Lady Nagant's POV
The apartment was quiet that evening, the tension of the day's confrontation lingering in the air despite its unexpected resolution. Nagant moved through their evening routine with practiced efficiency—preparing dinner, reviewing training notes, setting out clothes for the following day.
Yet something had fundamentally changed. Her decision to defy Kujō had crossed a line that could never be uncrossed. After years of perfect loyalty, of following orders without question, she had made a choice based on something the HSPC had trained her to disregard—personal attachment.
Meiji sat at the small table, shadows forming elaborate patterns that replicated the spiral energy Nejire had demonstrated earlier. He had been unusually quiet since returning from the conference room, though his shadows seemed more active than ever, constantly shifting through various forms as if processing the day's events.
"Are you tired?" Nagant asked, setting his dinner before him.
Meiji shook his head, though the shadows briefly formed a pattern that suggested otherwise.
"Your quirk disagrees," she noted with gentle humor.
A small smile flickered across his face—rare enough to be significant. The shadows swirled in what might have been embarrassment before settling into calmer patterns.
"The girl today," Meiji said after several moments of silence. "Nejire."
"Yes?"
"She wasn't afraid." He said it with the same wonder he had expressed after their first garden encounter, as if this fact remained the most surprising thing about her.
"No, she wasn't," Nagant agreed. "Some people see beyond appearances."
Meiji considered this, shadows forming thoughtful swirls. "Can I... see her again?"
The simple question caught Nagant off guard. It was the first time Meiji had specifically requested social interaction—a breakthrough in itself.
"Principal Nezu mentioned arranging supervised play sessions," she replied. "If that's what you'd like."
Meiji nodded, shadows bobbing in synchronization. "Her quirk felt... warm. Next to mine."
This observation intrigued Nagant. "Warm how?"
"Like..." He frowned slightly, searching for words. "Like sunlight. When it touches shadow edges."
It was perhaps the most poetic thing she had ever heard him say, and certainly the most words he had strung together at once. His time with Nejire, brief as it was, had sparked something new in him—curiosity about connection rather than fear of it.
"The commission people," Meiji said after another long silence. "They wanted to take me away."
Nagant hadn't been sure how much he had understood of the confrontation. Clearly, more than she had hoped.
"Yes," she acknowledged, seeing no value in lying. "But they didn't."
"Because of you," he said, eyes meeting hers directly. "You said no."
The simple observation carried weight beyond the words themselves. Meiji had witnessed her defiance—her choice to protect him over following orders. It created a new dynamic between them, one Nagant wasn't entirely sure how to navigate.
"I made a promise to keep you safe," she said finally. "I keep my promises."
Meiji nodded, seemingly satisfied with this explanation. His shadows formed what appeared to be a small representation of Nagant herself, standing protective and tall.
"What happens now?" he asked.
It was the question Nagant had been asking herself since walking out of that conference room. Her decision had consequences—ones that would manifest sooner rather than later. The HSPC didn't tolerate insubordination, particularly from an operative with her specialized training and quirk.
"Now we continue your training," she said, focusing on what she could control rather than what she couldn't. "You're making excellent progress."
"And then?" he persisted, surprising her again with his directness.
Nagant considered how to answer. The future had always been a simple concept for her—the next mission, the next target, the next objective. Now it stretched before her, filled with uncertainties and possibilities she had never contemplated.
"And then," she said carefully, "you'll learn to use your quirk however you choose. Not how others want you to use it."
It was, she realized, as much a statement about her own future as his. Choice—the concept she had surrendered when joining the HSPC, the freedom she was now reclaiming at significant risk.
"Together?" Meiji asked, the word so quiet she almost didn't hear it.
The question struck at the heart of what had changed. Somewhere between rescuing a terrified child from a research facility and defying her superiors to protect him, Lady Nagant—the commission's perfect weapon—had become something else entirely.
"Yes," she promised. "Together."
