1 Adapt to and overcoming the reality

"Well, crapbaskets."

Inside his room was a young man with dark hair and crimson eyes, with a light scar visible on his eyelid. This young man's name was Kirishima Eijiro. Three nights ago, he woke up from his sleep with memories of a life he never knew.

The first day, he called it a wild dream and went on as usual. On the second day, curiosity got the better of him, and he searched for things he did not know about. On the third day, he suffered a panic attack while coming to terms with this knowledge, the life he had previously lived in a quirkless world, and his life being adapted to an anime.

"I can't believe I've been transmigrated, or is it reincarnation? I guess every soul is reincarnated, but no one remembers the past. That's the difference."

Eijiro moved to the edge of his bed. The memories of his past life had changed his view slightly, but down there he was still himself, only with a wider outlook and future knowledge of events.

It was hard to understand and cope with his memories, but with time, he managed to calm down.

'Can I become number one?' He doubted himself, remembering what his interpretation in his past life was: It feels like the odds are against me.'

'Nine months until the UA entrance exams,' to him, meant the story had kicked off and All might have chosen his successor.

Eijiro hung his head down. Moments passed before he raised his hand.

-Smack!

"TO HELL WITH THIS, THAT IS NOT HOW MY STORY WILL GO. WHO CARES ABOUT FLASHY QUIRKS? I'LL WORK HARD AND BECOME NUMBER ONE OR THE BEST HERO THERE'S EVER BEEN WITH MY SPIRIT!"

He roared, finding a new spirit. Those memories didn't bring him down but rather praised him and his spirit.

He wouldn't let the fact that part of his life was in an anime dictate his limits and future, and he was right, as the anime and manga never mentioned his parents.

Both of whom have a mom and a dad, Rio! And Giantomachia had no relation to him whatsoever; for that reason, his future wasn't set in stone, and even if it were, he'd break that stone into pieces!

-Knock! -Knock! -Knock!

"Eiji, is everything alright? I heard screaming," a female voice said from outside his room.

"Ah, sorry, Mom, I'm fine," he said. Opening the door, there stood a taller woman with shoulder-length dark hair and black eyes.

Seeing he wasn't hurt, she sighed, "Please think before you shout. I nearly had a heart attack."

"Hehe sorry."

"At least you're fine, so are you going to train for UA?" She asked with a grin and the same shark-like teeth he had.

'Right, I've got a little over nine months until the entrance exam,' he thought, forming a plan before nodding to himself.

"Not today, Mom. I'm going to stay in and do some research, but I'll be back to it soon. Also, I want to join a club for the summer."

She tilted her head in thought and said, "Oh? A club, what kind?"

"Martial arts kind. I'll look for one but let you know as soon as possible," he grinned, patting his chest.

"Sweetie," she smiled and pulled him in for a hug, "don't push yourself too hard, okay? I know how hard it was for you."

"I know, Mom, don't worry too much."

"Hehe, I'm your mom; it's what I do!" She pulled back, brushing his hair. "I'll go wake up your father, so take your time and come down when you're hungry." She ended with a small kiss on his temple and left.

Eijiro turned to face a poster of his favourite hero, Crimson Riot. He steeled his fists, the last hints of self-doubt washing away from him.

"Time to set goals." He got to his desk and pulled out a notebook, jotting down all he knew about his quirk and where to improve.

[Manly Quirk Manual]

Quirk: Harden (The power to harden and sharpen the skin and parts of the body, causing the flesh to become jagged and rock-like): with each hit, its strength and durability increase.

Harden (enhanced strength and speed) and sharpen Hand blades and claws (Fit for combat or climbing walls) Growing hair should allow me to harden it and use it to make tools or shields of some kind.

resistant to most physical trauma, burns, electrocution, and acid, but still feeling the effects.

Level 1: Bulletproof: full-body armour strong enough to take bullets and minor explosions head-on. No sacrifice to speed [Current goal]

"I should use this to spilt my forms; now that I know how my quirk works, I can train more effectively; I should reach Bullteproff in a month or less; and for my hair, products exist to make it grow longer."

