Nezu's POV
The morning sun had barely risen over UA's campus when Nezu received the encrypted communication. He reviewed it twice, nose twitching with concern, before summoning Lady Nagant to his office.
She arrived promptly, her posture perfect as always, though Nezu detected subtle signs of change—a softening around the eyes, less rigidity in her movements. Small shifts that spoke volumes about her evolving relationship with her young charge.
"The HSPC has escalated their interest in young Meiji," Nezu stated without preamble, sliding a tablet across his desk. "This arrived an hour ago."
Nagant reviewed the document, her expression betraying nothing, though her fingers tightened marginally on the tablet's edge.
"They're citing Provision 103 of the Hero Safety Act," Nezu continued. "Claiming jurisdiction over any quirk deemed to have 'unprecedented evolution potential with security implications.' They're demanding an immediate full assessment of Meiji's quirk, including stress testing."
"Stress testing," Nagant repeated, the term hanging in the air like a threat. Both knew what it entailed—deliberately triggering extreme emotional states to observe quirk response under duress. For a child already traumatized by experimentation, it would be catastrophic.
"Director Kujō has also filed a formal request to transfer Meiji to their specialized containment facility for 'comprehensive evaluation,'" Nezu added. "They're prepared to seek a judicial order if we refuse."
Nagant set the tablet down carefully. "When?"
"They've requested access tomorrow morning. I've successfully negotiated a three-day delay, citing Meiji's current training schedule and the need for psychological preparation."
"Three days," Nagant echoed, her voice neutral though her eyes had hardened. "Not much time."
Nezu studied her carefully. "This puts you in a difficult position, Lady Nagant. The HSPC expects your cooperation as their operative. Your official assignment was temporary custody to facilitate assessment, not protection."
"I'm aware of my assignment parameters," she replied evenly.
"And yet," Nezu observed, "I suspect your perspective has evolved since accepting that assignment."
Nagant didn't immediately respond, her gaze shifting to the window where UA students could be seen crossing the campus.
"What happens in three days?" she asked finally.
"That depends," Nezu said, "on where your priorities lie."
A subtle tension entered her posture—the HSPC agent warring with whatever she had begun to become during her time with Meiji.
"I've prepared contingency measures," Nezu continued. "But their implementation would require your full commitment—a decision not made lightly, given the potential consequences to your position with the commission."
"Meiji is making progress," Nagant said, her voice carefully measured. "Removing him now would undo everything we've achieved."
"Indeed," Nezu agreed. "Though I suspect your concerns extend beyond professional assessment of his quirk development."
Again, Nagant chose not to directly respond to the implied question about her personal attachment. "What contingency measures?"
"All in due time," Nezu said. "For now, we proceed with Meiji's development as planned. I've arranged for him to observe a school tour today—children his age with quirk potential, visiting UA under our community outreach program. Limited interaction, carefully supervised, but an important step toward normalizing his social environment."
Nagant nodded, accepting the shift in conversation. "Where and when?"
"The east gardens at eleven. Thirteen will meet you there." Nezu's expression softened slightly. "Lady Nagant, whatever decision you make in the coming days, know that you have my full support—both officially as UA's principal, and personally as someone who understands what it means to be valued as a weapon rather than a person."
As she turned to leave, Nezu added quietly, "Three days is not much time, but it's enough to determine what matters most."
Meiji's POV
The garden was bigger than any Meiji had seen before—not that he remembered seeing many. His memories from before the facility remained fragmented, flashes of places and people that appeared and disappeared like his shadows.
Today, his shadows were calm, swirling gently around his ankles as he followed Lady Nagant along the stone path. They had been practicing control exercises all morning—forming specific shapes, maintaining consistent density, responding to verbal commands rather than just emotional impulses.
"We're meeting Thirteen here," Lady Nagant explained. "Another teacher who works with students learning quirk control."
Meiji nodded, though his attention had shifted to a butterfly landing on a nearby flower. His shadows extended curiously toward it, forming a delicate tendril that mirrored the butterfly's antenna without actually touching the insect.
