Shinso Hitoshi released his quirk and offered a sincere apology.
Kuro didn't respond. He simply picked up his mask from the ground, put it back on, and walked away.
"Sorry. I didn't mean any harm."
"Was that supposed to be funny?" Kuro replied without stopping.
"…Sorry."
Shinso hesitated, then followed after him.
"We knew each other when we were kids," he said. "You weren't like this back then."
Kuro stopped at his door and turned, his gaze sharp.
"Good. Then I don't remember you acting like an idiot either," he said. "And if you ever use your quirk on me again, I won't let it slide."
Shinso let out a breath, frustration creeping into his voice.
"Kuro, I didn't do it on purpose. We used to play together before our quirks manifested. Don't you remember? We made a promise."
Kuro said nothing, reaching for the door.
"You said you wanted to become a Hero," Shinso continued, raising his voice. "You wanted to be someone like your father. We were going to apply to U.A. together—"
Kuro turned back, his expression cold beneath the mask.
Moonlight spilled across the corridor, quiet and pale. The summer air was warm, but the tension between them felt anything but.
"You want me to become a Hero," Kuro said, "and die like my father did?"
His voice was steady.
"Why should I? For some idea of family honor? For a legacy that burns through people's lives? You're talking like it's simple, but you don't understand anything. Have you ever looked at it from someone else's side?"
He took a step forward.
"I don't want to be a Hero. I don't want anything to do with it. And I'm not going to U.A."
Shinso opened his mouth, but Kuro cut him off.
"You have a strong quirk. Of course you wouldn't get it."
The words landed hard.
Shinso fell silent.
Memories surfaced unbidden.
Before their quirks had awakened, Shinso would visit the Kurose estate every year. The family had a long history, even before quirks existed, known for their medical expertise.
Back then, Kuro didn't wear a mask.
He used to sit on the floor, surrounded by medals and trophies his father had brought home. The two of them would watch old footage together—Hero rescues, disaster response, moments that defined what it meant to save people.
One video stood out.
A Hero stood amid chaos, fire lighting the sky behind him. Civilians cried out in fear, but his voice cut through it all.
"It's okay now!"
"Why?" someone shouted.
"Because I'm here!"
The confidence in those words settled people's panic almost instantly.
Kuro and Shinso had stared at the screen, wide-eyed.
"That's amazing," Shinso had said.
"I'll become a Hero like that someday," he added.
Kuro had grinned, standing on a chair as if claiming the future for himself.
"My dad's the best Hero. I'll be even better."
"Then we'll both go to U.A.," Shinso had said, clenching his fist. "We'll become Heroes together."
"U.A.?"
"It's the best Hero school. All Might graduated from there."
Kuro's eyes had lit up.
"Then I'll go too. And I'll be better than you."
The memory faded.
Kuro stood in the present, breathing unevenly. His eyes were fixed on the ground, his vision slightly blurred.
He wiped his face, then shut the door.
"Kuro—"
Shinso's voice came again, sharper this time.
But there was no response.
Whether Kuro ignored him or simply refused to answer, it made no difference.
Shinso lowered his hand slowly and turned away.
His expression darkened with frustration.
He had been excited to come here. Granny Neko had written to him, explaining how much Kuro had changed and asking him to help. She hoped he could remind Kuro of the person he used to be.
But he couldn't reach him.
At the far end of the corridor, Granny Neko and Shinso's grandfather stood quietly, having witnessed everything.
"If he doesn't want it, then let it go," the old man said with a sigh. "You've seen it yourself. His decision is clear."
Granny Neko shook her head.
"I'm worried someone will target him," she said. "Kuro may be weak now, but his potential hasn't disappeared."
She looked toward the courtyard.
"From any perspective, U.A. is still the best option."
"The school nurse is there as well."
The old man didn't argue.
Granny Neko's gaze drifted to a worn wind chime hanging in the yard. One of its pieces was broken, swaying slightly in the breeze.
"I don't know how much longer I can look after him," she murmured.
"Don't worry," Shinso's grandfather replied. "It's been ten years. Seeing him again was enough for my grandson. And since U.A. is nearby, this visit wasn't a waste."
He paused, then added quietly,
"Shinso's quirk is strong. He knows that."
Behind the closed door, Kuro sat on the floor.
He listened to their footsteps fade, staring out the window in silence.
Sleep didn't come easily that night.
The next morning, the newspaper landed in the mailbox as usual.
Fujita Emi turned on the TV while the children gathered for breakfast, bowls in hand.
"Good morning, Granny Neko."
"Morning," she replied. "Kuro, eat in the hall today. Help me out."
She rarely wore formal clothes like this.
Kuro nodded and headed to the main hall.
Shinso and his grandfather were already there, sitting at the table. Avoiding them entirely wasn't an option, so Kuro gave a brief nod.
"Morning."
"Morning."
The TV played a news report.
Footage showed a green-haired boy being scolded by Pro Heroes.
"You shouldn't have taken that risk," one of them said sternly.
The screen froze, labeled: Dangerous Incident.
The anchor's voice followed.
"We urge the public to learn from this and avoid reckless rescue attempts. Personal safety must come first. Always wait for professional Heroes."
The footage changed.
A tall figure raised a fist into the sky. The surrounding crowd erupted.
"It's All Might!"
"Just one punch changed the weather!"
"The No.1 Hero… amazing!"
Even the room fell quiet.
Shinso, his grandfather, and Granny Neko all focused on the screen.
Kuro ate silently.
The green-haired boy…
Messy hair. Freckles.
He paused mid-bite.
Right.
Midoriya Izuku.
The same boy from yesterday.
The one who said he would still try for U.A.