The shadows around Meiji settled into calm, flowing patterns, the most peaceful configuration she had seen since their arrival at UA. As he finished his dinner and prepared for bed, Nagant found herself contemplating a future she had never imagined—one defined not by orders and objectives, but by the simple promise she had just made to a child who had somehow found his way past every barrier her training had established.
Nezu's POV
Nezu's office had transformed into a strategic command center, screens displaying security protocols, legal documents, and contingency plans. Gathered around his desk were key UA faculty members—Aizawa, Recovery Girl, Thirteen, and Present Mic—each reviewing different aspects of what Nezu had termed "Operation Shadow Garden."
"The HSPC's retreat today was tactical, not principled," Nezu explained, manipulating the holographic display to show the commission's recent activity patterns. "They recognized that forcing the issue in that moment would have been counterproductive, especially with an unexpected witness present."
"The blue-haired hurricane," Present Mic chuckled. "Talk about perfect timing!"
"Indeed," Nezu agreed. "Nejire Hado's intervention was fortuitous in more ways than one. Not only did she defuse an immediate confrontation, but she demonstrated something of significant scientific value—Meiji's quirk responds with remarkable stability to positive peer interaction, particularly with compatible quirk types."
"The shadow-spiral harmony was unlike anything I've seen," Thirteen noted. "Two quirks naturally complementing each other without any training or preparation."
"Exactly," Nezu said, highlighting data from Meiji's quirk monitor. "These readings show a level of quirk stability we haven't achieved through any structured training. The implications for quirk development theory are fascinating—and potentially crucial for our current situation."
Aizawa, ever practical, cut to the heart of the matter. "The HSPC won't back off permanently. What's our timeline?"
"I estimate three to five days before they attempt legal intervention," Nezu replied. "My sources indicate they're preparing documentation for an emergency quirk custody order, citing national security provisions that would override standard child welfare protections."
"Can they do that?" Present Mic asked, uncharacteristically serious.
"They can try," Nezu said, his pleasant tone belying the steel beneath. "However, I've taken preemptive measures. Judge Tanaka has already received our petition for protective educational custody, supported by comprehensive development data and expert testimony regarding the psychological harm of institutional containment for a trauma survivor."
"And if legal measures fail?" Aizawa pressed.
Nezu's expression remained cheerful, though his eyes took on a calculating gleam. "That's why we're implementing multiple contingency plans simultaneously. The most promising of which involves accelerated peer integration."
He adjusted the display to show profiles of several children, including Nejire Hado.
"Young Nejire demonstrated something remarkable today—that positive quirk interaction not only stabilizes Meiji's shadows but accelerates his social development. We'll be expanding this approach with a carefully selected peer group, creating documented evidence of optimal development within our current framework."
"You're building a case that removing him would constitute harm," Recovery Girl observed with approval.
"Precisely," Nezu confirmed. "The HSPC's primary justification for assuming custody is quirk security. If we demonstrate conclusively that optimal quirk stability occurs within our current arrangement, their position becomes untenable."
"What about Lady Nagant?" Aizawa asked. "Her defiance today won't go unpunished by the commission."
"Indeed," Nezu acknowledged. "Which brings us to the most delicate aspect of our strategy. Agent Nagant has taken a monumental step away from her HSPC conditioning. Her choice to protect Meiji over following orders represents a fundamental shift in loyalty—one the commission will recognize and respond to aggressively."
"She'll be recalled," Aizawa predicted. "Possibly as soon as tomorrow."
"Almost certainly," Nezu agreed. "Which is why I've prepared these." He produced a set of documents bearing the UA seal. "Emergency teaching credentials and a provisional hero license application. If she accepts, Lady Nagant would officially join UA's faculty as a quirk control specialist, placing her under our institutional protection rather than HSPC authority."
Present Mic whistled. "That's playing hardball with the commission."
"They played hardball first," Nezu replied, his cheerful tone unchanged though something cold entered his eyes. "When they attempted to remove a traumatized child for 'assessment' that would have constituted continued experimentation."