"Good control," Lady Nagant noted approvingly. "Very gentle, and delicate."
A small warmth spread through Meiji's chest at the praise. He'd discovered that making Lady Nagant proud felt good—so much better than the relief of avoiding punishment that had been his primary motivation in the facility.
A figure in a space-themed costume approached them, waving a friendly greeting.
"You must be Meiji," the teacher said, voice slightly muffled through their helmet. "I'm Thirteen. I teach rescue operations and quirk safety at UA."
Meiji studied them curiously, shadows forming question marks that had become his standard response to new people.
"Thirteen's quirk creates gravitational forces that can break down matter to its base components," Lady Nagant explained. "Like a black hole."
"That's right," Thirteen confirmed. "It's a quirk that could easily hurt people if not properly controlled. I had to learn very careful limits and precise application—just like you're doing now with your shadows."
This comparison intrigued Meiji. His shadows shifted, forming small swirling vortexes that mimicked what he imagined Thirteen's quirk might look like.
"Very creative," Thirteen remarked, visibly surprised. "You have excellent visualization skills."
Before Meiji could respond, the distant sound of excited voices caught his attention. Approaching from the main path was a group of children approximately his age, led by a tall hero in a wooden costume that Meiji recognized as Kamui Woods from one of his picture books.
"That's the school tour I told you before leaving Meiji," Nagant said looking at Meiji's eyes.
"Young children visiting UA to learn about hero training. They'll be passing through the garden as part of their tour." Thirteen explained.
Meiji immediately tensed, shadows contracting closer to his body in a protective formation. Other children meant unknown variables, potential fear reactions to his quirk, judgments he wasn't prepared to face.
"We can leave if you prefer," Lady Nagant offered, noting his discomfort.
Meiji hesitated, torn between anxiety and curiosity. He hadn't seen other children since before the facility—at least, not that he clearly remembered.
"We could observe from a distance," Thirteen suggested softly. "A first step. No pressure to interact with them."
After a moment's consideration, Meiji nodded agreement. Lady Nagant led him to a small alcove partially concealed by flowering bushes, offering a view of the garden path where the tour would pass.
As the group of children came into view, Meiji found himself studying them with intense curiosity. They were loud, energetic, moving with a freedom he had almost forgotten existed. Some displayed visible quirk manifestations—a boy with small horns, a girl with multicolored hair that shifted hues as she moved, another with fingers that extended like rubber.
One child in particular caught his attention—a girl with periwinkle blue hair that floated around her head as if underwater. She moved with particular enthusiasm, asking questions that Meiji couldn't quite hear, pointing at everything that caught her interest.
"We call that being energetic," Lady Nagant commented, following his gaze. "Something you'll rediscover in your own time."
The tour continued past their position, the children gathering around a demonstration of plant-based quirks in the botanical section of the garden. Meiji watched, shadows extending slightly in their direction before retreating—curious but cautious.
"Would you like to try an exercise while we're here?" Thirteen asked intrigued of his reaction. "The garden offers excellent opportunities for fine control practice."
Meiji nodded, grateful for the structured activity to focus on rather than the unsettling mix of emotions the other children stirred in him.
"Try creating shadow outlines of different flowers," Thirteen suggested. "Focus on capturing the details—petals, stems, texture."
The exercise was challenging but engaging. Meiji moved from flower to flower, his shadows extending to trace their shapes, gradually forming increasingly accurate three-dimensional representations. He became so absorbed in the task that he didn't immediately notice when one of the children from the tour group wandered away from the demonstration.
"Hello! What are you doing?"
The bright voice startled him. Meiji turned to find the blue-haired girl standing just a few feet away, watching his shadow-sculpting with wide, curious eyes.
His shadows instantly contracted, forming a protective barrier around him as he took an instinctive step back.
"Oh wow!" the girl exclaimed, seemingly unfazed by his defensive reaction. "Your quirk is amazing! Are those shadows? Can you make them into any shape? How do they move like that?"
