Granny Neko wasn't surprised by Kuro's answer.
She finished the last of her soup, licked the corner of her mouth, and idly stroked her whisker-like beard.
"If you're avoiding it because of your parents' deaths… if you're running from the fate of the Kurose family," she said calmly, "that won't work, Kuro."
Kuro's expression tightened.
The scars across his face twisted with the movement, making him look more intimidating than he intended. A nearby child caught sight of him and burst into tears.
Granny Neko sighed. "Ease up. You're scaring the kid."
She picked the child up and soothed them, her tone softening as she distracted them with a playful flick of her tail.
Kuro clenched his hands.
"You know no one in the Kurose family lives past forty," he said quietly. "Once I use my quirk on a person… there's only one outcome."
His voice dropped.
"Death."
His quirk had been pushed beyond its limits during the Kita Bay City incident ten years ago. Since then, transferring damage to or from a human body would cost him everything.
He didn't want to die.
He wanted to live.
Fragments of memory surfaced without warning.
"…Kuro… I'm sorry…"
"…You're the last of the Kurose family…"
"…Please… live."
"…Don't take revenge."
"…Don't become a Hero."
"…Please…"
Blood-stained hands. A fading voice.
Kuro shut his eyes for a moment, as if he could still feel the warmth of that blood against his skin.
Then he opened them.
"I won't become a Hero," he said firmly.
Granny Neko didn't argue. She simply opened the door and waved him off.
"Go on. You'll be late."
The conversation ended there.
But it didn't disappear.
At school, the classroom buzzed with excitement.
The teacher held up a stack of application forms. "Everyone here has a great quirk. Think carefully about your future paths."
Students were already talking over each other, discussing which Hero courses they would apply to. For most of them, there was no real debate.
Hero course. First choice.
"Anyone aiming for U.A. this year?"
The name alone shifted the energy in the room.
U.A. High School.
The top Hero academy in the country. Highly competitive. Nearly impossible to get into. The place that had produced legends.
Kuro sat in the corner, quietly scanning through nursing school options.
No one spoke to him.
Between his scarred face and his unimpressive quirk, most people assumed he either didn't have one or that it was useless. That assumption had made him a target in the past. Bullying, isolation… none of it had been subtle.
He had learned to ignore it.
"They say you need top scores just to qualify for U.A.'s Hero course."
Kuro glanced at his own practice exam results.
A+.
"I heard there are two strong applicants this year. One's Bakugo Katsuki."
"Of course. Anyone aiming for U.A. has to be exceptional."
"What about the other one?"
"I don't know his name… but apparently, he doesn't even have a quirk."
That drew laughter.
"Then he's just like Kurose. A total freak."
"Keep it down, he'll hear you."
Kuro lowered his gaze, focusing on the form in front of him.
He hadn't decided on a specific nursing school yet.
Better to study. Work through more problems. Make a practical choice.
Still…
A quirkless student aiming for U.A.
That took something unusual.
The day passed quickly.
After school, Kuro stood with a broom in hand.
"Sorry, Kurose-kun, we're in a rush today," one of the girls said, flashing an apologetic smile. "We'll take our turn next time, I promise."
She stuck out her tongue playfully before hurrying off.
Kuro nodded and took over their cleaning duty without complaint.
"Thanks, Kurose-kun!"
Her voice faded as she and her friends headed down the stairs, already chatting about which dessert shop to visit.
"I can't believe Mei actually talks to him."
"Well, if you ask him for help, he always says yes. Still… I wouldn't want to be around him otherwise."
Their voices carried just far enough.
Kuro continued sweeping.
He was used to it.
People avoided him, but they relied on him when it was convenient. That was enough.
For him, life was simple.
Don't become a Hero.
Stay alive.
That was all.
Cleaning the outdoor area was harder than it looked.
Trash ended up everywhere—under bushes, tangled in tree branches, even floating in the pond.
Kuro moved methodically, collecting what he could.
Voices drifted down from the upper floors.
"Don't even think about applying to U.A., idiot!"
A sharp, aggressive voice.
Then, louder:
"If you're so desperate to get a quirk in your next life, go jump off the roof!"
Kuro glanced up briefly, then back to his work.
In the pond, something caught his eye.
A scorched notebook floated near the edge, its pages warped but still intact in the center.
He reached down and picked it up.
The cover was damaged, but the contents were readable.
Page after page of detailed notes.
Hero analysis.
Strategies. Observations. Careful handwriting.
Whoever wrote this… took it seriously.
"Hey! That's mine!"
Kuro looked up.
A boy with messy green hair came running toward him, slightly out of breath. His eyes were still wet, like he'd been holding back tears. Freckles dotted his face.
"Th-that's my notebook… thank you," he said, taking it carefully. "Did you… read it?"
Kuro nodded.
He wasn't sure if the boy meant the notebook or what had just happened upstairs.
The boy fidgeted, unsure what to do with his hands.
He didn't look strong.
No presence of a quirk, at least not an obvious one.
Yet he was aiming for U.A.
Kuro studied him for a moment.
"Why apply to U.A.?" he asked.
The boy hesitated, then answered simply:
"If I don't try, I'll never know what I could do."