The last days of summer vacation carried a certain stillness. The cicadas still buzzed, the ocean waves still rolled in and out, and the golden hue of the afternoon sun still stretched lazily across the beach. Yet, for Leon, there was an unshakable awareness that his time here was running out.
Seated on the porch of Thadius's estate, Leon stared at the horizon, sipping a cold drink. His body still carried the faint soreness from the recent fight, but it was a satisfying kind of ache—the kind that reminded him of progress. He had pushed himself further, and the results had shown.
Thadius, seated across from him in a wooden chair, finally spoke, his voice carrying a weight that immediately commanded Leon's attention.
"After you return, register your quirk."
Leon lowered his drink, raising an eyebrow. "Alright."
Thadius studied him for a moment. "No resistance?"
Leon shrugged. "I was never against it in the first place."
A breeze rolled in from the ocean, rustling the palm trees. Thadius swirled his own glass idly before setting it down. "Then why haven't you done it already?"
Leon exhaled, thinking for a moment before responding. "No real reason, I guess. It wasn't a priority."
Thadius nodded slightly. "I suppose, in a way, it wasn't. You've never needed a piece of paper to validate what you can do." He leaned forward slightly, golden eyes gleaming. "But it is necessary."
Leon knew that tone. The old man wasn't just making a casual suggestion. This was one of those 'listen carefully, because this will matter' moments.
He sat up a little straighter. "Why?"
Thadius folded his hands together. "Because legitimacy is power. It's not just about what you can do—it's about how the world recognizes it. And right now, the system doesn't acknowledge you."
Leon's fingers tapped against the glass in his hand. "I get that it'd be useful in certain situations, but it's not like I need people's recognition to be strong."
Thadius chuckled, but there was no amusement in it. "Strength alone means nothing without the framework to support it. Right now, you're an anomaly—a ghost. You could walk into any room and be underestimated, dismissed, or, worse, labeled as a threat simply because you don't exist within the proper channels. But once you're registered? You become part of the structure. You gain access to training, resources, and, most importantly, credibility."
Leon stayed silent, mulling over the words.
Thadius continued, his voice dropping slightly. "Think about it this way. If, one day, you find yourself in a situation where you need to use your abilities in public, without registration, you're a liability. A wild card. But if you're registered? You have the law on your side. You don't just have power; you have the right to use it."
Leon clicked his tongue. "So it's about control."
Thadius smirked. "Control is inevitable, one way or another. The only question is who holds it."
Leon exhaled through his nose. "Yeah, alright. You've made your point. I'll do it."
Thadius leaned back, satisfied. "Good."
Silence settled between them for a moment. The waves continued their endless cycle, crashing against the shore.
Leon glanced over. "You thought I'd argue more, didn't you?"
Thadius smirked. "Maybe a little."
Leon chuckled, shaking his head.
Thadius took a sip of his drink before speaking again, this time more casually. "I know you don't like dealing with bureaucracy, but this isn't just for your sake. It's for the future. A name in the system now means fewer obstacles later. If you want to be a hero, this is one of the necessary steps."
Leon looked out at the ocean, letting the words settle in. It wasn't a bad deal, not really. He had just never given it much thought.
With a sigh, he stood up, stretching. "Guess I'll take care of it once I'm back."
Thadius nodded, lifting his glass slightly. "Good man."
The next morning, Leon stepped out of his house in Musutafu, adjusting the strap of his bag as he locked the door behind him. The suburban neighborhood was calm, with only a few early risers out and about—elderly couples taking leisurely strolls, joggers getting their morning runs in, and the occasional delivery vehicle making its rounds. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the pavement.
His destination? The Quirk Registration Center.
Getting there required a bit of navigation, but nothing too complicated. He walked a few blocks to the nearest bus stop, waiting as a few other passengers gathered—office workers, a couple of high school students, and a mother with her child, probably heading somewhere similar. The bus itself was a modern electric model, smooth and quiet as it pulled up. The doors slid open with a soft hiss, and Leon stepped inside, swiping his transit card before settling into a seat near the window.
The ride was relatively uneventful, the city gradually growing busier as they got closer to the central district. At his stop, Leon disembarked and transferred to a local train. The station was bustling with commuters, and he skillfully weaved through the crowd to catch the next train heading towards the research sector of the city.
Musutafu's Quirk Registration Center wasn't just a government office—it was also a high-level medical and research institution, responsible for analyzing and documenting quirks, studying their potential risks, and offering specialized testing for abilities that required controlled environments. It wasn't uncommon for pro heroes to visit for quirk evaluations, especially those with more destructive or hazardous abilities, like the pro hero Thirteen and her Black Hole quirk.
After stepping off the train, Leon walked the remaining distance. The Quirk Registration Center stood prominently among the other buildings—its design sleek and modern, with reflective glass panels and a distinct symbol above the entrance, a stylized 'Q' intertwined with a DNA strand. Large automatic doors slid open as he approached, and he stepped inside.
The lobby was lively.
Children, most of them around the usual quirk-awakening age of four, were accompanied by their parents, some of whom looked excited while others seemed more anxious. A few kids were showing off their newly awakened quirks—one little girl gleefully floating a few inches off the ground, while a boy's hands flickered with harmless sparks of light. There were also individuals dressed in professional attire, either researchers or government officials, and workers in white lab coats, likely quirk analysts or medical professionals.