[Help me Insert an image of curious Nejire]
The rapid-fire questions overwhelmed Meiji, his shadows darkening and forming small defensive spikes. Lady Nagant stepped forward, positioning herself slightly between them.
"Nejire," called Kamui Woods from the main path. "Please stay with the group."
"But there's a boy with shadow powers!" the girl—Nejire—called back, still watching Meiji with unabashed fascination. "He was making flower shapes!"
Meiji felt frozen between fear and a strange new feeling—interest. No one had ever reacted to his quirk with such open curiosity rather than clinical assessment or fear.
"I apologize," Kamui Woods said, approaching their alcove. "Nejire tends to wander when something catches her interest." He looked at Meiji and his shadows with professional assessment rather than alarm. "Interesting quirk, young man."
"He's a special student under UA supervision," Thirteen explained diplomatically. "Working on quirk control exercises."
Nejire's eyes somehow grew even wider. "You get to study at UA already? That's so cool! I want to come to UA when I'm older and be a hero!"
Her enthusiasm was like a physical force, bright and insistent. Meiji's shadows wavered, uncertain how to respond to this unfamiliar energy.
"Nejire, we need to rejoin the others," Kamui Woods reminded her, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.
"Okay!" she agreed cheerfully, then turned back to Meiji. "Your quirk is really pretty when you make flower shapes. Much better than spiky shapes." With that simple observation, she waved and followed Kamui Woods back to the main group.
After they'd gone, Meiji stood silent for several moments, shadows shifting through various formations as if processing what had happened.
"Well," Thirteen said finally. "That should be Nejire Hado. She has a quite remarkable energy emission quirk—and an equally remarkable personality, as you just witnessed."
Meiji looked up at Lady Nagant, shadows forming question marks.
"She wasn't afraid," he said quietly, genuine surprise in his voice.
Lady Nagant nodded. "Some people see beyond the surface. It's a rare quality."
For the remainder of their garden session, Meiji found himself repeatedly glancing toward the direction the tour group had gone. His shadows, interestingly, had begun forming gentler patterns—less defensive, more exploratory.
And once, when he thought no one was watching, they formed a small replica of a girl with floating hair.
General POV
The training facility hummed with focused energy as Meiji worked with multiple teachers simultaneously. Aizawa supervised the overall session, his capture weapon coiled loosely around his neck as he observed with critical attention. Present Mic called out various scenarios requiring quick shadow adaptations, while Thirteen demonstrated containment techniques that Meiji attempted to replicate with his darkness.
"Defensive barrier, three meters radius, porous to allow air flow but solid enough to block projectiles," Aizawa instructed.
Meiji concentrated, shadows expanding outward in a perfect circle around him, forming a mesh-like structure with precise openings.
"PERFECT EXECUTION, LITTLE LISTENER!" Present Mic approved, his voice carefully modulated to avoid triggering his quirk.
"Now transition to targeted restraint," Aizawa continued. "Bind the training dummy without excessive pressure."
The shadows shifted, flowing across the room to wrap around the designated dummy. The quirk monitor on Meiji's wrist showed stable readings despite the complexity of the task—a significant improvement from his first sessions.
Lady Nagant watched from the observation area, her expression neutral though her eyes tracked every movement with attentive assessment. Beside her, Principal Nezu analyzed both Meiji's performance and the data streaming from his quirk monitor.
"His control has improved dramatically," Nezu observed. "Particularly the transition between different applications."
"He practices at night," Nagant replied. "When he thinks I'm not watching. Creating shapes, testing limitations."
Meiji's eyes widened after hearing her that he was caught.
Nezu's nose / whiskers twitched with interest. "Its perfect!,"
Nezu said while clapping his small paws "Self-motivated training is an excellent sign. What kinds of shapes have you done?"
(does he have whiskers? the internet says he does but I cant see any, thought adding small body reactions helped create more depth, did it help 👀???)
"... Various things. Animals. Buildings." A slight pause. "Recently, flowers."
Nezu nodded, understanding the significance. "The garden must've made an impression. And perhaps its diverse visitors as well."
