The midday sun timidly filtered through the large windows of the pediatric medical center, where the white walls seemed to absorb every trace of warmth. Reiji and Himiko sat side by side on a cold bench, waiting expectantly for what might happen in the next few minutes.
Their parents sat beside them, equally or even more anxious about the medical prognosis for their two little ones.
In front of them, Dr. Nakamura, a middle-aged man with thick glasses and an impassive expression, carefully reviewed Reiji and Himiko's medical records while taking notes on his tablet.
The emergence of Quirks meant that children up to the age of four were thoroughly examined. This was to ensure the protection of the children as their abilities awakened, and of all those around them when this happened.
"Okay, starting with little Reiji. His Quirk, in simple terms, repairs damage at a much faster rate than normal. Cells divide quickly, effectively removing dead tissue and regenerating new tissue without leaving scars. It's as if his body is in a constant state of healing," he said bluntly, looking at the reports in his hands.
The little boy couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu, as scientists had often announced their new discoveries aloud right next to him, as if he didn't exist or couldn't hear what they were saying.
"And that's a good thing, right?"
"In principle, yes. It's useful for cuts, minor fractures, infections... But it's not invulnerability. It can't regenerate lost organs or survive lethal wounds. And although it sounds strange, a body that heals so quickly also expends a lot of energy. He'll need good nutrition, rest, and regular checkups to make sure his metabolism doesn't suffer."
Reiji understood the doctor's specifications better than anyone else; strangely, they were the same as in his previous life. If that was the case, then he was well aware of the limitations of this new body.
Although it was strange, his mother had a Quirk that allowed her to transform her hands into different things she imagined. His father had a Quirk that caused his blood to solidify once it left his body. Himiko was a combination of certain characteristics of both, which made sense. Meanwhile, he had accelerated recovery, which he could relate to his father's Quirk, but it wasn't really the source as such.
It could happen, of course, but the fact that it was the same power she had in her previous life made him feel that there was something strange about it all.
"Now, as for little Himiko here. Her Quirk still shows no signs of activating, but that doesn't mean we should be less alert. According to our analysis, her teeth have undergone a certain modification, making her canines quite sharp. I don't know what kind of consequences this may have on her final Quirk, but it's something to keep in mind," he concluded without further details, looking up at the whole family.
Himiko's mother, her brow slightly furrowed, leaned forward.
"Modification to her teeth...? How exactly?"
The doctor understood her concern, turning the tablet to show an enlarged image of Himiko's oral scan. The two adults stared intently, while Reiji looked away toward Himiko, who was now playing with a band-aid stuck to her wrist. She seemed oblivious to everything, her mind completely focused on figuring out why the band-aid made a noise when she peeled it off.
"In technical terms, we observed slight hypertrophy in the upper canines, with mineralization distinct from the rest of the teeth. They are more resistant, have a density similar to the enamel of carnivorous animals, and their roots appear to have a direct connection to the sympathetic nervous system."
Reiji's father raised an eyebrow.
"Could this be harmful to her?"
"Under normal conditions, no," Nakamura replied calmly. "With the genetic variability that Quirks entail, it is not unusual to see physical adaptations prior to active manifestation. The body prepares itself, so to speak. In this case, her physiology is evolving into something that will likely require those fangs."
Both parents nodded, somewhat relieved that their daughter was not having any major problems with the physiological change she was undergoing. At that moment, the father remembered something else.
"Doctor..." the father said, glancing sideways at Reiji. "Are you completely sure that my son's Quirk isn't overworking him? He's been tired more often lately"
"It's likely," replied the doctor, unsurprised. "Constant cell regeneration involves high caloric expenditure. Even if he's not healing visible wounds, his body is still working at a microscopic level. He needs at least 30% more calories than an average child his age, with a high protein and iron content. He also needs zinc and vitamins A, B2, and C supplements to prevent wear and tear."
He wrote everything down precisely on a sheet of paper he tore from a folder and handed to the parents.
