The moment Aoyama stepped into the office, the atmosphere changed.
The room felt strangely warm.
Bookshelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling, packed with everything from hero analysis journals to old class logs. A kettle quietly steamed in the corner while soft classical music played faintly in the background.
"Please, sit," Nezu said pleasantly.
Aoyama pulled out the chair across from the desk and sat down without hesitation.
Midnight leaned casually against a nearby.
Nezu carefully poured tea into a small porcelain cup before sliding it toward Aoyama.
"I always make it a point to ensure the person I'm speaking with feels comfortable first," Nezu explained.
His smile remained polite.
"I find tea is usually a good choice for hospitality."
Aoyama glanced down at the cup before smiling faintly.
"I'm more of a pastry person, honestly."
He lifted the tea calmly.
"If there'd been cake waiting here, you probably could've gotten anything out of me."
He took a sip.
"Like how I'm actually an alien sent from light-years away."
Midnight snorted quietly.
Nezu laughed.
"That would certainly be quite the revelation."
His intelligent eyes gleamed with amusement.
"Although, considering we already know you're lactose intolerant and that your mother is a lawyer, I likely would've avoided offering cake regardless."
He sighed dramatically.
"The last thing I need is a hefty lawsuit landing on my desk Monday morning."
Aoyama leaned back in his chair.
"Well, you can't blame me for trying to make a little extra yen."
He tilted his head slightly.
"So why exactly am I here? I'm pretty sure I didn't do anything wrong."
Nezu folded his paws together atop the desk.
"No, you haven't."
His tone remained calm.
"But your Quirk has raised some concerns."
The room quieted slightly.
"Officially, your Quirk is registered as a cloning ability."
A holographic screen appeared beside his desk, displaying Aoyama's school records.
"And according to your middle school history, both your teachers and classmates believed that was the extent of your abilities."
The screen shifted to footage from the entrance exam.
It showed Aoyama fighting alongside different groups while displaying abilities beyond simple cloning against the villain bots.
Nezu's eyes lifted back toward Aoyama.
"That perception only changed after your decision to enroll at U.A."
More clips appeared.
Barrier creation.
Healing abilities.
Tactical Clones zipping around with rope.
And finally—
footage from today showing the black-and-white symbiote coating his arm.
"So I hope you'll forgive us for being cautious and wanting to learn more."
Aoyama stared at the screen for a moment before smirking lightly.
"Fair enough."
He spoke casually, as if he'd expected this conversation from the start.
"You're right to assume my Quirk used to be a simple cloning ability. Silver Double—a Quirk similar to my father's."
He lifted the cup of tea.
Shinnn~
A second Aoyama split away from him, holding an identical cup.
"Like this."
Aoyama #2 placed the duplicated cup beside the original.
"They look perfectly identical. Same shape, same liquid, even the same warmth."
Nezu watched the demonstration closely.
"That's an amazing ability to possess."
He studied the copied cup carefully.
"With something like this, I'd never run out of tea."
Then his eyes narrowed slightly.
"However, I heard that anything you clone has reduced durability. Is that correct?"
Aoyama nodded.
"Exactly."
"When I duplicate myself or anything I'm holding, the copies aren't perfect. Their strength and durability are divided between the originals and the clones."
He tapped the copied cup lightly.
"So the more clones I create, the more fragile they become."
"That's quite a harsh drawback," Midnight commented as she leaned forward.
"Do you mind if I take a closer look?"
She pointed toward the duplicated cup.
"Go ahead."
"Thank you~"
She hummed softly while picking it up.
"It feels solid… and it's still steaming."
Midnight inspected it carefully, even noticing the distinct aroma of Nezu's black tea.
"You know, if you focused on cloning small objects, you could become an incredible counterfeiter."
She paused.
Then immediately recoiled at her own words.
"…Actually, maybe I shouldn't be telling my students that."
Midnight pointed dramatically at Aoyama.
"Please forget I said that, okay, Aoyama-kun?"
Then she grinned teasingly.
"If you're a good boy, maybe I'll even share some tips on impressing all those girls you met earlier."
"Please have some decency, Midnight," Nezu spoke flatly.
"I'm sorry, I got carried away."
She waved it off before turning back toward Aoyama.
"Please continue your explanation, Aoyama-kun."
"Well, now that we've covered the cloning aspect of my Quirk…"
Aoyama folded one leg over the other.
"I should explain why I can do more than that."
"And that's because I discovered an advanced application of my Quirk."
He continued smoothly.
"By duplicating specific biological material inside my body—mostly my pinky bone—"
Midnight blinked once.
"—it creates a strange mutation effect where my body temporarily 'forgets' what Quirk it's supposed to have."
Nezu looked deeply unconvinced.
Still, he listened.
Aoyama stood up and lifted his pant leg before untying one shoe.
"One thing I figured out is that depending on how I duplicate the joint, I can repeatedly recreate a specific ability."
He tapped his foot lightly against the chair as silver light began swirling around his pinky toe.
At the same time, he raised one hand and formed a blue mana dome roughly the size of a softball.
"But while I'm like this, I have to be extremely careful not to complete the formation of a new pinky joint."
The glowing sphere flickered slightly.