In the training area, the exercise had evolved to more creative applications. Present Mic had challenged Meiji to form recognizable objects from the shadows—a task that combined visualization skills with precise quirk control.
"How about... a whale!" Present Mic suggested enthusiastically.
Meiji's brow furrowed in concentration, shadows pooling before rising into a remarkably detailed whale form, complete with proportional fins and tail.
"Most impressive," Thirteen thrilled by a new discovery commented. "Its shape accuracy suggests excellent observational memory."
"Try something more complex," Aizawa instructed. "Multiple moving parts working together."
Meiji considered this challenge, then the shadows shifted, forming what appeared to be a miniature version of the UA campus, with tiny figures moving between buildings.
"Extraordinary spatial reasoning," Nezu murmured, leaning forward with increased interest. "He's recreating our entire campus layout from memory."
The session continued for another thirty minutes, each exercise building on previous skills while introducing new challenges. Throughout, Meiji maintained consistent control, the shadows responding with increasing precision to his direction.
"That's enough for today," Aizawa concluded finally his tone softening, noting signs of fatigue in the boy's posture. "You've shown great growth, Meiji."
As the session ended and Meiji rejoined Lady Nagant, Present Mic approached with his characteristic enthusiasm.
"Our little listener is developing quite the impressive skill set! From defensive spikes to artistic creations—talk about range!"
"The creative applications are particularly promising," Thirteen added. "Imagination coupled with precise control opens up numerous potential uses beyond combat."
Aizawa's assessment was more measured but equally positive. "His quirk adaptability suggests he could develop specialized techniques for various scenarios. Rescue operations, containment, reconnaissance—the applications extend well beyond offensive capabilities."
As they discussed future training approaches, a notification chimed on Nezu's tablet. His expression remained pleasant, though something sharpened in his gaze.
"It appears we have visitors," he said calmly. "The HSPC has sent representatives to observe today's training results. They're currently at the main gate, requesting immediate access."
Lady Nagant's posture subtly shifted—a return to the professional rigidity of an HSPC operative. "They weren't scheduled until three days from now."
"Indeed," Nezu agreed. "However, they're citing emergency protocols under Provision 103-B, which grants them authority to conduct unscheduled assessments of potentially hazardous quirks."
Meiji, sensing the tension, looked up at Lady Nagant with concern, shadows curling closer to his body in apprehensive patterns.
"It seems Director Kujō has accompanied the assessment team personally," Nezu continued, reviewing the security feed. "Along with three specialized agents and a quirk analyst."
"A significant delegation for a simple progress check," Aizawa noted, his tone suggesting he understood the implications.
"Sadly so," Nezu replied. "I've instructed security to escort them to Conference Room 3. We'll meet them there rather than allowing direct access to the training facilities."
Lady Nagant knelt to Meiji's eye level. "There are people from the commission who want to see your progress. Remember what we practiced about formal assessments?"
Meiji nodded, though his shadows betrayed his anxiety, forming small defensive formations. "Show control. Follow instructions. Maintain calm."
"That's right," she confirmed and comforted him. "Don't worry, I'll be with you the entire time."
As they prepared to meet the HSPC delegation, Nezu added quietly to Aizawa, "Implement security protocol Theta. And contact Recovery Girl to stand by."
The subtle instruction confirmed what Aizawa had already suspected—this was not a routine visit, and Nezu anticipated potential complications.
Lady Nagant's POV
Conference Room 3 had been prepared according to standard HSPC assessment protocols—monitoring equipment positioned at precise intervals, recording devices activated, a central area cleared for quirk demonstration, most likely quickly implemented with a size control quirk. It resembled a scientific observation setup more than an educational assessment, and Nagant noted how Meiji's shadows immediately contracted into tighter formations upon entering the space.
Director Kujō stood at the head of the conference table, flanked by three agents in HSPC formal attire and a woman in a white lab coat whom Nagant recognized as Dr. Yukimura, the commission's leading quirk analyst. Their presence together signaled the high priority the HSPC had assigned to Meiji's case.