The room fell silent as each faculty member considered the implications. The HSPC was a powerful government agency with broad authority and little oversight. Opposing them directly was not without significant risk.
"There's something else," Nezu continued after a moment. "Today's events confirmed a theory I've been developing about Meiji's quirk enhancement. The researchers weren't simply attempting to increase its power—they were specifically targeting its empathic properties."
He displayed the fragmented research data recovered from the facility, highlighting key phrases: "emotional resonance amplification," "shadow sentience thresholds," and "autonomous defense protocols."
"Meiji's shadows don't just reflect his emotions—they respond to the emotions of others around him. Defensively toward perceived threats, constructively toward positive interactions. It's a far more sophisticated quirk evolution than simple power enhancement."
"Quirk singularity," Recovery Girl murmured. "The theoretical point where quirks become too complex for their users to fully control."
"Yes," Nezu agreed. "I believe the researchers were attempting to accelerate and study this process—to create a quirk that could evolve beyond its user's conscious direction while maintaining emotional alignment."
"For what purpose?" Thirteen asked.
"That," Nezu said grimly, "is the question that truly concerns me. Whatever their objective, I suspect the HSPC wishes to continue rather than curtail that research—which explains their insistence on transferring Meiji to their facility despite our demonstrated progress with his control training."
Aizawa's expression darkened. "They want to pick up where the villains left off."
"With better resources and government sanction," Nezu confirmed. "All in the name of national security, of course."
The implications hung heavily in the air—a government agency continuing the very experimentation they had supposedly shut down, using a child as a research subject under the guise of quirk security protocols.
"So what's our next move?" Present Mic asked finally.
"We proceed with Operation Shadow Garden," Nezu replied. "Accelerated peer integration, comprehensive documentation of Meiji's development, legal protective measures, and—if she agrees—transitioning Lady Nagant from HSPC operative to UA faculty."
He looked around at each of them, his expression serious despite his perpetual smile. "The HSPC sees Meiji as a quirk to be controlled and studied. We see a child to be protected and nurtured. That fundamental difference will guide every decision we make moving forward."
As the meeting concluded and the faculty departed with their assignments, Nezu remained at his desk, reviewing the data from Meiji's interaction with Nejire one more time. The harmony between shadow and spiral, darkness and light, had produced the most stable quirk readings they had recorded yet.
Sometimes, Nezu reflected, the solutions to the most complex problems were remarkably simple. A child needed not just training, but friendship. Not just control, but connection.
And perhaps the same was true for a certain sniper who had spent too many years seeing herself as nothing more than a weapon.
Meiji's POV
The shadows felt different tonight. Smoother. More responsive. Like they were listening better, understanding what he wanted before he even fully formed the thought.
Meiji sat cross-legged on his bed, experimenting with shapes while Lady Nagant thought he was sleeping. He'd discovered that nighttime practice was easier—the darkness of his room made his shadows stronger, more distinct against the limited light.
He tried forming a spiral, mimicking Nejire's quirk. The shadows twisted obediently, creating a three-dimensional helix that rotated slowly above his palm. It wasn't golden like hers—shadows couldn't be bright—but the movement was similar, the pattern precise.
Next, he tried creating her. This was harder—people were complicated, with many small details. He concentrated, remembering her floating blue hair, her wide smile, her animated expressions. The shadows pooled, then rose, forming a miniature Nejire with arms outstretched, hair flowing around her face.
Not perfect, but recognizable. Better than his previous attempts at creating people. Usually, the faces came out wrong—too sharp, too many angles, sometimes with the teeth and eyes that appeared when he was scared.
But this shadow-Nejire looked right. Friendly. The way she had looked at him today, not afraid even when his shadows had formed defensive spikes and barriers.
"Not scary," he whispered to himself, an echo of what she had told him.
