With the puppy cradled carefully in her arms, Kimi led Junsei into the orphanage building. By now, word had already spread. Kagome and Kikyo were waiting for them.
Kagome folded her arms. "What happened out there, Kimi?"
Kimi smiled and gently pointed toward Junsei.
"He has a quirk," she said. "It allows him to communicate with animals, understand what they're thinking and feeling. He stopped the children from playing with the puppy because it was afraid. He was trying to help the puppy."
Both caretakers stared at Junsei in shock.
"But the doctor said…" Kikyo began.
"He was wrong," Kimi said firmly, cutting in. Then she turned to Junsei. "Why don't you show Mrs. Kagome and Mrs. Kikyo your quirk? Talk to the puppy."
Junsei hesitated. "But you don't understand what it says," he replied quietly.
Kimi blinked, then nodded. "Right… then can you ask it to do something for us? Something obvious. Like moving in a certain way."
Junsei nodded once. "Please put it down."
Kimi lowered the puppy to the ground. It wobbled slightly, looking around in confusion.
Junsei's eyes began to glow faintly as he stared at it. The puppy barked once, sharply, as if in response. Junsei spoke evenly. "It will walk one step forward, then one step back. After that, it will bark twice."
The puppy did exactly that.
Kagome and Kikyo gasped, then exchanged a look of astonishment. Kagome's face softened into a smile.
"You really do have a quirk, Junsei," she said. "And it's an amazing one."
"We're sorry," Kikyo added gently. "We told you that you didn't have one."
Junsei said nothing. He simply stared at them.
Kimi spoke again. "Junsei can also communicate with insects like spiders and ants" she said, deliberately emphasizing the words "Spiders" and "Ants"
The caretakers' expressions changed at once. Pity crept into their eyes as understanding dawned. Junsei's strange behavior since he was baby finally began to make sense. In his silence, he must have been speaking with insects and animals. Then they thought of the insects crushed without a thought, the ants burned for fun, and the way Junsei always watched such things in silence. To him, those creatures might have been his friends.
Kimi picked up the puppy again. "It wants to go back to its mother at the pet shop," she said. "I'll take it back. Could you explain this to the children?"
"Of course," Kagome said at once.
"Don't worry," Kikyo added. "We'll handle it."
Kimi turned to Junsei. "I'll return it to its mother, and then I'll come back. Okay?"
Junsei nodded.
Kimi waved to him and the caretakers and left.
Kagome then looked down at Junsei. "Let's go tell the others about your quirk," she said kindly. "And don't be shy about explaining it. You can make friends that way."
Junsei nodded again.
Together, the caretakers led him back into the courtyard, where the children were already waiting, eyes searching for the puppy.
Kagome and Kikyo explained that the puppy had been missing its mother, and that Junsei could understand what it was feeling. They told them about his quirk, how he could speak with animals and insects.
Disappointment spread quickly among the children. Sykes was the first to speak. "What if he was lying?"
Kagome shook her head sharply. "That's not nice, Sykes."
Sykes scowled. "It's not fair. We don't get to play with it just because he says so."
"The puppy missed its mother," Kikyo said softly. "Would you want to force it to stay here?"
Sykes hesitated, then muttered, "If we don't keep it, someone else will. Right?"
Both caretakers were taken aback.
"You can't think like that!" Kagome said. "The puppy being back with its mother is what matters."
"But the shop will sell it anyway," Sykes argued. "Miss Kimi brought it for all of us, it is not fair that he gets to decide what we do with it."
The other children began to look at Junsei with more resentment.
Junsei watched them quietly. Then he spoke.
"It is not nice," he said, "to be taken away from your mother or father. You all should know that. You don't have them."
The words landed heavily.
Kagome and Kikyo were visibly troubled. Some of the children looked down, their disappointment turning into aching. Sykes's face tightened, his resentment deepening.