"Agent Nagant," Kujō acknowledged with a curt nod. "Principal Nezu."
"Director Kujō," Nezu replied pleasantly, yet his eyes cold. "This is an unexpected acceleration of our agreed timeline. Surely you must also be aware of the possible implications this may bring"
"New information necessitated immediate assessment," Kujō stated flatly uncaring. Her gaze shifted to Meiji, who had positioned himself slightly behind Nagant. "This is the subject?"
"This is Meiji Hasegawa," Nezu corrected firmly. "A child under UA's protection and educational supervision."
Kujō's expression didn't change, but something cold entered her eyes. "Agent Nagant, please prepare the subject for standard quirk evaluation procedure."
Nagant felt Meiji tense behind her, shadows darkening in response to the clinical directive. She remained motionless, neither complying nor refusing—a subtle resistance that didn't go unnoticed by Kujō.
"Perhaps," Nezu interjected smoothly, "we might begin with a discussion of Meiji's progress rather than immediate testing. We have comprehensive data from his training sessions that Dr. Yukimura might find informative."
"We've reviewed your reports," Kujō replied dismissively. "Theory and controlled exercises are inadequate for proper assessment of a quirk with this classification. We require direct observation under standardized conditions."
One of the agents stepped forward, carrying what appeared to be monitoring equipment similar to but more invasive than the wristband Meiji currently wore.
"This will provide more detailed quirk activation readings," the agent explained, approaching Meiji.
The boy's shadows immediately formed a defensive barrier, eyes and teeth manifesting within the darkness—a reaction Nagant hadn't seen since their first days at UA.
"Meiji," she said calmly, "it's alright."
"Interesting defensive response," Dr. Yukimura noted, making an entry on her tablet. "Anthropomorphic manifestations within the shadow matter, triggered by perceived threat."
"Agent Nagant," Kujō said sharply, "control your charge."
The possessive phrasing—"your charge"—jarred against what Meiji had become to her. Not an assignment. Not a subject. A child with a name, preferences, fears, and remarkable courage in the face of trauma.
"Meiji," Nagant said again, kneeling to his eye level. "These people want to see your quirk. Like our training sessions, but with different equipment."
The shadows wavered, the eyes within them fixed on her face, searching for reassurance.
"I'll stay right here," she promised.
After a moment's hesitation, Meiji gave a small nod. The shadows receded slightly, though they remained darker and more agitated than their normal state.
The agent approached again with the monitoring equipment, attaching sensors to Meiji's arms, chest, and forehead. The boy remained still, though his shadows curled protectively around each point of contact.
"Now," Dr. Yukimura said, "we'll begin with baseline readings. Subject, please activate your quirk to fifty percent capacity."
Meiji looked confused, shadows reflecting his uncertainty.
"He doesn't conceptualize his quirk in percentage terms," Nagant explained. "We use practical applications as measurement benchmarks."
Dr. Yukimura frowned. "Imprecise methodology. The commission requires standardized metrics."
"Perhaps," Nezu suggested, "a demonstration of specific skills would provide more meaningful data. Meiji has made remarkable progress in controlled shadow manipulation."
Before Dr. Yukimura could respond, Kujō interjected, "We'll proceed with standard HSPC assessment protocol. Subject, extend your quirk to maximum range."
Meiji glanced at Nagant, who nodded encouragement despite her growing concerns about the commission's approach. He concentrated, shadows extending outward until they reached the walls of the conference room, covering approximately ten meters in each direction.
"Now form offensive configurations," Kujō instructed.
Meiji hesitated, shadows wavering.
"Offensive configurations," Kujō repeated more firmly. "Spikes, blades, impact formations."
"We've focused his training on control and constructive applications," Nagant explained, "not weaponization."
Kujō's expression hardened. "Agent Nagant, may I remind you that this quirk was enhanced specifically for offensive capabilities. Failure to assess its combat potential represents negligent oversight."