He started chewing on his pen before noting even further paths he could take.

Level 2: Chivalrous Knight! Further improved hardening to specific areas like calves, arms, and chest, leaving gaps like knight's armour. Greater durability while sacrificing a little speed but boosting strength as well. [Experimental Goal]

Further Goal: Level 3 > Red Riot Unbreakable [Further goal]

"Alright then, I think this should be it for now. It's more of a theory, but it should be possible to do something between bulletproof and unbreakable. With enough practice, I would be able to do more."

He smiled to himself and decided to create a mission for himself.

Mission: Reach level 1 hardening in one month. Grow excess hair like Super Saiyan Three to form a shield lance or other tools with Harden. [Take fighting classes and take on swimming to improve stamina and breath.]

"This should be enough. Heh, my quirk is kind of simple, but that's fine. The simpler it is, the easier it is to get stronger!"

He grinned, hopping on his laptop and seeing fan art of Crimson Riot as his opening screen. He searched for dojos to learn martial arts and anything to help grow more hair.

"It took a while," he sighed, looking at the 11 a.m. He spent two hours searching and found some products that increase hair growth. There was nothing for instant growth; rather, these took time. The one he found had a guaranteed average of 2 cm of growth per week.

And for dojos nearby, he found a few, but he wasn't exactly sure which one he needed; his fighting style must allow him to take any hit and bring back just as many, "maybe karate or boxing."

With that, he stood up and went downstairs, where he saw his father, who shared the same hairstyle with crimson eyes. His quirk was a Rock fist; he could transform his fists into rocks, and his mother's quirk was transforming rubber.

'If it was like Luffy's quirk, it'd be pretty awesome,' he chuckled, smiling. "Good morning, Dad."

"Eiji, I heard you're not going to train today?" he asked, drinking from his cup.

"No, I just wanted to set some goals and a training schedule. That's all."

"A schedule? What do you have in mind?" He asked.

"Here," Eijiro handed a small list he'd made of what he'd be doing. The only thing that needed help was the Karate or Boxing club he'd join. The hair-extending thing he already bought himself with his allowance

His mother walked in over his dad's shoulder; they were talking in whispers while he sat down and had breakfast—eggs and bacon.

After conversing, both nodded and turned to him with shark-like grins, saying, Son, I'm glad you're taking this time seriously, and we'll support both clubs. Before you shout, it'll be for eight months."

His dad smiled and stood up, patting his chest, activating his quirk. "You'll have our full support, Crimson Junior!" His mom is also doing the same salute.

'Damn it, not the nickname,' he grumbled but smiled back, crimson junior, because he always played hero as Crimson Riot.

He stood up and hugged them both, saying, "Thank you, guys."

...

After some waiting, the doorbell rang: "It's mine!" He shouted and jumped downstairs, activating his quirk on his feet. He landed, absorbing the impact.

He grabbed his delivery and found a small box of hair growth gel. He read the label and decided to apply it tomorrow, 'so once a week is fine.'

"I still have plenty of time. Hey guys, I'm going out to start my training!" He shouted, putting on a quick black shirt and shorts.

"Alright, but be careful and make sure your phone's fully charged," Kushina yelled.

"Got it!" He said he was slamming the door.

He walked to a baseball field and found one of the fences with a baseball pitching machine. This would be the start of his training. The machine has varying levels, the highest of which he would work up to.

He started the machine and went to the other end. "I'm going to handle this," he grunted, hardening his Arms.

-Poof! -Bam!

The ball came, he punched it, another smashed it down, and the third he missed and got hit in the stomach.

At his current level, his hardening would only appear from his hands to his elbow, his forehead, and his ankles to his feet; it was too weak and too far from being bulletproof, but this training along with the others would help.

'Uh, I hate this already,' he grunted as another one came and kicked it back.

Some people passing by sent odd looks his way, but he kept at it till the night came. He made it more interesting by moving at the last minute or trying to harden the specific part of his body that was going to be hit.

But sadly, he didn't have that level of control and hit the balls, saying, "Urk! Ah, fuck me!" He and the men that were around to witness it winced.

This was the training of a man.