After finishing the meal she'd carefully made, Homura sat in silence for a while, letting the last few bites settle in her stomach. It wasn't anything extravagant, just a simple, well-cooked food. But it was the first proper meal she'd had in years, made solely by herself.
Considering that, it wasn't bad. Still, nothing to think about for longer than a second.
Without wasting time, she gathered up the dishes, rinsing and cleaning them, and before long, the kitchen was spotless again in minutes, not a single utensil out of place. Even here, in a world unfamiliar, some habits refused to leave her.
Once satisfied, she dried her hands and made her way to the living room. The apartment was still as quiet as when she arrived. Homura crossed the room and lowered herself onto the couch with a soft exhale, sinking into the cushions.
Letting the quiet hang for a moment, she reached for the remote resting on the coffee table and flicked on the TV. The low hum of background noise filled the space.
She pulled the phone from her pocket, remembering the little rodent's parting gift. No lock screen, no password. which is unexpected considering what she'd seen from the rats... prior activities. But it's better, considering less time spent.
She spent a while flicking through the apps, examining them one by one. Messaging. Maps. News. Video streaming. The interface was cleaner than what she remembered, the icons sleeker, but the core functionality was… surprisingly the same.
Strange.
In a world where quirks could level buildings, pull storms from the sky, and let people breathe fire, she'd expected technology to have sprinted far ahead, reshaped by power and necessity. But it hadn't. Phones still worked like phones. Apps still served the same mundane purposes. The internet was still the internet. The differences were mostly surface-level. Aesthetic, not fundamental.
It wasn't worse. It wasn't better. Just… oddly stagnant.
"With this much time passing... one would think technology would advance way further than this. Over a hundred years... yet it barely feels like it."
Curious, she dove deeper into the net, skimming over news articles and archived media. There were definitely things that could be considered "futuristic" — holograms, highly advanced autonomous machines, equipment capable of impressive feats, and the most striking one: a fully manmade island called I-Island, a technological marvel built over the ocean.
But beyond that handful of breakthroughs, it still felt like the world had only crawled forward a couple decades, not centuries.
The reasons for this were few, and none of them entirely satisfying. The idea that humanity would simply halt its progress in fields once thought vital was absurd. And yet… maybe quirks had that much of an impact. Maybe once people could reshape their bodies and wield impossible power, technology as a priority had slipped. The focus shifted. Innovation no longer mattered the same way it once did.
Still, it was strange for so little to happen in this much time.
Homura made a mental note to dig deeper later. When she had the freedom to move and was sure nothing could or would go wrong. There were too many unknowns in this world still, and at the top of that list sat the enigma known as Nedzu.
The rodent was unreadable. Unsettling in a way that even centuries of time loops hadn't quite prepared her for. Not malicious - just... something impossible to predict. A mind that worked sideways and upside down at the same time. She didn't trust him, not for a second. But she had to admit, he was interesting.
"Oh, right… he did say he was planning on talking with me this morning, but never gave a time. I-"
Ring
Homura froze mid-thought, her head turning toward the door as the sharp chime of the doorbell cut through the apartment's quiet.
Her eyes narrowed. "Huh… if I had to assume, that would be him. What perfect timing."
She set the phone down beside her and stood, brushing a hand through her hair and giving a light flick out of habit, before making her way toward the door. Just in case, she checked her soul gem... and like before, completely clear.
Standing at the door, she took a small, quick, deep breath before opening the door.
Standing in the doorway was the creature in question — a mouse, a bear, a dog? Even now, she couldn't tell. Dressed in a crisp, perfectly tailored tuxedo, Nezu beamed up at her with that same unsettlingly cheerful grin, his bright eyes glinting with a sharpness most would miss if they didn't know to look for it.
"Hello there!" he greeted, raising a small paw like this were the most natural thing in the world. "A pleasure to properly meet you again, Akemi-san."
Homura stared at the paw. Unmoving. The memory of the phone prank flickered across her mind like a pop-up window. Her eye twitched, just slightly.
She considered, in a split second, whether shaking it would result in another annoyance like that.
After a moment's pause, she let her arms hang loosely at her sides and gave a flat, "Yes. It sure is," because even if the prank was harmless. homura could still be annoyed about it. deciding against the plesantry greeting.
