MHA REINCARNATION!

The last thing I remember was the soft hum of my charging phone and the comforting weight of my All Might blanket. Then, black. Not the comforting, nothingness kind of black, but the kind that felt like being stuffed into a sensory deprivation tank. When I finally came to, it wasn't to the familiar, slightly chaotic comfort of my dorm room at UA.

My eyes fluttered open to a blur of beige and brown. The first thing I noticed was that I was tall. Really tall. Like, the ceiling felt a good foot further away than it usually did. My arms stretched out before me, not the lean, slightly scrawny limbs of Denki Kaminari, but something longer, more muscular. A jolt of panic shot through me, and I tried to sit up, only to find my body moved with a strange, graceful unfamiliarity.

I looked down. Gone was the sunshine-yellow of my pajamas. In their place were a pair of dark blue athletic shorts and a plain white t-shirt. My hands, too, were different. Long fingers, definitely not the calloused ones from years of accidental electricity discharges, and the nails were… well-kept. I wiggled them experimentally, trying to catch a glimpse of any lingering sparks, any sign of my Quirk. Nothing. Just… regular, very normal human hands.

My mind was a hurricane. One moment, I was dreaming of the next training exercise, the next I was… this. I scrambled to the edge of the bed, the thick duvet feeling strange beneath my legs. The floorboards beneath me were cold, and I realized with a jolt of horror that this wasn't the smooth, industrial linoleum of our dorm. This was wood.

Panic tightened my chest. "Okay, okay, breathe, Kaminari," I muttered, even though my voice sounded like it belonged to a stranger – deeper, almost gravelly. I stumbled towards the nearest mirror, and what I saw made my brain short-circuit all over again.

The face staring back wasn't me. It was undeniably handsome, a strong jawline, sharp eyes framed by thick, dark eyebrows, and that mop of jet black hair, with the crazy, rooster-like spike that was... kind of familiar. I knew this face.

My heart hammered in my chest, a frantic drumbeat against my ribs. It was Kuroo Tetsurou. The cool, collected, slightly smug captain of Nekoma High's volleyball team. But this wasn't a poster, or a photo. This was my face.

My hands flew to my head, my fingers digging into that ridiculous spiky hair. It was real. I was really… him. Or, rather, in him. The realization crashed over me like a wave. This wasn't a dream. I had somehow, inexplicably, become Kuroo Tetsurou.

I wanted to scream, to blast the walls with uncontrolled electricity and run back to the comfort of my own skin. But I couldn't. I was stuck in this tall, athletic body. I took a deep breath, the air feeling strange and unfamiliar in my lungs. Think, Denki, think. This is like a super-weird, super-real training exercise.

First things first: I needed information. I fumbled for the phone on the nightstand, the sleek black rectangle feeling foreign in my hands. It was unlocked – something I would never do at UA thanks to Hagakure and her constant pranks – and the screen showed a text message. It was from someone named "Kenma," asking about lunch.

Lunch. Food. Okay. I could do lunch. Maybe grabbing a meal could give me some time to figure out what in the hell was going on. I stumbled through breakfast, navigating the kitchen like I was in a foreign country, which, in a sense, I was. The food tasted different, felt different. Everything was just… wrong.

I managed to get myself to school, albeit with the help of the unfamiliar route on my phone. Walking through the halls, people recognized me, calling out "Kuroo-san" and "Captain." My mouth was working on autopilot, responding with a practiced ease that was completely foreign to my brain. It was like I was suddenly a puppet, a very convincing imitation of Kuroo Tetsurou.

Volleyball practice was the most surreal experience of my life. I was moving, jumping, and spiking with a practiced grace I knew I hadn't possessed a few hours ago. It was as if Muscle Memory was a completely different person, having taken Kuroo's body with him. I was just along for the ride. Yet, I could feel the thrill of it too. The power of the spike, the satisfying thwack of the ball, the camaraderie of the team - it was almost addictive.

This definitely wasn't the chaotic, explosive fun of being a hero. It was… different. More subtle, relying on precision and teamwork. I was a strategist, a leader, and it was both thrilling and incredibly confusing. By the time I collapsed onto my bed back at home, I was completely exhausted. Physically, the training was rigorous. But mentally? It was a full-blown car crash.

Looking at the ceiling, I knew I wasn't just going to wake up from this. This was my new reality. Denki Kaminari, the aspiring hero and accidental human taser, was now Kuroo Tetsurou, a volleyball captain. I had no idea why or how, but one thing was clear. I had to figure out how to live this life, how to be this person. And most importantly, I had to figure out how to get back home. I let out a long sigh, the unfamiliar sound filling the room.

"Okay, Kuroo," I whispered into the darkness, "Let's figure this out." It was a promise, not just to myself, but to the life I'd somehow been thrust into. And maybe, just maybe, in this strange new world, I could find a little something for myself too.