This is it. Don't fail now.
…
A person walks through the city with a guitar bag slung over his back. His clothes are like a carnival performer that has a flair to them. A masquerade mask hides his face, and a tricorn hat rests atop his head. His jaw is sharp and defined, hinting at a handsome face beneath the mask.
He wears a dark green shirt that flares into a red and gold checkered collar, split down the middle to reveal part of his chest. Black and gold pauldrons rest on his shoulders, layered with strips of blue, white, and fuchsia fabric, all pinned with golden anchors and bits of jewelry. Frilled sleeves and belts drape down his arms, which are wrapped in long black fingerless gloves tied with red straps. A red-and-black cape flows behind him. His white trousers are tucked into black boots laced with gold, a double-crossed belt slung low on his waist.
Eventually, he stops near a busy shop in a corner one where people tend to pass by and linger. From the guitar bag, he pulls out a small sign and props it up against the case:
[A very very great Musician/Singer/Bard. Please drop some money in my guitar bag if you love my performance.]
He lays out a mat and a few small props, setting the stage.
The setup draws some curious stares with people glancing at the sign and at him, brows raised at the narcissism dripping off the words.
'Good. The trust is flowing.' he thinks. 'Just need to pick the right ones and avoid the rotten ones before they take shape.'
He adjusts his stance and it's showtime.
With the guitar strap slung across his body, he speaks with confidence, voice ringing loudly at the street. "Ladies and gentlemen, you may call me... The Mourning Actor!!! Here to spread entertainment and show for the masses. Please enjoy."
Melody flew out as he rang the guitar bringing clean, crisp, and lively tune. The first riff spilled into the street like each note flowing on the breeze, heads turned at the sound with some caught off guard at how well he's playing. Conversations faded as they listened.
Then, he began to sing.
"Nothing ever goes the way I want it to, and I can't help but hate myself for it"
His voice hit the air with surprising clarity, smooth, expressive, just rough enough to feel real. It sounded like it came from someone who had lived that line, not someone reciting lyrics. That single line was enough to interest the crowd. There was weight in it, emotions flowing.
He kept playing, fingers moving with confidence that wasn't entirely his own but no one could tell. The trust pouring from his listeners worked quietly, amplifying his presence, refining each note, filling in every gap he didn't know existed.
"To hide from these countless pains and sorrows,I've gone off on a searchFor a place I can hide away in."
The crowd grew. Small and scattered at first, then gradually closer. A couple of students stopped mid-step, an old man adjusted his seat. A mother hushed her child without realizing she had. The city hadn't gone quiet, but around him, there was a calm—a kind of space carved by sound and intent. A spotlight made of belief.
He strummed forward into the next verse, letting his voice carry gently:
"I'd rather stay inside a rocky creviceAnd sleep without regard for the sun or moon.Why was I even born in the first place?I don't know… it just doesn't make sense."
A few people exchanged glances recognizing something in the lyrics, a hint of confusion and something that makes people feel understood.
"But while it may seem like that,It means you have the ability to become even greater…And I'll tell you why."
He raised his voice not louder, but warmer, Inviting and Confident like a wind chime at summer festival.
"That's right, as us gods say—At our every command, everyone loves the Earth!Drink and sing! Everyone, be merry!It's not so bad, once in a while!"
Money dropped at his bag, Phones being tilted up to record him, and a few passersby started tapping their feet or humming along, not even realizing they were doing it.
And behind the mask, he smiled just a little.
'This is it' he thought. 'This is how it starts.'
...
After some time, the song ends. The final notes linger in the air before fading gently into the city noise.
A warm applause follows him, with claps echoing and cheers rising among smiles. It's enough to evoke warmth in a performer like him.
He lifts his tricorn hat in a graceful motion, revealing tousled turquoise hair that catches the light. His mask stays on, but the gesture draws attention. A few people lean forward, trying to see more.
He bows low, cape swaying behind him as he moves like he's done this a hundred times before. He straightens with a light step, hand pressed to his chest.
Then, with a confident smile behind the mask, he speaks.
"Thank you, thank you. As I said earlier, you can call me the Mourning Actor."
"Now, please do follow me on HeroTube. My content will focus on guitar, singing, and my quirk helping out with the special effects."
A few people chuckle. Some lift their phones, already searching for his name. Others linger, unsure why they don't want to walk away yet.
The trust is still flowing, steady and quiet like a tide.