Her gaze stayed sharp, eyes narrowing a fraction. Nezu didn't miss it - if anything, his grin only widened, clearly pleased with her suspicion.
"Good, good!" he chirped, voice chipper as ever. "Though it's a little rude to leave a person hanging, I suppose I can overlook it… since you found my little present," he added with a sly, glinting smile. "I won't hold it against you. Now then, may I come in?"
Homura stepped aside wordlessly, eyes never leaving him as he padded in like he owned the place.
After a beat, she followed. Nezu, wasting no time, hopped onto a chair at the dining table, the edge of the tabletop just barely clearing his shoulders. He set a neat stack of documents on the surface, adjusting them with a precision that spoke of habit.
Homura stayed standing for a moment, observing him carefully, before crossing the room and taking the seat opposite him.
"Let's start with the formalities," Nezu said brightly, sliding a folder of documents toward her. "Quirk registry, living arrangements, fabricated background details, name, age, country of origin, et cetera, et cetera."
Homura reached out and took the folder, but her eyes stayed locked on him. "I se—" she cut herself off, her gaze sharpening as the word fabricated registered.
She didn't miss it.
Calmly opening the folder, she began flipping through the contents. Standard information about the school, class schedules, policies, some course details, and then, toward the end, a mostly completed form where her personal details were meant to go. Most of it had already been filled in.
Nezu noticed her pause and smiled like a cat who knew exactly where the mouse was hiding.
"Naturally," he began, clasping his paws together, "given your… unique circumstances, and the apparent amnesia you seem to be suffering from, it's only expected that you wouldn't have much of a background for us to verify. Would I be correct in assuming that?"
Homura's eyes widened just a fraction before she carefully masked it. He's sharper than I thought… much sharper. I can't tell if he actually believes that or if he's just politely playing along.
"Yes," Homura answered slowly, her voice neutral.
Nezu clapped his paws together with cheer. "Wonderful. Then, if you wouldn't mind, fill in what you can on the last page. Once that's done, I'll be out of your hair."
Homura gave a nod.
---
After carefully reading through every page and neatly filling in the remaining details, she slid the folder back across the table. A polite, practised smile touched her lips. "Is that everything, Nezu?"
"Ah, yes, that should do it," he replied brightly, taking the folder and setting it aside. "Thank you, Homura, for being so diligent. Now then—" he paused, a glint of something unreadable in his eyes as he hopped down from the chair.
Instead of making his way to the door, Nezu strolled toward the couch. Homura's brow twitched as she watched him reach down and — is that a chessboard? — Sure enough, from beneath the couch, he pulled out a neatly kept chess set.
Returning to the table with a serene smile, he set it down and began arranging the pieces. "I was wondering if you might entertain a match. Just for a little fun."
Windows_re_boot.mp3
Homura's face froze. Her mind short-circuited for a solid second as she processed what she was seeing.
There was a chessboard. Under the couch. Why? Why under the couch? Had he planned this? Did he expect it would come up today? Was this another test? A mental evaluation disguised as a game? no no no, wait wait wait, going back. Why does he even want to play chess? For fun? What kind of interrogation tactic was this? This is so bizarre.
Her expression didn't betray much, but she blinked once. Then again. And again.
Slowly, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, straightening in her seat. "Oh… I wasn't expecting that," she admitted carefully, tone even. "But I suppose it would be fine if I played a match."
Nezu's grin widened, clearly pleased. "Splendid. I find that a game of chess reveals more about a person than a dozen conversations. No pressure, of course," he chuckled, finishing the setup with practised ease.
Homura watched his hands - paws - work with precise, confident movements. He was far too good at this. Either he played often, or he was one of those types who played seriously. But considering his... couch, chess set. In supposedly my apartment... it wouldn't be a surprise.
Either way, it was information worth noting.
She let out a soft sigh and leaned forward, studying the board. White and black, clean and polished, the pieces are perfectly proportioned. This set wasn't cheap.
"I'll let you choose," Nezu offered, gesturing grandly. "White or black?"
Homura considered for a moment before lightly tapping one of the black pawns. "I'll take black."
Nezu's eyes gleamed in amusement. "A defensive stance, then. Very well."
He made the opening move
A/N yes, i am cock blocking the chess match, guess you'll have to wait till next chapter. tee-hee :3
hope you enjoooooyed.
also, pwease comment, i am sad. and your comments make happy happi hapi