"If I fully solidify it, my body could permanently lock onto the new Quirk instead of my original one."
His tone remained casual despite the implications.
"Worst case scenario, I lose both abilities entirely as my body rejects the instability and gradually weakens them until I end up Quirkless."
Midnight slowly raised an eyebrow.
"…That's way more extreme than your original drawback."
She crossed her arms.
"If you mess up the timing and complete the joint formation, you could permanently destroy your own Quirk."
Aoyama smiled pleasantly.
"Well, there's a way to lessen that risk."
Nezu's gaze shifted back toward the footage on the screen showing different clones using different abilities.
"You place the risk on your clones instead of yourself."
"Exactly," Aoyama replied immediately.
"If a clone fails to prevent the joint from fully manifesting, it doesn't matter."
He shrugged lightly.
"I can simply deactivate it and start over with a new clone."
Midnight's expression turned serious again.
"That wouldn't just make you a one-man army…"
She slowly crossed her arms beneath her chest.
"It would basically make you a Quirk factory capable of producing endless variations of abilities through disposable clones."
The playful tone in her voice had disappeared.
"Do you realize what that means?"
Aoyama remained relaxed in his seat.
Midnight continued anyway.
"The Hero Commission would love someone like you."
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"And the wrong people would want to control you."
The room fell silent after that.
Even Nezu stopped smiling for a moment.
Because regardless of whether Aoyama's explanation was entirely truthful—
the implications alone were terrifying.
A cloning Quirk capable of producing experimental secondary abilities through disposable bodies?
Even an unstable version of that would be considered dangerous.
Nezu gently tapped his paws together while thinking it through.
Then he looked back toward Aoyama.
"In that case…"
His intelligent eyes gleamed faintly.
"Would you mind listing the abilities you've successfully produced so far?"
Aoyama leaned back in his chair.
"Hm…"
He began counting lazily on his fingers.
"Barrier generation."
"Energy Manipulation."
"Basic healing."
"Aquatic telepathy"
"Another potential-healing ability."
Midnight blinked.
"That's already way too many."
Aoyama ignored her.
"I also recently managed limited biological manipulation."
Nezu's eyes narrowed immediately.
"The black-and-white substance," he said flatly.
"Yeah."
Aoyama glanced at his hand.
"That one's still unstable, though."
Nezu watched him carefully.
"And all of these abilities are temporary?"
"Technically."
Aoyama smiled lightly.
"Most disappear once the clone disperses or even faster when I'm using them personally and prolonging the powers usage becomes a burden."
"Most?" midnight repeated.
Before Aoyama could answer—
RIIIIINGGGG—!!
The school bell echoed through the building.
Everyone paused.
Aoyama blinked once before standing from his chair.
"Well…"
He brushed imaginary dust from his sleeve.
"As fascinating as this interrogation has been, I'd rather not have my next teacher think I'm disrespectful on the first day."
Midnight let out a quiet laugh.
"He's got a point."
Nezu hummed thoughtfully before nodding.
"Very well."
His smile returned.
"We can continue this conversation another time."
Aoyama gave a small bow.
"Looking forward to it."
Whether that answer was sincere or sarcastic—
nobody in the room could tell.
Nezu's eyes shifted toward Midnight.
"Would you escort him back to class, please?"
"Of course~"
Midnight pushed herself off the wall and gestured dramatically toward the door.
"Come along, mystery boy."
Aoyama waved lazily as he walked out beside her.
"Try not to miss me too much."
The office door clicked shut behind them.
Silence settled across the room for several seconds.
Crrrr... Rkrr...
Slowly a hidden panel near the back wall quietly opened.
A sickly-thin man in a oversized yellow suit stepped out from the concealed section of the office.
All Might.
But unlike his usual public persona, he was incredibly frail and sick looking because of a life-threatening injury.
Toshinori Yagi's expression was unusually serious.
Nezu looked toward him calmly.
"Well?"
He folded his arms.
"You already know the answer."
His eyes lingered on the closed door.
"That boy was lying."
Nezu nodded once.
"Parts of it, at least."
"The explanation was too convenient," All Might continued.
"He mixed believable Quirk science with nonsense that's difficult to immediately disprove."
Nezu's smile thinned slightly.
"Yes…"
"He intentionally gave us an explanation unstable enough to discourage further experimentation."
Toshinori Yagi glanced toward the cloned teacup still resting on the table.
"But not so unbelievable that we could outright reject it."
He frowned.
"And the dangerous part?"
Nezu's sharp eyes reflected the steam rising from the cup.
"He never technically contradicted anything we've personally witnessed."
The room quieted again.
Because that was the problem.
Every lie Aoyama told had been carefully wrapped around observable truth.
Which made separating fact from fiction incredibly difficult.
Toshinori Yagi spoke again.
"Do you think he's dangerous?"
Nezu rested his chin against his paws thoughtfully.
Then smiled.
"Yes."
The answer came instantly.
"But…"
His eyes gleamed with curiosity.
"I also think Hikaru Aoyama is a boy desperately trying to control how the world perceives him before someone else decides that for him."
Toshinori Yagi looked toward the door.
"And if we push too hard?"
Nezu's smile faded slightly.
"Then we risk confirming whatever it is he's so afraid of."