The first thing I noticed was the smell.
The scent of medicine. And flowers. Slightly sweet, like artificial petals mixed with the lingering aroma of disinfectant.
My eyes opened slowly, still heavy. The white ceiling light felt less harsh than I expected. Maybe it was because, for a brief moment, everything inside me was... silent.
I blinked a few times. I was lying down, covered by a white sheet, with a thin needle connected to my left arm, and the soft beep of the heart monitor echoed at spaced intervals—almost like a lullaby.
A hospital.
My mind took a moment to catch up. The last memories were fragmented — the bedroom, the pain in my eye, the light… and the voice. That soundless voice.
> [Superstar System: 100% synchronized.]
I took a deep breath. The air was fresh and light, but I felt a slight discomfort deep in my left eye, like an internal scar. Something that no longer hurt but was still there. Present.
I slowly turned my head to the side. An armchair beside the bed. Empty. The room curtain was slightly open, letting in the soft light of late afternoon. The sky was painted in shades of orange and gold.
Despite everything that had happened, I felt... calm.
No panic. No voices in my head. No symbols spinning madly. The system was quiet. As if waiting for me to take the next step.
I sat up slowly, my muscles weak, as if I'd been asleep for a long time. The monitor beeped faster for a moment, then returned to its normal rhythm.
The door opened gently.
It was my mother.
Her eyes met mine and filled with relief in an instant. She rushed to the bed and wrapped me in a tight but careful hug, as if afraid of hurting me.
"You scared me so much..." she whispered.
I closed my eyes for a moment, feeling the warmth of her embrace and the scent of cherry blossoms mixed with lavender.
And in that moment, even with all the unanswered questions, even with a mysterious system inside me, I simply hugged her back.
"I'll call the doctor to check on you," she said.
As I watched her leave, I did something I never thought I'd do in either of my lives.
"System," I whispered in my mind.
A silent notification lit up in front of me.
> [Superstar System: Active]
[Status: Stable]
[Integration complete.]
The glowing letters felt calm, but something was different now. A tab slowly expanded, like a flower opening under the morning sun.
> [Quirk: Superstar System]
Skill unlocked: Lifeweaver
You have become one with the cycle of nature. As an integration gift, you've received the ability to manipulate the life force of plants.
Passive skill activated.
Touch, listen, feel... and the roots will respond.
My chest tightened for a moment—not from pain, but from a strange emotion. Since being reborn in this world, I had always dreamed of doing something more, and now that dream had finally come true.
I glanced toward the plant in the corner of the room.
It was small, a half-withered fern in a cheap pot. Probably decorative.
I hesitantly reached out.
"Let's see if this is real…"
My fingers touched the leaf gently, and then I felt it.
Not just texture. Life.
Faint, but present. Like a held breath.
I closed my eyes, instinctively syncing with that rhythm.
My mind quieted, my breathing aligned with its own. And then, without warning, something flowed from me.
Not raw energy — but harmony.
The plant responded.
The yellowed leaves turned a vivid green, vibrant, as if they had just been born.
A new sprout emerged from the center, small and full of promise.
I opened my eyes, not fully understanding what I had just done.
"This is... Lifeweaver?"
Another notification popped up in the corner of my vision:
> [Interaction complete.]
[Vital Energy: Stable.]
I smiled, even if tired.
"Alright, system... let's see how far this goes."
But before I could explore the system any further...
"Haruki? You're awake?"
It was my mother again, this time with the doctor. Her eyes were softer, but still filled with concern. She entered quickly, as if afraid I might disappear at any moment.
"I…" I began to speak, but my voice faltered for a moment. Fatigue still lingered over me.
"How are you feeling? The doctor said you were in a very strange state…" She came closer and helped me sit up as the doctor began checking my vitals.
I didn't know what to say. I didn't even know what to think. So much was happening at once, and I could barely process it.
The doctor was a middle-aged man with a serious expression but kind eyes. He looked at the monitors, adjusted a few buttons on the side of the bed, and made notes on his clipboard.
"Vitals are normal. No alarming changes. Everything looks fine, but we'll need to keep a close watch. Something unusual happened, but it's good to see he's responding well."
My mother let out a relieved sigh, though her eyes still carried a deep concern.
"You had some kind of… blackout, Haruki. I don't know what happened, but you were so pale, barely breathing. I... I didn't know what to think, sweetheart."
I looked at her, organizing my thoughts, thinking about what I should reveal… and what I shouldn't.
"Mom," I said firmly, trying to suppress the anxiety growing inside me, "my Quirk awakened."
She furrowed her brow, confused.
"Quirk? You… your Quirk awakened?"
Her voice was cautious, like she was trying to understand what I meant, but there was still a shadow of worry in her eyes.
I took a deep breath, trying to find the right words.
"Yes," I continued. "I don't know exactly how to explain it, but… I have a connection to plants. Something different."
She looked at me with a mix of curiosity and skepticism.
"Plants?"
She repeated, trying to make sense of it. "What do you mean?"
"It's… hard to explain," I said slowly. "I touched a plant, and it was like I could feel its life. Not just texture or shape. I… felt its energy, like a faint breath, still alive. And then, without effort, it... changed. It became greener. Stronger."
Her expression shifted.
"So you're saying… your Quirk makes plants grow? Like you have the power to… animate them?"
I nodded, feeling a strange blend of pride and uncertainty.
"Yes. As if I can… connect my energy with theirs. It's strange, but it feels right to be near them."
She shook her head, still trying to process.
"Alright, sweetheart. If your Quirk doesn't hurt you, that's all that matters. Remember: whatever happens, you can count on me. I'll always be here for you."
The doctor, who had remained quiet until now, observed us carefully.
"Well, the important thing is that your vitals are normal," he said, adjusting his glasses. "But Haruki, it's not common for a Quirk to endanger the body during awakening. If you notice anything unusual, let someone know immediately."
"You'll need to stay under observation a bit longer. Your body went through something intense. This kind of awakening can be tricky. It might take more time to adjust."
"I understand," I replied.
"Now, if you don't mind," the doctor said, "we'll run a few more routine tests, just to make sure everything is fine."
My mother nodded, still worried, but visibly calmer.
"Alright. I'll stay with you."
The plant I had touched now filled my thoughts — its soft touch and how it had responded.
I could hardly wait to see how far I could go with these abilities.
"Haruki," my mother said, pulling me from my thoughts, "do you think you'll be able to do more with this Quirk? I mean… control plants more broadly?"
I smiled faintly, imagining the possibilities.
"I don't know yet, Mom. But if I can understand how it works… it might be much more than it seems."