'They're curious now. That's the first step,' he thinks, gently setting the hat back atop his head.
He adjusts the strap of his guitar and turns slightly, voice carrying just enough to reach the crowd.
"I'll be performing a little more, so feel free to stay if you've got the time. If not, please do check my herotube if you had fun."
With that, he strums again. No grand speech and no buildup, just music for the ears.
He plays through a few more songs, simple melodies, light vocals. Some upbeat, some mellow, all enough to keep the crowd lingering.
Time slips by with some people leaving while others stay. Coins gather in the guitar bag and his name starts to pass between strangers.
Eventually, the strings quiet down. He packs up without a word and gives one last bow to those still watching, and slips away into the city.
…
Back home, he leans against the wall, breathing happily. The room is small and bare, with nothing but a basic set up of a bedroom and the soft clatter of coins inside the pouch and the half-open guitar case beside him.
The mask is off, His hair messy. The performer is gone for now.
He closes his eyes, letting the silence settle.
'That worked out better than I expected.'
He stretches, limbs loose and tired. The ceiling offers no answers, just a blank canvas above his thoughts letting him sink into the past.
He wasn't from this world, he's just someone that transmigrated after answering some survey.
Before the crowd, the guitar, the persona—there was just a screen, glowing a little too brightly in a dark room.
It started with something dumb. A survey. One of those long-winded quizzes people post in threads titled "Just for fun! See which anime world you'd survive in!"
He clicked it out of boredom. Too tired to sleep, too restless to think.
[SURVEY: WHAT KIND OF HERO WOULD YOU BE?]"This survey is entirely for entertainment. Your responses may or may not shape your destiny. Results are final. No takebacks."
He snorted. Sure.
He tapped through the first few without much thought.
Q1: What world would you like to be in?[ ] Crossover of slice of life anime[ ] To Be HeroX[ ] Honkai Star Rail[x] MHA
Q2: Which power would you rather have?[ ] Strength[ ] Speed[ ] Telepathy[x] Trust
That one made him pause. Trust?
He hovered over the option, shrugged, and tapped it.
Q3: If people believed in you, but for the wrong reasons… would you still accept their trust?[ ] Yes[ ] No[x] Depends on what they see in me.
The questions kept coming. Some serious. Some dumb.
Final Question: Are you ready to become someone else, somewhere else?[ ] …[ ] No[ ] Wait, what?[x] Sure, why not.
The moment he clicked it, the screen blinked.
His eyes widened, the room suddenly felt like it tilted sideways. Not the dramatic flashing-light kind of isekai, either, it felt like the world's gravity become wrong and tilt him.
Then came the words appearing in his phone:
Transfer confirmed. Welcome to your stage.
And that's how he ended up here.
In the world of My Hero Academia—a world where people were born with powers called quirks, where heroes wore costumes and villains gave speeches, and everything looked like a mix of fantasy and marketing.
A world that treated trust like currency, fame like strength, and image like truth.
He woke up as a kid. An orphan, according to the papers. No family, no background, just a small home in Musutafu.
His body was younger. Maybe sixteen, maybe eighteen, It's hard to tell with how young yet muscular it was. The mirror gave him a face he didn't recognize and with a hair colored turquoise.
There was no fancy message, no system guide, no old man in a robe explaining the rules.
Just quiet realization and a flicker of something new inside him.
Trust.
He could feel it. Not his own, but from others. Weak at first, like background noise. But it was there. And when people started talking to him, he noticed something.
If they believed in what they percieved him as, it became real and most importantly, if their trust didn't feel right, if it tried to shape him into something he hated, he could reject it. Cut the thread and Deny the influence.
That part is something he's thankful cause imagine the world perceiving him as a monster, he will literally become a monster.
That power is also the reason as to why he could sing and play the guitar, he walked for about 20-30 minutes with a guitar bag slung across his back somewhere in the city, to make people believe that he could play the guitar. When he felt ready he started doing some performance and making his singing better too.
Today he created his account, wear the suit he bought and take some more influence in the city, he will mask his persona as a singer to make himself an idol and fake his quirk as a melody based like Uta, Robin, Ciaccona and Astra.
That is Him, Shion Kuramatsu. The Mourning Actor.
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Author Note:
I was bored and honestly I'm just craving for some singer idol in the anime setting but I can't find one that is not discontinued...
I will only post when I feel like it, don't read this expecting continuous update and honestly no need to read this I'm jus bored and won't put too much work in this. Peace.