After returning to the villa, Yaoyorozu Chihiro collapsed onto the sofa, as though a heavy burden had finally been lifted from his shoulders. His expression was unreadable as he gently stroked the ring on his index finger, a faint, meaningful smile forming at the corners of his lips.
He had never denied being a kendo genius.
If the reflex speed of an ordinary person was theoretically 0.12 seconds—though in practice it usually reached 0.2 or even 0.3 seconds—then Chihiro was something entirely different. His reflexes measured at 0.14 seconds, infinitely close to the absolute limit of the human body. Such terrifying reaction speed granted him an almost instinctive mastery of swordsmanship. At just five years old, he had already been capable of wielding a sharp dagger and cutting down an armed adult.
It was easy to imagine just how horrifying his sense for kendo truly was.
And yet, what filled him with regret was the fact that, in the eyes of the world, he possessed no Quirk. In a society where Quirks were everything, what it meant to be Quirkless was painfully clear to everyone. Even something as trivial as an ordinary person breathing fire from their mouth was enough to command respect. This was precisely why Chihiro had trained his swordsmanship with near-mad obsession since childhood. He refused to accept a life of mediocrity. He refused to remain ordinary forever.
His relentless training soon caught the attention of Yaoyorozu Momo's parents. Especially when Chihiro was only nine years old—holding a katana in his hands as he defeated the most famous dojo warriors in the town—he became the first person they thought to invite into their household.
Chihiro did not refuse. There was no real reason to. His parents had both passed away when he was very young, dying bravely in a profession known as Heroes.
From the moment they died, he became an orphan.
With no guardian to rely on, he spent half a year growing up in an orphanage.
When those memories surfaced, Chihiro's eyes grew cold, an indescribable chill radiating from him. Heroes, in his eyes, were nothing more than laughable fools obsessed with grandstanding—just like his dead parents. They had rushed into a burning building to save a child despite lacking sufficient strength, only to be caught in a surprise attack and killed as a result.
Thinking back on his childhood—possessing the mind of an adult while enduring the suffering of an orphan and the cold stares of others—Chihiro clenched his fists tightly.
Suddenly, his right hand pressed against the sofa, and his body sprang up like a coiled spring. With the sharp awareness honed through years of sword training, Chihiro carefully confirmed that no one was nearby before walking toward the bookshelf.
Taking a deep breath, he pulled out books from the second, third, and fifth shelves in a specific order.
Zzz—
The bookshelf rotated mechanically, emitting a strange sound. In the next instant, a dark opening appeared behind it.
Staring at the passage—just wide enough for a single person to enter—Chihiro sneered faintly and slipped inside like a loach.
…
After some time, he arrived at a relatively spacious area. It resembled a cellar—perhaps it had once been one, before Chihiro personally renovated it.
His gaze fell upon the green-haired girl bound tightly like a rice dumpling in the center of the room. Without hesitation, Chihiro walked straight toward her.
"Aoba Kokoro."
A classmate of Yaoyorozu Momo.
A few days ago, she had mysteriously gone missing, vanishing without a trace. The incident caused a huge public outcry, drawing even top-ranked Heroes into the search. Yet no matter how thorough the effort, she was never found. Eventually, the police were forced to record the case as a missing person.
No one would have imagined that she was here.
Looking at the girl who appeared to be asleep, her green hair cascading down like a waterfall and her fair, translucent skin faintly glowing even in the dim cellar, Chihiro couldn't help but sigh. The Quirk Super Cure was truly terrifying—her body, once covered in wounds only days ago, had already fully recovered.
As the name implied, Aoba Kokoro possessed a powerful healing-type Quirk. In Chihiro's eyes, it was an ability with immense potential. Unfortunately, its user failed to live up to it. Even within Yaoyorozu Momo's class, she ranked only in the middle. If not for her gentle beauty and jade-like warmth, she would have been just another face lost in the crowd.
Her misfortune had begun when she accidentally fell from a cliff.
Chihiro, who happened to be passing by, picked her up.
Without hesitation, his right hand pressed against her chest. The soft sensation caused his heart to waver for a brief moment—but this was no time for distractions. With a single thought, the ring on his index finger suddenly burst into a red glow.
Boom.
Like a surge of flame, a beam of red light penetrated her skin.
At the same time, unfamiliar information flooded into Chihiro's mind.
[Analysis of "Super Cure" at 98%. Continuing analysis…]
Tonight was the final night.
Two mornings ago, when he encountered the unconscious girl lying nearby and reached out to help her up, the information had appeared in his mind the moment he touched her.
[Analysis begins.]
At that moment, Chihiro realized that his Quirk was awakening.
Without hesitation, he took her away and hid her here. There was only one opportunity—he could not afford to miss it.
His thoughts churned wildly, yet it felt as though a century had passed before a clear, resonant sound echoed in his mind.
Ding.
[Analysis complete. "Super Cure" is being generated.]