Who You Are | MHA/BNHA

whatever we go through (i'll be your armor)

Melissa blinked in confusion as she found herself in an unfamiliar room. Softly lit by a warm glow, it contained a few pieces of furniture-a sofa, chairs, and a coffee table-and a large flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. "What-?" she whispered, her voice echoing softly in the empty space. "Where am I?" she asked aloud, though it seemed like no one was there to answer her.

As she tried to piece together what had happened, memories flooded back into her mind. The confrontation with Wolfram, her father's kidnapping, and the sudden appearance of All Might-all leading up to the moment when [Name] had seemingly lost control.

A sharp gasp escaped her mouth as she remembered. "[Name]! I need to go back!" Panic surged through her as she frantically searched for a way out of the room. But to her dismay, there was no door in sight. "W-Where am I?" she questioned, her voice trembling with fear.

"You're in what [Name] calls the Velvet Room," a masculine voice answered from behind her.

Startled, Melissa spun around to see a man with brown hair lounging on the sofa. He wore a beige trench coat and greeted her with a lazy wave. She took a hesitant step backward, her heart pounding in her chest. "W-Who are you?" she stammered, feeling a knot of unease forming in her stomach.

The man's smirk deepened as Melissa's confusion grew. "You don't remember me, kiddo?" he teased, his tone dripping with amusement.

Melissa furrowed her brow, feeling a mixture of frustration and curiosity. This man seemed to know something important, but he was in no hurry to share it. "I...I'm not sure," she admitted, her voice tinged with uncertainty. Despite her irritation, she couldn't shake the feeling that she should know him.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Melissa squared her shoulders with determination. "I need to go back," she insisted, her hands clenched tightly at her sides. Time was of the essence, and she couldn't afford to waste it here.

The man chuckled softly, his amusement evident. "Don't worry. You'll be sent back very soon," he assured her, though his tone held a hint of mystery. "But before you go, wouldn't you like to know why you're able to use [Name]'s quirk?"

Melissa's eyes widened with intrigue at the unexpected revelation. "You know how?" she asked eagerly, her curiosity piqued. Despite her urgency to return to her friends, the opportunity to unravel this mystery was too tempting to ignore. She had a feeling if she doesn't find out, she never will.

The man's nod was slow and deliberate as he leaned forward, his expression turning serious. "Exactly. Now, think about it. What sets you apart from the others?"

Melissa's response was immediate, spoken without a hint of shame or hesitation. "I don't have a Quirk," she admitted. It was a truth she had long accepted, finding strength in her own abilities despite the absence of a superpower. She had never felt inferior because of it, knowing that she could hold her own alongside those with quirks.

The man's response was unexpectedly cheerful, punctuated by a playful finger gun gesture. "Ding! Ding! You got it, kiddo!" he exclaimed, his smile broadening.

Melissa mirrored his gesture, her finger tapping against her chin in thought. "So, because I lack a quirk, it made it easier for [Name]'s Quirk to come to me for help, right?" she ventured, seeking confirmation.

"Spot on!" The man's posture relaxed as he settled back against the couch cushions. "[Name] understood that their Quirk is unique-it's sentient."

Melissa's eyes widened in shock at the revelation. "That's incredibly rare!" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with awe and disbelief. The idea of a quirk possessing its own consciousness, yet still tethered to its user, was nothing short of extraordinary.