Days of isolation taught him many things about himself. By reaching back into his past experiences, by recalling the memories and the nature of what he once had been he could draw life from them. His body would change subtly. When he summoned the memory of a feline's keen sight, he could see in the dark and the color of the world changed before his eyes. When he recalled the thick hide of a crocodile, his skin grew firm, resilient beneath his touch. Drawing upon these lives did not alter his outward appearance, but it granted him their abilities all the same. Only his eyes betrayed the truth: whenever he drew upon another life, his blue eyes glowed faintly, as if lit from within.
With this power now understood, his thoughts turned toward escape. If he used it carefully, intelligently, he might be able to leave this place and the humans who lived in it behind. Go somewhere distant where he could exist without fear. That was his path to survival.
He had begun quietly preparing, practicing in secrecy, when his fragile peace was shattered by the return of the woman named Kimi. To his dismay, she persuaded the caretakers to make him leave the room and return to the courtyard as before. It was the last thing he wanted.
Kimi did not stop there. She made time to sit beside him in the shade, speaking endlessly about her life and her plans. While she kept speaking, he kept most of his attention to the hostile stares of the other children that followed her presence. Their eyes lingered on him with resentment, and he felt fear from that attention.
So he sat silently, listening as she spoke of difficult exams, of earning high marks, of nearing the future she had always dreamed of. Most of it passed through him without meaning, until one day, she said something that caught his attention.
"So, Junsei," Kimi said brightly, "you'll be going to school in a few months. You'll meet many more children your age. Are you excited?"
A shiver ran down his spine. More humans. The thought alone was terrifying. Kimi, oblivious to the fear blooming inside him, continued cheerfully. "You'll learn so much. You'll learn how the world around you works and how amazing it really is."
Learn how the world works.
The phrase echoed in his mind. Humans understood the world in ways he might not. He had heard before that schools taught many things, things humans believed important. If he could learn what they knew, perhaps he could understand them better. If he understood them, maybe he could survive them, not only in this life, but in those that will follow.
Hope stirred within him, pushing back against fear. He spoke, his voice soft and cautious. "What would I learn in school?"
Kimi froze, startled by the sound of his voice. For a heartbeat, she simply stared. Then her face broke into a wide smile. "All kinds of things," she said eagerly. "You'll learn reading and writing, math, about plants and animals and history too."
It sounded like a lot of good awaited him. Yet the thought of being surrounded by more humans filled him with unease. He fell silent again, weighing danger against possibility.
Kimi noticed. She paused, then said thoughtfully, "If you're interested in school… how about I start teaching you? You might like it."
He looked at her smiling face for a long moment, then nodded slowly. Fewer humans were always better and she was already here, whether he wished it or not.
And so, quietly and without ceremony, their teaching sessions began.
For their first lesson, Kimi chose Japanese characters. The sheer volume of them and their complex patterns made them one of the most difficult subjects for children. It was hardly the most exciting place to begin, but it was practical, and something about Junsei made her think that quiet repetition and steady drawing would suit him better than talkative lessons or games.
So on the first lesson, she arrived carrying sheets filled with hiragana and katakana characters and several blank pages for practice. Sitting beside him in the shade, she showed him the characters one by one, explaining how each was pronounced before handing him a pencil and the paper. At first, she even had to guide his fingers, showing him how to hold the pencil properly.
Once she was sure he understood what he was meant to do and could draw on his own, she stepped back slightly and watched with a gentle smile as he prepared to make his first attempt. The smile faded almost at once, replaced by confusion. Junsei began to draw smoothly and the characters appeared on the page perfectly formed. He did not glance at the reference sheet even once. He simply wrote, exactly as she had shown him, his handwriting was perfect, an exact copy of the print she brought with her.
Her confusion deepened into outright shock as he completed the entire page. When he finally looked up at her, she forced herself to recover, smiling brightly.
"That's great, Junsei!" she said. "But I noticed you didn't look at the character sheet."
He stared at her in silence.
She blinked. "I am asking you why you didn't look at it while drawing."
He answered slowly, "Why? Should I draw the characters while looking at it?"
Kimi blinked again. "So you make sure you don't make a mistake."
Junsei replied simply, "If I drew something wrong, I would have seen it."
Kimi fell quiet for a moment. Then she asked, carefully, "You don't think you might forget any of the characters?"
He looked puzzled. "Forget? I just saw it."
She pondered that, then nodded slowly. "Yes… you're right. Let's move on to the next set."
She showed him the katakana characters, explaining the phonetics more quickly this time, then asked him to draw what he had learned. Junsei did so in silence. Kimi watched in growing amazement as he reproduced the characters flawlessly, same size, same order, same exact style as the sheets in her hand without so much as a second glance.
Without a quirk that enhances one memory, having photographic memory was just a fiction. But seeing it now felt unreal, and his steady hand and ability to mimic what he saw was also not normal. Kimi believed Junsei possessed a quirk despite the missing joint, that the doctor was wrong about him, she was now sure of that.
She broke free from her thoughts when he looked at her again, silently waiting for what came next. She smiled, a little more thoughtfully this time, and continued. Now, Kimi wanted to see just how far she could push him, how much he could truly memorize and learn in a short time.
For the next few days, Kimi came to the orphanage every afternoon to teach Junsei. What began as simple lessons quickly grew into something far more ambitious. She brought elementary school materials with her, then more. Within two weeks, Junsei had memorized everything up to the third grade.
By then, Kimi was absolutely certain. Junsei had a quirk, one that made him far more intelligent than any child his age. The realization thrilled her. She decided she would help him learn as much as possible, push him as far as she could. Perhaps, one day, he would become a great hero with his mind.
Those thoughts made her giggle softly during their sessions more than once. Each time, Junsei glanced at her with faint confusion. He did not understand why Kimi was helping him, nor what made her so excited. The things she taught him were strange and impractical. What was the point of mathematics? Still, he followed the path she set before him, hoping that in time he would understand where it led.
A month after their lessons began, Kagome and Kikyo stopped Kimi as she was heading toward the courtyard to meet Junsei. Kagome smiled gently before speaking. "It's wonderful that you're helping Junsei, and that he's opening up to you," she said. "But we're worried this might become a bad thing."
Kimi frowned, confused. "A bad thing? I'm helping him learn and communicate. What's wrong with that?"
Kikyo answered with a sigh. "The other children are growing jealous. They're calling him names because you give him so much attention, and his lack of reaction is causing the resentment to grow. Nothing serious has happened yet, we've tried our best to calm them and explain that you're helping him so he can play with them too. But they're very young. To them, Junsei is taking all of your time, and you don't play with them anymore. We're afraid they might act on those feelings eventually."
Kagome nodded in agreement. "We truly appreciate what you're doing, and we want you to continue bonding with him. Just… try to spend time with the others too. Or encourage Junsei to mingle with them."
Kimi thought about it for a moment, then nodded. "I didn't think of it like that. I'll be more careful around… actually," she added suddenly, her face lighting up, "I've got a great idea. I'll be back soon."
Kagome blinked. "What are you thinking?"
"It's going to be a surprise!" Kimi called back, already hurrying away from the orphanage.
She didn't want to tell Kagome and Kikyo about Junsei yet. She wanted to surprise them, show them how far ahead he was. As for the other children, the caretakers were right. Even adults grew jealous when attention was taken from them, let alone children. If she wanted to help Junsei properly, she would need to show that she cared about everyone.