The clinical detachment of Kujō's approach stirred something protective in Nagant—a feeling that had been growing steadily since that first night in her apartment when Meiji had tentatively accepted food from her hand.
"Meiji," Nagant said, maintaining eye contact with the boy rather than acknowledging Kujō, "show them the garden exercise we practiced."
Understanding lit in his eyes. The shadows shifted, drawing back from the walls and concentrating in the center of the room. Gradually, they formed into intricate botanical shapes—flowers, trees, delicate vines with perfect leaf patterns.
"As you can see," Nezu said smoothly, "Meiji has developed remarkable precision and creative application capabilities. Far more valuable than simple offensive formations."
"Impressive control," Dr. Yukimura acknowledged, though her attention remained focused on her monitoring equipment. "But insufficient for security classification assessment."
Kujō stepped forward, her patience visibly wearing thin. "Agent Nagant, we require combat potential evaluation. The commission has reason to believe this quirk was enhanced for specific military applications, including autonomous attack capabilities."
"He's five years old," Nagant stated, the edge in her voice unmistakable. "Not a weapon."
"His age is irrelevant to the quirk's potential," Kujō replied coldly. "The commission has determined that further specialized assessment is required. We'll be transferring him to our facility effective immediately."
The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly. Meiji's shadows contracted violently, forming jagged defensive formations around him. Nezu's cheerful demeanor hardened into something calculating and cold. Aizawa, who had been observing silently from the doorway, moved his hand to his capture weapon.
"That contradicts our agreement," Nezu said, his voice pleasant but unyielding. "The provisional period of one month has not concluded."
"New information supersedes previous arrangements," Kujō stated. "The commission has authority under Provision 103 to assume direct custody of any quirk deemed to have national security implications."
One of the agents produced an official document bearing the HSPC seal. "Transfer authorization, signed by the Chairman himself."
Nagant felt Meiji's hand slip into hers, small fingers gripping with desperate strength. His shadows had formed a complete barrier around them both now, eyes and teeth manifesting throughout the darkness in clear distress patterns.
In that moment, Lady Nagant—the HSPC's most efficient operative, trained to follow orders without question—made a decision that had been forming since the night she had held a terrified child in her arms and promised him safety.
"No," she said simply.
Kujō's eyes narrowed. "That was not a request, Agent Nagant. It was an order."
"An order I'm declining," Nagant replied, her voice steady. "Meiji stays at UA under current arrangements."
"This constitutes direct insubordination," Kujō warned. "With severe consequences for your position and future."
"I'm aware," Nagant acknowledged.
The standoff stretched, tension mounting as Kujō signaled to her agents, who moved into strategic positions around the room.
"Principal Nezu," Kujō said, her tone frigid, "I remind you that obstructing HSPC operations carries significant penalties, even for UA."
"Indeed," Nezu agreed pleasantly. "Almost as significant as the penalties for violating established custody arrangements for a minor without proper judicial review. A process I've taken the liberty of initiating this morning, anticipating this very scenario."
The confrontation was interrupted by a commotion at the door—a blur of blue hair and boundless energy as Nejire Hado somehow managed to slip past the security measures and into the conference room.
"I found you!" she exclaimed, apparently addressing Meiji despite the tense standoff. "I escaped from my group again because I wanted to see more pretty flowers!"
Nejire's POV
Nejire had been thinking about the shadow boy ever since their brief meeting in the garden. His quirk was the most interesting thing she'd seen all day—darkness that moved like water and could form any shape imaginable! Much more exciting than the standard tour Kamui Woods was leading.
So when she spotted him through a window, being led into a building with a group of serious-looking adults, curiosity overtook caution. Slipping away from her tour group had been easy—Kamui Woods was busy explaining hero costumes to the other children, and Nejire had perfected the art of quiet escape when something more interesting caught her attention.
[Kid Ninja Nejire Image? anyone wanna do an AI try of it? ]
Finding the right room had taken some detective work and creative use of her spiral energy quirk to boost herself up to peek through windows, but persistence had paid off. Now she stood in the doorway, beaming at her successful mission while completely oblivious to the tense confrontation she had interrupted.
