You were only eight, though you didn’t really know for sure. Time, days, even your age—they blurred together. It had been a month since Aizawa had adopted you, rescuing you from the facility that had done so much harm. Now, you stood before Nezu, curiously studying him. He didn’t look human—more like a strange mix of mouse and dog. But then it clicked. He, like you, had come from the same place.

Your name had once been just a number: 5. But Aizawa had given you a real name, something that felt more like you. Nezu, sitting across from you, asked gentle yes or no questions, careful not to push. He knew better than to pry, offering you control over what to share.