Kurose Kuro now had two quirks.
The first was [Injury Replacement], which had awakened when he was four and been pushed past its limits by the time he was five. It allowed him to take on others' injuries and transfer his own injuries to someone else. After overusing it, however, he had lost the ability to pass damage outward. Now, he could only take injuries onto himself.
The second was [Pain Recall], recently awakened. It recorded every instance of pain he had experienced and allowed him to release that pain onto others. It didn't create new pain, nor could it reduce it.
"Kuro, come here."
On the first day of his special training, Nekoyama Fumiko had invited the U.A. treatment specialist to assist.
Kuro felt uneasy.
He knew how powerful her quirk was. She could accelerate the body's natural healing process, a rare and valuable ability, especially in a place like U.A. High School. Someone like her should be treating patients, not standing here for training.
Was this supposed to help him?
Or was it something else?
After greeting her, he found himself at a loss for words.
The treatment specialist studied his scarred face, her expression softening. She had learned about his past and understood more than most. The more she knew, the harder it was not to feel for him.
"Don't be nervous," she said gently. "Let's take this slowly."
"…Okay."
She and Granny Neko were both concerned that, after the long-tongue incident, Kuro lacked the ability to protect himself. This training was meant to address that.
They led him into the small courtyard.
He removed his socks and stepped into the shallow spring water.
"How does it feel?" Fumiko asked.
"…Cold."
"Good. Now try using your quirk."
She meant [Pain Recall].
Kuro hesitated.
Just thinking about it made his body tense.
Still, he did as he was told.
The moment he activated it, the pain hit.
It was like being sliced apart by blades, like his head was being torn open by something sharp and mechanical. His thoughts scattered, his senses overwhelmed.
He screamed.
"Ahhh—!"
Fumiko's heart skipped. She rushed forward, trying to stop him.
It didn't work.
There was no clear way to interrupt the quirk once it started. No one else could interfere, and Kuro himself was too consumed by pain to control it.
"Move!"
The treatment specialist shoved him into the shallow pool with her cane.
The cold water hit instantly.
The shock forced his body to react.
Kuro gasped, shivering violently as awareness returned.
The pain didn't disappear.
But the cold anchored him.
He could think again.
He could move.
By the time they brought him back inside, his body was soaked. They dried him off and wrapped him in warm clothes. A cup of hot tea was pressed into his hands.
The treatment specialist watched him carefully, then let out a quiet sigh.
"At first, we thought your second quirk might help you defend yourself. If you could weaponize pain, it could be effective."
She shook her head.
"But the drawback is too severe."
Kuro understood.
Before anyone else felt the pain, he had to relive it himself.
Exactly as it had happened.
It didn't dull over time.
It didn't lessen with familiarity.
Every use brought the full weight of it back.
The opponent would feel the same thing.
But so would he.
At the hospital, five staff members had collapsed from his quirk.
But he had been worse.
He had lost control completely.
"This kind of quirk…" the treatment specialist said quietly, "is as dangerous to you as it is to anyone else."
Fumiko said nothing.
The room fell silent.
Finally, the treatment specialist spoke again.
"Let's drop quirk training. It's not suitable for him right now. I'll arrange for someone to teach him basic combat instead."
Kuro's body still hadn't fully recovered from his injuries. Even simple training would be difficult, and his options for the future were narrowing.
A combat-oriented hero path was no longer realistic.
Fumiko, the treatment specialist, and even Shinso Hitoshi had come to the same conclusion.
They didn't expect him to become a hero anymore.
They just wanted him to live.
Kuro finished his tea slowly. His hands still trembled, but he had regained some control.
"…Then I'll learn to fight," he said.
The pain hadn't gone away.
Not completely.
His voice was unsteady.
"I wasn't planning to rely on my quirk anyway. It hurts too much."
Fumiko and the treatment specialist exchanged a glance, then nodded.
For now, that was enough.
They waited until his condition stabilized further before preparing to leave.
Just then, Fujita Emi hurried over.
Behind her stood a sharply dressed woman with a composed, professional demeanor. She carried a neatly wrapped package.
"Granny Neko," Emi said awkwardly, "she insists on seeing Kuro."
"He's resting," Fumiko replied.
"I'm here to express my thanks," the woman said.
"You can leave it with us," Fumiko said evenly. "Kuro needs quiet."
Her tone was polite, but her posture was guarded.
Ever since the last incident, she trusted very little.
The woman shook her head.
"I'm sorry, but I need to give this to him personally."
"This puts us in a difficult position," Emi said. "Could you come back another time? He hasn't been seeing visitors."
"I'm leaving the day after tomorrow," the woman said. "I came today for a reason."
She paused.
Then added, "I have something that belonged to the fallen hero, Kurose Haruto."
The room went silent.
No one spoke.
That name wasn't mentioned here.
Not lightly.
Kurose Haruto.
A fallen hero.
Kuro's father.
The door opened.
Kuro stood there, wrapped in a blanket, a cup of tea still in his hands. His face was pale, his body unsteady. The effects of his quirk hadn't fully faded.
"I'll come out," he said quietly. "Granny… it's fine."
"But—"
"It's okay. Everyone's here."
He stepped forward slowly, his footing uneven.
Then he bowed slightly.
"Please… come in."