"Your shadows look different now," she observed, tilting her head as she studied the dark, spiky formations surrounding Meiji and the tall woman beside him. "They have eyes and teeth. Are they hungry? Can shadows eat things?"
The adults in the room seemed frozen in surprise at her sudden appearance. Nejire, unfazed by their staring, walked directly toward Meiji, stopping only when the shadow barrier blocked her path.
That's when she noticed the fear in his eyes and the tense postures of everyone around her. The shadows looked scary with all those teeth, and for the first time, a flicker of apprehension ran through her. But then she saw how the boy was clutching the woman's hand, how his shoulders hunched as if trying to make himself smaller.
He wasn't scary. He was scared.
Making a decision with the straightforward courage of childhood, Nejire smiled and held out her hand toward the shadow barrier.
"Can I touch them?" she asked. "They look different from before. More... pointy."
The boy—Meiji, she remembered hearing the lady call him—stared at her in confusion, shadows wavering slightly.
"I'm Nejire Hado," she introduced herself properly. "I met you in the garden before, remember? You were making pretty dark flowers. Can you still make those? They were veeery pretty."
Slowly, as if responding to her cheerful tone rather than her actual words, a small section of the shadow barrier shifted, the teeth and eyes receding, forming instead a simple flower shape similar to those he had created in the garden.
"That's it!" Nejire exclaimed delightedly. "Can you make more? Different kinds? Like a rose? A daisy? A sunflower?"
Almost unconsciously, Meiji nodded. The shadows around him began to shift, defensive formations gradually transforming into botanical shapes—roses, daisies, sunflowers—spreading across the floor between them.
"Amazing!" Nejire crouched to examine them more closely. "They look so real! Can you make them move? Like growing?"
Meiji seemed to forget the tension around him as he concentrated on this new challenge. The shadow flowers began to "grow," stems extending, blooms opening, leaves unfurling in a mesmerizing display of control and creativity.
"Young lady," one of the stern-looking women in suits said sharply, "this area is restricted. You need to leave immediately."
Nejire looked up, finally registering the serious atmosphere. "Are you having a quirk test? We had those at my school. They're boring, but Meiji's quirk isn't boring at all. It's beautiful!"
The adults exchanged glances, something in the atmosphere shifting.
"What's your name again?" asked the small animal-like principal.
"Nejire Hado!" she answered brightly. "I'm visiting UA with my school. I want to be a hero when I grow up! My quirk makes spirals of energy—want to see?"
Without waiting for permission, Nejire activated her quirk, golden spirals of energy emanating from her hands in gentle, controlled waves.
"Look, Meiji!" she encouraged. "Our quirks could work together! Your shadows and my spirals—wouldn't that be cool?"
To everyone's surprise, Meiji's shadows responded to her energy, reaching out to intertwine with the golden spirals increasing its solidity, creating an unexpected harmony of darkness and light.
"See?" Nejire said proudly. "We match!"
General POV
The unexpected interaction between Nejire and Meiji had transformed the atmosphere in the conference room. What had been a tense confrontation now centered around two children—one exuberantly demonstrating her spiral energy, the other cautiously allowing his shadows to intermingle with her golden quirk.
Most striking was the effect on Meiji's shadows themselves. The defensive formations with eyes and teeth had completely receded, replaced by flowing patterns that mirrored Nejire's spiral energy. The quirk monitor was registering the most stable readings they had seen yet, despite the emotional intensity of the preceding confrontation.
Dr. Yukimura was the first to break the stunned silence, fingers flying across her tablet as she documented the interaction. "Remarkable quirk compatibility. The shadow matter is responding harmoniously to the energy spirals without any apparent training or preparation."
Director Kujō observed with narrowed eyes, reassessing the situation with cold calculation. "Young lady, how did you get in here?"
"I just followed Meiji," Nejire explained cheerfully. "We met before in the garden. His quirk makes the most amazing shapes!"
