Reincarnated as Ghostface in My Hero Academia

Will really four new chapters today

The gym was alive with activity as Class 1-A underwent their usual training exercises. The air buzzed with the energy of quirks being pushed to their limits, the sounds of explosions, slamming punches, and lightning-fast movements. But I felt none of it. I was detached, an observer in the midst of it all, watching with cold calculation.

There was something unsettlingly beautiful about it—the way they fought, the way they tried to prove themselves. They were all so eager, so willing to give everything to show how much they mattered. But in the end, it was all a game, one I was playing far better than any of them.

I had been silent for days, watching them, weaving my influence like a master puppeteer. And now, it was time to make my move.

The students were scattered across the gym, some practicing with their teammates, others working solo. Midoriya, as usual, was throwing himself into his training, relentlessly testing the limits of his quirk. I could see the desperation in his eyes, the desire to be better, to be *worthy* of his power. He was so *raw*, so open to manipulation. And I could feel it, that little crack in his resolve, just waiting to be exploited.

But it wasn't him I was focused on at that moment.

No, today was the day to introduce the first real *cut* in their world.

I walked quietly into the gym, my footsteps echoing softly in the emptiness of the far corner. My classmates were too distracted to notice, their attention absorbed in the chaos of their training. Bakugo was mid-battle with Todoroki, the two of them clashing with explosive power. But I wasn't interested in the spectacle. I was interested in the *subtle* things, the things that went unnoticed—the things that would shift the balance, just slightly, so no one would notice the damage until it was too late.

I watched them, the tension building as the two rivals grew more intense in their sparring. Bakugo's temper was always just beneath the surface, a constant threat of exploding into violence. Todoroki's quiet reserve was fragile, a thin mask that barely concealed the internal battle he was waging.

But no one was paying attention to the growing distance between two other students—two who had once been close friends.

Kirishima and Sero were arguing, though their voices were low enough to be almost drowned out by the noise of the ongoing combat. I couldn't hear the words, but I could see the frustration in their postures, the tightness of their jaws.

It didn't take much to push them further. A quick flick of my wrist—subtle, barely visible—and I sent a small, almost imperceptible shock through the air. A shift in the electromagnetic field. A distraction.

Sero flinched, and Kirishima, whose hands had been clenched in frustration, snapped, his fists slamming down onto the floor with a deep thud.

"Get a grip, Sero!" Kirishima shouted, his voice cracking with anger. "Stop making everything harder than it needs to be!"

Sero looked taken aback, his usual relaxed demeanor faltering. "What the hell's your problem, man? I'm just trying to help you out!"

Their argument escalated quickly, their words harsh and biting. It didn't matter what they said—it was the tension between them that would fester. The rift had been created, the foundation of their friendship cracked.

I watched with satisfaction as the others turned their attention toward the two. It didn't matter that it was small, that it didn't make any immediate sense. The damage had been done. They would feel the strain between them, the misunderstanding, the growing tension. It was like a seed planted in their minds. And I would watch it grow.

As their voices rose, Todoroki and Bakugo broke off from their own clash, moving toward the others. But I remained in the shadows, watching.

Just a little more.

---

Later that night, in the quiet of the dorms, I could sense the changes starting to ripple through the group. The argument between Kirishima and Sero had grown worse, the tension undeniable. It was subtle, barely noticeable to anyone on the outside, but I knew.

Midoriya and Bakugo, as usual, were locked in their own rivalry, but the weight of the situation was starting to bear down on them. They were looking for something to latch onto, some way to define themselves. I could already feel the friction in the air, as if they were both just a few steps away from falling into the trap I'd set.

The more they fought, the more they proved my point—none of them were perfect. They were all just broken pieces, each struggling to find a place to fit.

And I was the one pushing them, gently nudging them into the cracks I'd created.

---

I slipped out of the dorms that night, my Ghostface mask securely in place. The darkness around me was comforting, like an old friend I could always rely on. My power lay in the shadows, in the spaces between the light. I had to stay hidden, to keep my identity a mystery. But the real thrill came from knowing I could walk among them without ever being seen.

I had spent too much time in the background, too long hiding my true nature. But now, I was ready to take the next step.

I would show them exactly what they had to fear. I wasn't going to be the hero. I wasn't going to be the villain. I was the *ghost*, the thing they couldn't see, the thing that lurked in the corners of their lives.

The *real* game was just beginning.

---

**End of Chapter 5.**