A Step in a Mile

Surprisingly, being reborn into a fictional world had been a lot more normal than Marcus would have thought.

For the most part, the world functioned pretty much the same. Even the living arrangement of the household he would grow up in was standard to a certain extent. Two parents who worked, a german shepherd name Onigiri, his parents a young couple still in love, and most days being mundane and monotonous.

His 'Mother' had taken time off to raise him, while his 'Father' worked remotely to begin with. Thankfully, Marcus didn't have siblings, so much of the time was spent in silence or listening to the music his 'Mother' would play while she cleaned the house.

Unfortunately though, being a baby was borderline insanity, and the idea infuriated Marcus to no end.

However, there was not much he could do to change the fact, he was a baby after all.

The idea of gaining any semblance of his old independence he so loved was dashed the second one realized most of the normal things a human needed could not be done without his parents. Marcus needed his diaper changed by his 'Mother', with the occasional reluctant time from his 'Father', and much more. He had to be dressed by them, cleaned, taken care of, let them pick where and how he slept, what he ate, and even what entertainment he could consume.

The last one was akin to torture, because for a once twenty year old who was an avid cultured man of anime, being forced to watch the morning news and a cartoon show with weird deformed creatures sing horrible songs made him despair daily.

On the flip side though, despite his scorn for most things of his new baby life, there were a few bright lights in the dark tunnel that was his current situation.

Firstly, and the best, was honest to god superpowers.

It had been half a year since he had woken up in the world of My Hero Academia, and there were slight changes to society that Quirks brought with them he began to notice.

Most doors were just bigger, accommodating for mutant Quirks apparently, meals that seemed outright disgusting were eaten by those whose Quirks changed their appetites and physiology, most movies revolved around anything else but action since with super powers there was plenty to go around, sports took a nose dive in views and funding while being seen as a nothing more than a hobby for the rich, most laws of old were looser while ones for Quirks were air tight, and lastly, due to villains and heroes doing collateral damage, most fragile things like wood or cement were a stronger version of themselves created by enhancing Quirks and were just disguised as their regular counterparts.

It came as a surprise when he saw an explosion from a villain due little to no damage to the dainty flower shop while being just a mere few feet away.

It was the little things like these Marcus would discover that made it all the more real, especially the two people that would be raising him, much to his annoyance.

Sometimes, when he was forced to sit within his crib or stroller, he would watch his new 'parents' show how much they loved one another. The way they still blushed when they held hands as they walked in the park, the silly faces they would make to get him to laugh, or when they would sit on the couch together and cuddle while watching a movie.

He could not understand their words, but when they would smile, share a chaste kiss, tickle one another, or have heated arguments but laugh right after; he understood perfectly what they were.

They were people, not characters, not figments of his imagination, just humans living their lives.

Marcus in his previous life came from a shattered home put back together by scotch tape, and to be honest he only had a family in name alone, at least to him. His Father always looked at him weird after his Mother died giving birth to him, as if it was his fault despite him having no say in it.

There were often times when he would drink more than usual, have a looser tongue and no longer hide his hidden ire and would look at eight year old Marcus and speak without remorse.

"You were a mistake."

Those words had cut deep, but Marcus had also understood later on in his life that they weren't the wrong words, just the wrong time and place to say it. He had raised him still, did everything he could to keep Marcus safe, and never once laid his hands on him.

Although, if he did, the Marcus of now wouldn't blame him completely.

Imagine the person you loved, had spent seven years with, going through ups and downs, learning to communicate, growing together, but only to have it taken away in a day.

Then, to be reminded every second of your life with the reason why, as it stood their with her features as if to mock you.

On the other hand, his step mother was a stripper, but as age took hold and wrinkles and other things that makeup couldn't hide appeared, she had become homeless and without a job. The next step in her journey was drugs, and it was in this addiction she had met his Father. They had fallen in love, or had understood how shit their lives were and could find solace in mutual pain.

She had tried to make a connection with a ten year old Marcus, but when he would watch her take shots in her arm, bring unknown men home, or would disappear for weeks on end without a simple goodbye. Her efforts all became futile.

Marcus shut himself away because of how shitty his life was, knowing he was better off staying in his basement room and ignoring whatever his Father and new Mother did upstairs.

He could care less, or, he pretended he did.

So, when Marcus would see this world's parents almost every hour of his life, being happy and not anything like his old parents; he had the smallest inkling of hope.

It was also at that moment, whether he realized it or not, Marcus King had officially become Souta Sasaki. The grip of his old life loosening ever so slightly as he saw his 'Mother' hide her face in her husband's chest as a monster on screen jump scared them.

With this new found hope, life marched on, and idle days turned to long weeks, then to numbing months, and finally to almost blurred years.

Souta was two now, and he was realizing just how hard it was to change himself. He had thought it was easy to stop being the antisocial nobody of his old life with habits that would make others frown in disgust upon hearing.

How it should be easy not to go to food for comfort, to not think negatively about every little aspect in life, and how not to treat the people who were honestly trying to raise you like strangers.

Time was supposedly the best remedy, but some things had their claws dug too deep, hanging on without any remorse or care for how much he bled from the wounds they made.