Leon made his way toward the front desk. The reception area was well-maintained, with a polished counter and digital terminals displaying information on quirk registry processes. The receptionist, a woman in her late twenties, glanced up from her screen as he approached. She had sharp, dark eyes framed by glasses, and her black hair was neatly tied into a bun. Her uniform was crisp and professional, with an ID badge clipped onto the pocket.
"I'm here for quirk registry," Leon said casually.
The woman gave a polite nod before responding, her tone businesslike. "Then, can you please show me who's quirk is to be registered?"
Leon blinked. "Me."
That made the woman pause. She raised an eyebrow, tilting her head slightly. There was a flicker of surprise in her expression, followed by a hint of skepticism.
"You?" she repeated, her gaze briefly scanning him as if reevaluating. "How old are you?"
"Thirteen," Leon replied.
The receptionist frowned slightly. "Most people register their quirks as children, especially before they enter elementary school. Why haven't you done it until now?"
Leon exhaled, already anticipating the need to explain. "When I was a kid—before quirk-awakening age—I got checked out like everyone else. They didn't find the extra joint in my pinky toe, which meant I was quirkless, or so they thought."
The woman's expression didn't shift much, but he could tell she was listening.
"But when I turned four, I awakened my quirk," Leon continued. "At the time, it wasn't a big deal since I was still just a kid, and we kind of just… forgot about the whole registry thing." He shrugged. "Never really got around to it."
There was a brief silence as the receptionist considered his words. She adjusted her glasses slightly, then let out a small sigh. "That's… highly unusual, but not impossible." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "You're aware that, legally speaking, being unregistered means any quirk usage in public spaces is technically unauthorized?"
Leon smirked slightly. "Good thing I'm fixing that today, then."
The woman exhaled, shaking her head before tapping on her keyboard. "Alright. We'll have to run the standard identification and quirk evaluation tests. Please take a seat, and you'll be called shortly."
A voice crackled through the speakers in the waiting room, clear and professional.
"Leon Lioren, Evaluation Room 03."
Leon stood, stretching slightly before heading down the hallway as directed. The walls were a neutral white, lined with plaques and framed images of various pro heroes who had undergone evaluations in the same building. The corridor was quiet, the sounds of murmured conversations and medical equipment muffled behind closed doors.
Reaching Room 03, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The evaluation room was simple and sterile, a mix between a medical office and a research lab. A clean examination table stood to one side, along with a few chairs and a desk equipped with multiple monitors displaying medical data. Cabinets lined the walls, likely filled with diagnostic tools and paperwork. The atmosphere smelled faintly of antiseptic.
Seated behind the desk was a man in his mid-thirties, wearing a standard white lab coat over a dress shirt. He had short, slightly unkempt brown hair and an easygoing expression, the kind that made him seem more like a casual professional than a rigid bureaucrat. His ID badge read Dr. Hideo Morita.
Dr. Morita glanced up as Leon entered, offering a polite nod. "Leon Lioren, right? Go ahead and take a seat."
Leon did as instructed, settling into the chair across from the desk.
Dr. Morita tapped a few keys on his keyboard before turning his attention back to Leon. "Alright, before we start the quirk evaluation, let's go through the basics. I see there's no parental record listed here. Can you confirm your legal guardian?"
Leon rested an elbow on the armrest, answering casually, "I don't have any parents, just a legal guardian. Name's Thadius. He actually called ahead to take care of the paperwork."
The doctor raised a brow but nodded. "Ah, I see. That simplifies things on our end, then." He scrolled through the information on his screen before leaning back. "Alright, now onto the main reason you're here—your quirk. Why don't you tell me what it does?"
Leon exhaled slightly, thinking of the best way to put it without overexplaining. "It's a form of energy that lets me enhance my body. I can reinforce my strength, speed, endurance—basically my overall physical performance."
Dr. Morita's eyes sharpened with interest. "Energy-based enhancement, huh? That's an interesting classification. Can you describe how it manifests? Is it visible? Do you produce any side effects, like heat, light, or an aura?"
Leon smirked slightly at the unintended accuracy of that last word but shook his head. "Not really. It's mostly internal. I feel it flow through me when I use it, but it doesn't cause any flashy external effects."
The doctor hummed in thought, typing down notes. "No external discharge, purely internal application… Do you experience any drawbacks? Fatigue? Overuse consequences?"
Leon considered the question for a moment before replying, "Yeah, using it too much drains me. It's like exerting yourself beyond your limits—the more I push, the more it takes out of me."
Dr. Morita nodded as he listened, his fingers flying over the keyboard as he logged the details. "That's fairly common among enhancement-type quirks. Some work passively, while others require active control. Sounds like yours falls into the latter category."
Leon didn't confirm or deny, simply letting the doctor draw his own conclusions.
Dr. Morita finished typing before turning back to him. "Alright, we'll run a few basic physical tests to measure your capabilities with and without quirk activation. But first, there's one last thing—you need to name your quirk."
Leon blinked. "I have to name it?"
The doctor chuckled. "Yeah, it's required for registry. The name will be recorded on your official documents, and it'll be used if your quirk ever gets referenced in reports or legal situations."
Leon leaned back slightly, crossing his arms as he thought. He could get creative, but that didn't really seem necessary. He preferred something simple and straightforward—something that fit without overcomplicating things.
After a brief moment, he exhaled through his nose, deciding.
"I'll call it… Aura."
Dr. Morita paused before nodding approvingly. "Aura, huh? Fitting name for an internal energy-based enhancement. Alright, let's proceed with the evaluation."