A Provisional Hero (trans woman MC route)

Musutafa, Japan. An alright place to live, all in all. Clean enough, safe enough, places to shop and eat that were cheap and good enough. The only thing was that, living so close to UA, Japan’s biggest heroics academy, things could get... pretty weird, on occasion.

But you were used to that, a life that jumps back and forth from ‘alright enough’ to ‘pretty weird’. With a Quirk like yours, you’d have to be! After all, you’re Maki Kayano, and your Quirk ‘Jinx’ has **** you to make a habit of rolling with life’s punches. Bad luck has always followed you, nothing life ruining, but bad enough to make your life a bit odd. Things would break around you all the time as a kid, from the brakes on your bike snapping and sending you hurtling down the sidewalk, to packages of glitter exploding everywhere during arts and crafts, to the climbing rope falling free from the gym ceiling the second you hopped onto it. Things got a little more awkward from puberty on, as your Quirk started focusing more on your clothing; changing room doors suddenly being unlocked, waistbands snapping on newly purchased shorts in the middle of a hallway, swimsuit after swimsuit lost to crashing waves, fishing hooks, and overpowered pool filters.

And that was all back when you were still ‘Yugo’! A supportive family helped you transition to ‘Maki’ from your high school senior year onward, but it only gave your Quirk more targets; a few years later, not only did you find yourself exposing your plump posterior and slightly short but plenty thick dick, but the second you grew a pair of petite, perky tits those became fair game as well! Not to mention finding a job in adult life was a bit tough; retail job box cutters might has well have been samurai swords to your uniforms, it was hard to keep an office setting professional when coffee makers exploded at your touch and your skirt would snag the corner of every desk. Even learning to control your quirk didn’t help much; at best you could make it do something on purpose every once and a while, and even then you could only aim for a result, not predict the method. You certainly couldn’t turn it off!

So, you were between jobs and on your own in the city, getting a bit of help from your still supportive family to keep you on your feet. You were in the middle of a lull even, in one of your ‘alright enough’ phases where you only locked yourself out every other week instead of half a dozen times each month, and your pants only miraculously undid themselves when you still had hands free to catch them.

But sure enough, whether you knew it or not, you were hurtling right back towards the other side of your life. The ‘pretty weird’ side. The frustratingly familiar but somehow no less embarrassing, cloth shredding, pants dropping, tits ass cock and balls baring slapstick side of your life. But what happened, exactly that set everything off again?