"All right," Kagome said quickly. "That's enough. Let's all remember something important, small creatures like ants can speak and feel too, even if we don't understand them. And if you're ever curious about what something is saying, you can ask Junsei."
Kikyo smiled gently. "And Ms. Kimi will be coming back soon to play with all of you."
But their words did little to elevate the children's spirit.
——————
Less than an hour later, the courtyard had slipped back into its familiar rhythm.
Junsei sat alone beneath the shade, his gaze fixed ahead as usual. Around him, the children resumed their games as if nothing had happened, laughing and shouting while carefully pretending he did not exist. Kagome and Kikyo watched the scene with quiet frustration.
Junsei made no attempt to approach anyone, and the children still resented him over the puppy and had no interest in approaching him either. The caretakers tried, more than once, to encourage the others to speak to him, to ask about his quirk, to include him in play. Each attempt was met with silence, averted eyes, or stubborn shakes of the head.
When Kimi returned, they explained what had happened. She listened, then sighed. Her effort to fix things had failed spectacularly. Keeping the puppy would have led to conflict, perhaps even violence, if Junsei felt compelled to protect it. Sending it back had made him the object of quiet blame.
As Kimi stood there thinking, her eyes wandered across the courtyard until she noticed a small worm inching its way through the dirt. An idea sparked in her mind to soften the children's resentment and draw Junsei out of his shell.
She clapped her hands loudly.
"Everyone, come here! Let's do something new!"
The children immediately rushed toward her. Kimi then turned toward the shade. "Junsei, come here as well."
Junsei looked at her but did not move.
"Please," she added, smiling.
After a long moment, he stood and walked toward her. As he did, the children instinctively stepped back, creating a clear space around him.
Kimi noticed and felt a pang of worry, but she pressed on. "Look here, everyone," she said, pointing to the ground. "See this little worm crawling along? Aren't you curious to know what it's doing here?"
The children stared down at it.
"Worms crawl in the dirt," one of them said flatly. "That's all."
Kimi turned to Junsei. "Junsei, can you ask it what it's doing here?"
Junsei hesitated but recalling his earlier conversation with Kimi and how human lack of understanding makes them behave, he felt compelled to let them understand. Slowly, he shifted his gaze to the worm. His blue eyes began to glow faintly.
A moment later, he looked back up.
"It is here to reproduce," he said calmly. "Another worm left its trace nearby. It is heading toward it."
Kimi blinked, surprised.
"What's 'reproduce'?" a child asked.
"It creates children with another worm," Junsei replied without hesitation.
An older girl frowned. "Do worms kiss to make babies?"
Junsei shook his head. "Creatures do not kiss to have children. Most types have male and female. They use their body parts to reproduce. Once this worm finds its mate, they will attach to each other and form a sack between them. The female inserts eggs, and the male inserts its essence."
The children stared at him, puzzled and silent.
Kimi, meanwhile, was taken aback. She hadn't known worms reproduced that way. She hadn't even known how insects reproduced at all. Had the worm truly told him this in such a short moment? And was this something children their age should be hearing?
"But children come when a man and woman love each other and kiss," the girl insisted.
"That is not how it works," Junsei said evenly. "Humans should be similar to other animals, like cats. The body part between the male's legs is inserted into the female part. This causes the female to become pregnant. If you do it with a male next to you, you should have a baby, though I am not sure which hole works for that purpose in humans."
Kimi froze.
"Okay," she said quickly, her voice tight, "that's enough. No more talk about making babies."
But it was already too late.
Every child had turned toward her now, eyes wide and expectant, waiting for her to explain or for her to say whether Junsei was telling the truth or not. Kimi felt a cold realization settle over her. They were too young to talk about this kind of stuff. She had opened a can of worms that she had no idea how to close.
In the end, the only thought left in her mind was 'why did the animals or insects teach Junsei about this? Was there nothing better to talk about like tasty food?'
She would have never guessed that Junsei had more experience than most living things in the world.