—breathing fire, like some low-budget dragon. But this? This was control, creation, projectiles. I'm not just spitting embers—I'm making weapons, I thought, flexing my hands. Maybe the transmigration didn't just wake up Mom's Quirk. Maybe it remixed Dad's too, turned it into something bigger.
Speaking of Dad… I frowned, the thought tugging at me. In the anime, Hisashi was a ghost—mentioned once, then gone, off "working overseas" forever. I'd always assumed he'd ditched them, left Inko and Izuku to fend for themselves. But downstairs, Inko had said it so casually: "We need to call your dad. Hisashi's going to lose his mind." Like he was still around, still part of this. Maybe it's different here, I thought, leaning against the bed. Maybe he didn't abandon them in this version. Maybe I'll actually meet the guy.
The smell of soup drifted up from the kitchen, warm and savory, pulling me out of my room. I'd been pacing, the All Might figure's melted remains still smoking faintly on the desk. Enough experimenting for now, I thought, brushing soot off my hands. Time to face the music—or at least the soup. I headed downstairs, the wooden steps creaking under my feet, my mind still buzzing with fire and possibilities.
In the kitchen, Inko was bustling around, a pot simmering on the stove. She held a phone to her ear, her voice bright and bubbling. "Yes, Hisashi, it's true! He collapsed at first, scared me half to death, but then—oh, you should've seen it! The desk, his books, everything just floating!" She laughed, stirring the soup with her free hand. "And then it all crashed down, but still—he's got a Quirk!"
I froze in the doorway, piecing it together. Hisashi. Dad. She was talking to him, right now. Where is this guy? I racked my brain—or Izuku's brain, whatever this mash-up was. The anime only ever said he was "working overseas," some vague job excuse. But standing here, sifting through the kid's memories, I came up blank. No postcards, no late-night calls, no hints of a city or country. Just… out there. Why don't I know? I thought, frowning. Shouldn't I have something from him in here?
Inko glanced up, spotting me. Her face lit up, and she waved me over with a quick gesture. "Oh, he's here now! Hold on, Hisashi, I'll let you talk to him." She pulled the phone from her ear and held it out to me, beaming. "It's your dad, sweetie. He's so excited!"
My stomach dropped. Oh crap. I was in a pinch. I'd never met Hisashi—not in my old life, not in the show, and definitely not in this kid's fuzzy memory. I didn't even know what he sounded like. But Inko's eyes were sparkling, expectant, and there was no dodging this. I took the phone, my hand sweaty, and pressed it to my ear. "Uh… hello?"
A deep, warm voice crackled through the line, tinged with a laugh. "Izuku! My boy! Your mom's telling me you've turned into a little telekinetic terror, huh? Floating desks and all?"
I swallowed, forcing a smile he couldn't see. "Yeah, uh, something like that. It… happened this morning."
"Amazing!" Hisashi said, his enthusiasm booming. "I always knew you had it in you, kid. Took a while, but here you are! What's it feel like?"
"Weird," I said, half-honest. "Kinda cool, though. I'm still figuring it out."
"Well, you'll get the hang of it. Your mom's Quirk took her ages to control too—she used to pull spoons into her hair by accident." He chuckled, the sound rough but fond. "Hey, you holding up okay after that collapse? She said you weren't feeling great."
"I'm fine now," I lied, glancing at the floor. "Just needed a break."
"Good, good. Rest up, alright? We'll celebrate proper when I'm back. Maybe I'll show you a few tricks with my fire—see if you've got any of that in you too."
My ears perked up. He doesn't know yet. "Yeah, maybe," I said, keeping it vague. "When are you coming back?"
"Soon as I can wrap things up here. Work's a mess, but I'll make time. Gotta see my Quirked-up kid in action, right?"
"Right," I said, nodding to myself. "See you then."
"Take care, Izuku. Pass me back to your mom, yeah?"
"Sure." I handed the phone back to Inko, who took it with a grin and launched right back into her chatter.
"Hisashi, he's so calm about it, you'd think he's been doing this forever!" she said, stirring the soup again. "Oh, you should've seen the mess—books everywhere…"
I slid into a chair at the dining table, watching her. She was glowing, practically bouncing as she talked, a smile stretching ear to ear. That was… weird, I thought, replaying the call in my head. Hisashi sounded normal. Warm, even. Not some deadbeat who'd bailed, but a dad who cared—knew about Inko's spoon mishaps, wanted to celebrate me. He's not what I expected. The anime made him a footnote, a ghost. But here? He was real, present, even if he was halfway across the world. Guess I didn't just change Izuku's Quirk, I thought, leaning back. This whole family's different. Wonder what he'll say when he sees the fire.