MHA REINCARNATION!

I floated on a cloud, weightless in a way I could never have imagined while alive. With each beat of my wings—a shimmering white that glimmered like the morning sun—I was reminded that I was no longer the boy from the streets of Musutafu. I was an angel now. I should have rejoiced, but as I gazed down over the vast, shimmering expanse of the world below, the weight of my heart seemed heavier than the heavens themselves.

Earth was still there, vibrant and alive, but I was not part of it anymore. My mother, Inko, her warm smile and radiant kindness burned in my mind. I remembered how she'd comforted me after training sessions, how her gentle voice had soothed me through the pain of my countless failures. The thought that she might be crying for me twisted my heart like a vise. I had always wanted to be a hero for her, to protect her and keep her happy. Now, in the afterlife, I was doing anything but.

"Deku," a calm voice pulled me from my spiraling thoughts. It was Yoichi Shigaraki, his ghostly figure materializing beside me, a figure who felt closer than a friend… a brother. "You need to let it go."

I turned to him, a storm brewing in my eyes. "How can I? They're down there, living their lives and grieving for me. I loved them, and now… now they're suffering."

"You didn't choose this," Kudo chimed in gently, his wings rustling in the celestial breeze. "Sometimes, we can't control our paths. But what matters is how they will remember you."

"The world continues," Bruce added, folding his arms, a contemplative look on his face. "Inko, your friends—they'll find a way to move forward, even if it hurts."

"But I should be there with them! They'll think I abandoned them," I said, a mix of anger and sorrow bubbling within me.

"That's not true!" Daigoro Banjo's voice broke through like a beacon. "Heroes don't abandon their loved ones. They inspire them to push on. You're not gone; you live on in their hearts."

I leaned my head back against the soft, pillowy cloud, my wings drooping slightly. I wanted to believe them. I wanted to bask in the light of their words, but as the sun dipped behind the clouds, shadows crept in. Fear clawed at the edges of my resolve.

"You don't understand," I whispered, tears pooling in my eyes. "I was their hope, their light. Now I feel like darkness—a burden."

The seven users of One for All surrounded me, their presence like a warm blanket. They didn't rush me or cast judgment; they simply listened as I confessed the suffocating guilt that wrapped around my heart, the shame of leaving them all behind.

"You are part of something greater now, Deku," Nana Shimura said softly. Her voice was rich with wisdom—a gentle reminder of the legacy we carried. "Your sacrifice wasn't in vain. You've given them a chance to remember joy."

"But—"

"Being a hero doesn't end with the physical," Hikage Shinomori interjected, his deep voice resonating with authority. "You've shifted into a different form of heroism. Now, you can watch over them. Guide them indirectly. Help them find strength within themselves."

I watched them—their faces holding understanding, their eyes reflecting the light of hope. But the shadows of doubt still loomed. "What good am I if I can't physically be there to help?" I asked, my voice a whisper now.

"You will never stop being a hero," En Tayutai said, stepping closer, his unwavering confidence wrapping around me like a protective aura. "Your essence is still intertwined with theirs. It always will be. You taught them through your actions."

As their words sank in, a small flicker of light ignited within me. I took a deep breath, the ethereal air filling my lungs. It was almost soothing, a refuge amidst my chaos. The hurt didn't vanish, but perhaps it could coexist with hope.

"Maybe I've been too focused on my pain," I admitted, feeling a fraction lighter. "I just wish things could've been different."

"You're allowed to feel, Deku," Yoichi assured me. "But don't forget to look at the beauty you've created. Your mom, your friends—they feel your love. That's what matters."

The clouds beneath me began to glow, reflecting the warmth of renewed purpose. My friends would go on, even if they carried a piece of their pain. They would laugh, love, and live again. I could be part of their memories, their strength, even from here.

And for the first time since my arrival in this afterlife, I allowed a small smile to break through my grief. Perhaps I wasn't just an angel sitting on a cloud; I was still a hero. One that existed in a different realm, ready to guide those I loved toward the light again.

Maybe, just maybe, this chapter wasn't the end—it was merely a new beginning.