Souta became a fat toddler, chubby being an understatement as he realized he could use his parents' love and affection to get him more food.

Though he had made sure to play the role of a child the best he could, he was not completely sure how one would act around this age without seeing it himself.

So, a few words there, a good amount of mistakes to be corrected here, and enough questioning to seem interested in the littlest things to understand how it worked did the trick.

However, most of the time he would laze about, unlike others his age who would have unlimited energy, and he would just mind numbingly watch cartoons or whatever was on since he couldn't reach the remote.

Souta found comfort in being nothing special, because honestly who cared about the My Hero Academia plot anyways, it was a shounen, they would figure it out without him.

Plus, as he had become intermediate with the Japanese language relatively quickly, he could now understand the conversations around him.

As a result, he heard the words that would make all the motivation he had plummet, discovering that both of his biological parents were Quirkless.

And, after sneaking his 'Mother's' phone away at night to do some research, he found out an even crueler truth.

When two Quirkless people had a child, weirdly enough it was guaranteed to have a Quirk, but the problem lay in the Quirk Factor.

It would not be powerful, since it hadn't been accumulating over generations of Quirks and was not directly taken from either parents. So, they would manifest simple and weak Quirks that would not become too powerful.

The ability to sense motion, minor strength enhancement, minor intelligent enhancement, or just sturdier skin.

They were never anything crazy, mundane was what they usually were described as, so being some protagonist who saved the day had been crossed off Souta's list relatively quickly.

After swallowing that pill, life continued on unabated for another two years, and Souta had only gotten worse.

He would become quick to anger when his parents tried to force him to hang out with mindlessly dumb four year olds, since going to school with them was already a pain. He would pig out with junk food, the strained smile on his parents' faces fuel to keep him doing it out of pettiness or whatever excuse he could make. They even tried to get him to have an interest in anything physical, seeing as he was only getting fatter, but that is when the tantrums would be on full blast.

So what? Who cared if he was acting like a man child? He could do whatever the hell he wanted with HIS life.

He didn't want this, he didn't want to be born in this fucking world. Souta wanted to see his real Father and apologize, to see the dumb faces of his friends he had loved despite them not liking him all that much, and to see Jessica again so he could amend his stupid mistakes.

He missed his little man cave in the basement, a place where he could go online and be whoever he wanted, to finally be free. No one cared enough to verify who he actually was, no one would bat an eye if he acted with confidence and told people he was handsome despite being a slob and ugly, and no one would expect anything great or tangible out of him.

It was good, to just give in to his urges without remorse and just let loose.

No longer thinking about the nagging question in the back of his head which he hated more than anything else since he could not get rid of it.

Why wasn't he dead?

What right did the douchebag who sent him here get to choose the direction of his life?

He should be the one to decide, not some pussy ass God who hadn't even had the gall to show its face to him or give Souta a choice.

Anger, Souta felt anger anytime he remembered his past life, and at times he wished he could forget. He was cursed to remember people who had lived yet did not exist in this world, always reminded of the fact he was nothing more than a fake.

A fraud.

Damnit, nothing had changed, he was still Marcus King.

Pathetic.

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[You have been Chosen]

Souta groaned, pulling the covers up and trying to block out the blue light that annoyingly hit him perfectly in the eyes. He was tired from watching videos all night on his tablet, aimlessly commenting stupid things to get reactions out of people.

He was going off maybe two hours of sleep, so he let English curses loose as he pried his eyes open and looked at the floating screen before him.

Souta yawned, made a quick guess he was possibly still dreaming, and turned to his side to go back to sleep.

However, before his eyes shut fully, he saw the screen stay oriented with his eyes, flipping vertically so he was still able to read it.

Throwing the covers off, shooting a quick glance to see the full moon through his window, letting out an exhale, and touching his own arm to confirm he was actually awake, Souta looked back at the screen in confusion.

What the hell?

[You have been Chosen Player.]

The words appeared as if someone was typing them, the cursor blinking at the end while Souta read the text slowly.

"What is this?"

[Before the Tutorial, Player, you must first choose your Character Traits.]

Souta was scrolling through possibilities in his mind, and only when he found a distant memory of reading those first words "You Have Been Chosen", did it all come together.

This was his Quirk, power, and or golden finger.

His breath hitched, and with some effort needed due to his overweightness, he sat up on the small bed he lay in. He watched the blue screen, took a testing look around his room to make sure he was alone, and mentally thought for the system or whatever to continue.

[ "A First Step in a Mile is always the easiest, here, it will be the hardest"

Pick one player.

-Gamer's Mind

Or

-Gamer's Body

]

His mind short circuited as he read all the screen had to offer, and for a good minute or so he sat simply staring. Although he needed to choose, Souta instead focused inward on himself, to look back on the four years he had spent in this world.

Did he not say in the beginning he wanted this life to mean something, to not slip back into his horrible habits and be the same as his old life?

Had he not had determination back then, where did it all go, wasn't he just a hypocrite?

"Another time." He whispered to himself, knowing he had more pressing issues to deal with, likely the fact the floating screen in front of him gave him one of the hardest choices in his life.

If he ever had a chance to be worth something, then this power before him was his ticket, the spark to ignite the fire.

To be worth something.

"Now, which to choose…."