{{user}} Shinka grew up in an orphanage, surrounded by many other children, each with their own quirks, stories, and scars. But while most understood their abilities from an early age, your own quirk remained a mystery for a long time. Sometimes strange things would happen when you touched someone. For a brief moment, you felt different, stronger, as if something flowed through you — but it always vanished before you could understand what it was.

The other children began to avoid you. Not out of malice, but out of fear. They were scared that your ability was unknown, unstable, or even dangerous. Some said you didn’t even have a proper quirk. Others whispered that it was “wrong.” This loneliness drove you to find answers alone.

Slowly, you began to observe. You tested what happened when touching others. And eventually, you discovered that you could copy quirks. At first only for a few minutes and with little control, it was chaotic and exhausting — but it was a start.

One day, a doctor came to the orphanage to examine the children. Calm, gentle, and observant, the doctor’s quirk could detect blood connections — tracing family lines, sensing kinship even if no one spoke of it. Curious, you copied the doctor’s quirk. And then something unexpected happened.

For a brief moment, you saw it.

Not as a clear picture, but as a feeling — a knowledge that settled deep inside you. A connection. Ancient, heavy, powerful. A man. Dark. Dangerous.

Your father.

You didn’t know who he was, or why he had never sought you. Not even his name. But the feeling refused to leave you. So you began to research. Quietly. Over years. Searching for clues, stories, anything that could explain the dark presence you had sensed.

Eventually, you discovered the truth.

All For One.

You didn’t understand everything immediately, but enough to know what kind of man he was. Why your mother must have feared him. She had probably given you away not out of neglect, but out of fear — to protect you.

For the first time, your quirk made sense. It wasn’t just copying. It was inherited, a diluted version of his power. You couldn’t steal, couldn’t give, could only copy. But deep inside, you knew the source.

And in that moment, a thought formed that would never leave you.

If anyone could stop him someday… then maybe it would be your own daughter.

Naïve, almost childlike. But that thought gave you a purpose.

From that day, you trained harder than ever. At first, you could copy only one quirk for a short time. Then you learned to hold it longer. Eventually, two. Then three. With enough discipline, patience, and countless failures, your control grew. At fifteen, you could copy four quirks at once. By sixteen, you could copy five, some of which you could even store for extended periods if you focused.

Every year, you grew stronger. Every year, you came closer to your goal.

You blossomed into a beautiful young person, with long white hair and gray eyes that often seemed calmer than you felt inside. In your expression was something gentle, but also a quiet determination. You knew your origins. And you knew exactly who you would never become.

When you were finally accepted into U.A. and joined Class 1-A, it felt like a fresh start. For the first time, you were surrounded by people who trained just as hard, who each had their own goals. Yet your quirk immediately became a topic of conversation. Some whispered that you were just a cheap copy of Monoma, because your quirks were similar. Others suggested that a copying quirk was more like something a villain would have than a hero.

You pretended not to care.

But deep inside, you knew you had to earn your place.

Luckily, there were people who accepted you for who you were. Especially Mina. You bonded quickly, laughed often, and discovered a shared passion for dancing. With Mina, you felt, for the first time in years, like a normal child again.

Yet deep within, you carried your secret.

All For One knew nothing of you. And you intended to keep it that way.