"And you're not afraid of his shadows?" Kujō asked, watching the interaction closely, remembering something in her heart.
Nejire looked confused by the question. "Why would I be afraid? They're just shadows. They do whatever he wants them to do." She turned back to Meiji. "Can you make them look like animals? Or heroes?"
Meiji, still wary of the HSPC agents but clearly drawn to Nejire's enthusiasm, tentatively reformed his shadows into the shape of a small rabbit. Nejire clapped in delight, her spiral energy pulsing brighter.
Nezu, ever observant, recognized a strategic opportunity. "As you can see, Director, Meiji's quirk responds exceptionally well to positive social interaction. His control parameters improve significantly in collaborative rather than confrontational scenarios."
Kujō said nothing, but her gaze shifted between the children and the monitoring equipment, which continued to show remarkably stable readings despite the complex shadow manipulations Meiji was performing.
"Our training approach," Nezu continued smoothly, "has prioritized positive quirk association rather than combat application—with demonstrably superior results for both control and development."
Lady Nagant remained beside Meiji, her hand still in his, watching as the boy became increasingly engaged in creating shadow forms to impress his new friend. The transformation was remarkable—from defensive terror to focused creativity in the span of minutes, all because of one child's unrestrained acceptance.
Dr. Yukimura approached Kujō, speaking quietly but not quietly enough to escape Nagant's trained hearing. "The readings suggest optimal quirk stability during positive interaction. Forced separation could trigger exactly the kind of instability we're concerned about."
Kujō's expression remained impassive, but something calculated shifted in her gaze as she studied the children. After a moment's consideration, she turned to Nezu.
"The commission will require a modified arrangement," she stated finally. "Daily data transmission from the quirk monitor, weekly in-person assessments by Dr. Yukimura, and immediate notification of any significant developments or instabilities."
"Those terms are acceptable," Nezu agreed smoothly, "provided the assessments remain non-invasive and appropriate for Meiji's age and psychological condition."
"We will also require controlled interaction studies," Kujō added, nodding toward Nejire. "The stability effect demonstrated here warrants further investigation."
"With proper supervision and within educational parameters only," Nezu countered firmly.
The negotiation continued for several minutes, but the immediate crisis had passed. The HSPC would not be taking Meiji today—a victory, if a temporary one.
Throughout the discussion, Nejire remained blissfully oblivious to her role in defusing a dangerous confrontation, chattering happily to Meiji about all the different shapes he could make with his shadows and demonstrating increasingly complex spiral patterns with her own quirk.
And Meiji, though still watchful and wary of the HSPC agents, had begun to respond to her questions with actual words rather than just shadow formations—single-word answers at first, then short phrases, his voice growing slightly more confident with each exchange.
When Kamui Woods finally located his missing student, apologizing profusely for the interruption, Nejire seemed genuinely disappointed to leave.
"Can I come see you again?" she asked Meiji directly. "I want to show you more spiral patterns. Maybe we could make a shadow-spiral garden together!"
Meiji looked up at Lady Nagant, a silent question in his eyes.
"We'll arrange something," Nagant promised, surprising herself with how naturally the commitment came.
As Nejire was led away, still waving enthusiastically, Meiji's shadows formed a small waving hand in return—a gesture of such simple, childlike normalcy that Nagant felt something shift within her chest. Unknown yet to her, something in that moment shifted inside her.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - AN: Hey! It's me again, turns out this chapter was kinda crazy for me, felt like I was getting schizophrenic with trying to keep all people in with all their different behaviors / reactions.
And actually I was thinking about what my first reviewer said about his 4 star character dev... hmm 🤔.
And I can put those [image of 'name'] if ya'll want but ya'll have to fill it up yourselfs... I'm honestly too lazy to enter my novel and add it... I've discovered how to answer comments from the writers side so no way jose looking for them hehe.
Anyway, let me know if I nailed it, missed it, or how it went, tried changing my perspective after remembering how some novels added aizawa behaviors with dried eyes, sleepiness and everything ( I just haven't been able to apply it because the situation).