"This is a basic meal plan. If he gets too tired too often, you need to reinforce it with rest. His body is well adapted, but it's not inexhaustible."
Reiji nodded silently. It was almost comforting to see that, at least in this life, he was treated like a child with a special condition, not like a living tool. Here, at least for now, everything seemed more human.
He looked back at Himiko, who was staring at him with her tongue out and her eyes shining with mischief for having stolen his band-aid.
'The important thing is that they care about her...'
***
The blue sky stretched cleanly over the playground, where the kindergarten children ran back and forth amid laughter and shouts. It was recess time, and like every Friday, the caregivers allowed the children to play "Heroes vs. Villains," a game that mixed imagination with the first manifestations of their Quirks. This was so that they could control their
"I want to be All Might!" shouted one of the children, standing on a wooden bench.
"You were the hero last week!" complained another, puffing out his cheeks. "Now it's my turn!"
Reiji watched from the sidelines, holding Himiko's hand, who was clutching her teddy bear to her chest. Although she seemed nervous, her eyes sparkled with excitement at the prospect of participating.
"What do you want to be, Himiko-chan?" asked a girl with a smile beside her.
"A heroine! Like Miss Nana Shimura!" she replied, raising her hand enthusiastically.
But the complaints were not long in coming.
"Not again! You always want to be the heroine!"
"It's getting tiresome! Besides, you should be the villain with those weird fangs!" added a boy, pointing cheekily at her canines. Reiji, two years younger than most, looked annoyed. However, his small presence did not affect the boy too much.
Himiko's smile faded. She lowered her gaze, squeezing the stuffed animal tighter.
"Okay..." she muttered, dragging out her words. "I'll be the villain this time..."
Reiji frowned, but didn't intervene. He understood that he couldn't always help Himiko, and besides, it wasn't such a big deal.
The game began. They ran, shouted, threw themselves to the ground, simulating attacks and rescues. Himiko played her role reluctantly at first, but little by little her usual energy returned, hiding behind a tree and jumping out to capture the "civilians."
Reiji stood on the sidelines, watching everything closely. His mind wandered to all the things he would have to do in the future. Protecting Himiko was the first step, but he also had to do more than that in his life.
Then it happened.
One of the children, dodging an "attack," tripped over an exposed root and fell forward. The blow was sharp. A trickle of blood ran down his eyebrow.
"Kyo-kun!" a girl cried out.
Everyone stopped. Himiko, closer than anyone else, was the first to approach... Genuine concern on her face as she looked at the wound on the boy's forehead.
The teachers quickly jumped out of their seats, ready to attend to the little boy who was threatening to cry at any moment.
"Are you... okay...?" asked the little blonde girl innocently, her eyes fixed on the blood. Her pupils dilated as she stared directly at the small red trickle that was beginning to run down his eyebrow.
The boy in front of her burst into tears just as the teachers knelt down beside him to check him over. One of them applied a compress to the wound, pressing gently, while they tried to calm him down.
"Come on, Himiko-chan," Reiji said, quickly approaching her and taking her by the hand to gently lead her away. But something wasn't right.
She wasn't moving.
The little girl was staring at the blood, as if everything else around her had disappeared. Her body was tense, her fingers slightly clenched, and her nose continued to breathe in air with an almost imperceptible cadence.
"Himiko..." Reiji murmured, lowering his voice.
She blinked, as if waking from a trance, and turned her face slightly toward him. Her eyes were glassy, with a faint moisture appearing in the corners. Her expression said it all, even without words: she knew that something had been wrong with her... even if she hadn't done anything.
Reiji quickly looked around. No one seemed to have noticed that little slip, that moment when Himiko wasn't quite herself. He sighed with relief and turned his attention back to his sister.
"Come on, let's go. It's over... you didn't do anything wrong," he whispered calmly, taking her hand as he led her away from the scene.
She didn't respond, but she didn't need to. Reiji had seen enough. Even if his sister couldn't express it yet, he understood.
Her Quirk... or at least, that innate hunger for blood, had just awakened.