The shadow-Nejire seemed to dance in response, twirling above his palm in a motion that made him smile—a small, tentative expression that felt unfamiliar on his face. He couldn't remember the last time he had smiled. Before the facility, probably. Before the tests and needles and pain.
A soft knock at his door startled him, shadows instantly contracting into a tight ball before he recognized Lady Nagant's pattern—two gentle taps, a pause, then one more.
"Come in," he called softly.
She opened the door just enough to look in, her expression softening when she saw him sitting up with his shadows dancing around him.
"I thought I heard you practicing," she said, entering the room and sitting on the edge of his bed. "Impressive control."
The shadows preened slightly at the praise, forming more defined patterns. Meiji allowed them to continue their dance, including the small Nejire figure that twirled among shifting shadow-flowers.
"You like her," Lady Nagant observed, watching the Nejire figure with interest.
Meiji nodded. "She's... bright."
It was the best word he could find to describe not just Nejire's quirk but her entire presence—a brilliance that seemed to push back darkness without trying to eliminate it.
"She asked to see you again," Lady Nagant said. "Principal Nezu is arranging supervised play sessions starting tomorrow."
The shadows leapt briefly in excitement before Meiji could settle them, causing Lady Nagant's lips to curve in what might have been a smile.
"Your shadows are becoming more expressive," she noted. "They show your feelings very clearly now."
Meiji nodded, considering this. "Before... in the facility... I had to hide feelings. The shadows too."
It was the most direct reference he had made to his time in captivity, and he felt Lady Nagant's attention sharpen though her expression remained calm.
"Hiding feelings is sometimes necessary for survival," she acknowledged. "But not anymore. Not here."
The simple assurance settled something in Meiji that had been uneasy since the confrontation with the HSPC agents. Lady Nagant had chosen him over them. Had said "no" when they tried to take him away.
"Why did you help me?" he asked suddenly, the question emerging before he could consider it. "In the facility. And today."
Lady Nagant was quiet for a long moment, her gaze distant as if looking at something beyond the room.
"In the facility," she said finally, "I helped you because it was the right thing to do. No child should be treated as you were."
The shadows stilled, waiting for the rest.
"Today," she continued, her voice softer, "I helped you because you're Meiji. Not a subject. Not an assignment. Just... Meiji."
The shadows responded before he consciously directed them, forming a small bridge between his hand and hers—a connection of darkness that somehow conveyed more than words could express.
Lady Nagant looked at the shadow bridge with an expression Meiji couldn't quite interpret—surprise, perhaps, or something deeper.
"It's late," she said after a moment. "You should sleep. Tomorrow will be busy."
As she rose to leave, Meiji's shadows formed one more shape—a small figure of Lady Nagant herself, standing protective beside the Nejire figure. Both watching over a third figure that was clearly meant to be himself.
A family, of sorts. Created from darkness but representing something far brighter.
Lady Nagant paused at the door, looking back at the shadow tableau. For the briefest moment, something that might have been a genuine smile crossed her face.
"Goodnight, Meiji," she said softly.
"Goodnight," he replied, allowing the shadows to gradually fade as she closed the door.
In the darkness of his room, Meiji lay back on his bed, watching as his shadows formed gentle patterns across the ceiling. For the first time since his rescue, they didn't form eyes or teeth or defensive shapes as he drifted toward sleep. Instead, they swirled in peaceful configurations—flowers, spirals, and figures holding hands.
Not weapons. Not monsters. Just shadows, dancing with possibilities he was only beginning to discover.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - AN: HEY!!! surprise!
Birthday gift to that someone who was born today. Somewhere in the world idk nor do I really care... since it doesn't change anything really but if its for you readers hope you like it 👍. Anyway thought I'd leave my after thoughts of the previous chapter (the following things to go?) a bit healing in a sense,
personally I'm more inclined to give it depth to the whole story, and later I'll add a chapter whereas new exasperated readers can just read a summarized chapter with a bit of flashback to all this.