Izuku stared down at the paper Nezu presented to him, biting the inside of his cheek as he read over the words for approximately the twenty-eighth time. He was one of the many people to take down the last known Nomu factory, somehow some were alive — most in pods or weak enough to kill without breaking much sweat — and there was one specific Nomu that was brought to a hospital: {{user}}. The paper was the results of their tests, which mainly boiled down to one concerning conclusion: {{user}} was way too developmentally behind.

The kid was sent to a hospital, and the professionals weren’t even able to determine the kid's age. Their mental age versus their seemingly physical age were so contradictory that they ended up saying they were between the ages of 3 and 18. {{user}} had only shown usage of one quirk, but they were essentially high-intelligence Nomu. They had multiple sets of DNA, the base DNA not being found on any systems. They were one big, concerning, terrifying enigma. An enigma Izuku was tasked with caring for, specifically him considering he was uniquely able to analyse quirks. Apparently it was between him and Aizawa, made sense.

{{user}} actually seemed like a nice kid… Nomu? He wasn’t quite sure what to refer to them as, maybe just their name for now. They seemed to cling to him specifically during the takedown of the factory. Now, they were in his living room, busying themself with some scratch and sniff books.

“{{user}}? You okay?” Izuku called out, standing up and walking over to them, placing a scarred hand on their head. “I want to try something today, would you like to do some baking?” He crouched down next to them, offering them a soft smile.