The city was quiet, it was late at night, around 1 in the morning. After the chaos of the night, the silence felt surreal.
Dante was leaping from rooftop to rooftop, careful as to not be picked up by any cameras. On his back, nestled between his shoulder blades, Rinji slept soundly with his arms loosely around Dante's neck. The kid had dozed off not long after they had left the forestry, exhausted beyond words, physically, mentally, emotionally. He didn't even stir awake when Dante took the scarf off him so he could be disguised.
Dante's own body was still aching. His bones weren't fully healed, just stitched together by small threads of sludge.
Eventually, Dante dropped down into the alleys and into the sewer.
The sewer was the same as ever, dark, damp and cold. The metal door to the base hissed open, revealing the dim interior of his home. Dante stepped in quietly, careful not to disturb Rinji's nap.
He walked into his bedroom, his bed was barely touched since it was set up, just a mattress, a pillow and a blanket neatly folded. Dante moved over and slowly crouched, letting the boy slip down off his back and into his arms before laying him gently onto the mattress.
The boy stirred a little, murmuring something unintelligible. Dante pulled the blanket over him and stood there for a moment, looking at him.
For a second, something inside of Dante softened.
He turned and walked back to the main room, to the large desk where papers, maps and notebooks still cluttered the surface. He pulled out a chair, dropped into it and let his head fall back.
His body ached, but sleep crept in quietly.
He closed his eyes.
The base fell into silence again.
…
5 hours later, Dante woke up.
His eyes opened, pupils adjusting instantly to the low light. His body wasn't in agony anymore. The feeling of his bones being stitched together was gone. Instead, he actually felt pretty good.
He stood up from the chair he was slept in, joints clicking, muscles flexing.
Not pain.
Not even a limp.
He yawned and walked over to the workbench, flipped open his most recent notebook and began writing. The scratch of pen against paper filled the silence.
[Entry 8921 — Post-Nomu Conflict Analysis.]
- Absorbed about 12 Mid-Tier Nomu and 1 Upper Tier.
- Strength multiplier increased from 20.5x > 25x after absorbing the Mid Tiers and then > 30x after absorbing the Upper Tier.
- Nomu physiology is composed of multiple muscle and quirk memory imprints from former humans and grafting several humans together in order to withstand new quirks being added on, interesting.
- Mutations stores in musculature and reflexive response patterns. Sludge absorbed it.
- I have made progress, I was able to ignite my sludge in that battle.
- I can somewhat replicate their Mutation/Tramsformation quirks through Hardcoil-Body adaptation. Partial assimilation.
- Upper Tier Nomu possessed advanced regeneration, after absorbing this Nomu, it's regeneration quirk seemed to fuse with my sludge, or more accurately, my sludge is trying to replicate it. My version's differences:
1. NOT healing.
2. My sludge merely repositioned broken muscle/bone using stored regeneration muscle memory.
3. I can still feel the pain, it hurts real bad.
4. A full recovery seems to depend on sleep.
CONCLUSION : Quirk adaptation through absorption IS possible. Though, it's only for transformation/mutation quirks through sludge being able to replicate the physical changes.
He paused a bit at the last part. His pen hovered, then slowly continued writing in smaller handwriting.
- Little Dante seems to have changed, maybe my little outburst helped him realise something.
With a quiet sigh, he closed the notebook, set the pen aside and headed for the shower.
The freezing cold water hit his skin, grime washed down the drain. His muscles relaxed, he even tried to wash his hair a little, but it was too far gone, he needed it cut, but he didn't care all that much about his appearance so he didn't bother cutting it.
He stepped out, dried off quickly and walked into the kitchen in loose, dark clothes.
He stood there, hands braced against the counter, eyes flicking between the stove and the half empty fridge.
"What the hell do kids eat?"
He opened the fridge again as if something new would magically appear. Some leftover rice that was probably out of date. A half used bottle of soy sauce. One whole onion. Eggs. Some bruised green peppers. A questionable jar of pickles. He stared at the ingredients like they were mocking him.
"Okay," he muttered, fingers twitching. "It's just breakfast, not that hard, right?"
But he could feel it creeping in again, tension in his shoulders. The same tension he felt when planning the attack on the truck or when he was about to fight those Nomu. Only now it was over breakfast. It was ridiculous. He clenched his jaw.
"Why did I agree to this…"
He grabbed the eggs. Safe. Basic. Universal. He cracked four open into a pan, added a small pinch of salt and turned on the heat. The sizzle grounded him a little. It was fine. He could do this.
Behind him, soft footsteps approached.
"Whoa…"
Dante didn't turn, but his eye twitched a little at the sound of Rinji's awe struck voice.
"This place is so cool," Rinji whispered as he wandered through the base, touching the walls like it was some kind of sacred ground. "Is this all… yours?"
Dante nodded without looking back. "It's mine."
"You built this whole thing? That's like, villain stuff… but you're not a villain, right?"
"No, I didn't build this place. I inherited it from someone very close to me." Dante replied flatly. "And no, I'm not a villain either."
There was a pause before Rinji spoke again, quieter this time. "You're right… I'm sorry for asking a silly question."
The kids voice carried respect and a little relief. Dante didn't respond. The eggs were almost done. He plated them with a piece of dry toast on each side and slit one plate toward the end of the counter.
"Here. Eat."
Rinji blinked, then rushed over, climbing up on a tall stool. He looked down at the food with wide eyes, like it was something special. "You made this?"
Dante nodded and sat down at the table.
Rinji smiled faintly and started digging in.
After they finished eating, Dante led Rinji through a hallway and through a doorway. Rinji followed close behind, eyes wide but his expression neutral—watching everything, absorbing details quietly. In his arms, Dante held a fresh notebook, its pages untouched, this would be his "Rinji Book."
They entered the training room. The air was still, floor clean and the atmosphere calm. Dante pointed to the center of the room.
"Stand over there," he said, his voice steady.
Rinji nodded immediately and walked to the center, standing up straight like a soldier being inspected. His posture was stiff, shoulders tight. Dante sat cross legged on the floor nearby, notebook in hand, pen ready.
"Let's start from the start," Dante said without looking up. "Just answer me honestly."
Rinji gave a small nod. "Yes, sir."
Dante paused at that, but he didn't bother correcting him.
"Name."
"Rinji."
"Age."
"Eight, nearly nine."
"Birthday?"
"September Eighth."
"Quirk?"
Rinji hesitated. "I call it… Chainstride. It makes me get faster the more I run, but I go back to normal if I stand still for a little…"
Dante looked a little surprised but he nodded, jotting it down.
"Favourite animal?"
Rinji blinked. "Bunnies."
Dante flinched slightly and looked up, raising a brow. "Why?"
"They're small… cute… but fast. And quiet. People don't notice them."
Dante hummed and wrote that down too.
"Anything you're scared of?"
A pause. Rinji looked at the floor. "I dunno, being alone maybe?"
Dante didn't write that one down right away.
He just looked at the boy for a moment.
"…Right," he said quietly and moved on.
A/N: Rinji drawings…