I'm still in Cuddle Jail.

Two full hours of being warm, swaddled, and treated like a mix between a therapy animal and an emotionally damaged plush toy.

I tried biting her.

I tried faking a dramatic faint.

I even tried pretending I was dead for a solid thirty seconds.

Mirko just cooed louder and called me "her soft little chaos bun."

...Which is somehow worse than Mochi.

I've accepted my fate. I've curled into a ball of sizzling frustration and stewed there, glaring at everyone and everything like I'm plotting war crimes in my tiny bunny brain.

And that's when I hear it.

The click-click of shoes. Soft. Measured. A little too chipper for a post-disaster walk.

Mirko straightens slightly, her grip instinctively tightening on me.

"I see the famous rabbit's still under lockdown," a voice chirps from the doorway.

Oh no.

I don't even need to see him to know who that is.

Principal Nezu.

Part mouse, part bear, part terrifying coffee-fueled strategist who definitely knows where you sleep. He's everything I fear in a school administrator—and he's here.

To look at me.

"I heard something interesting," Nezu says as he pads into the room, tail flicking and beady eyes just a little too intelligent. "One severely underperforming escape attempt. One incredibly fluffy unknown rabbit with no Quirk signature. And one missing student."

Mirko exhales slowly through her nose, one brow rising.

"Coincidence?" she asks, voice light but not casual.

Nezu giggles. "Oh, I never believe in coincidence."

He hops into a chair beside her and sets down a tea tray like he just walked into a brunch date instead of a possible bio-quirk emergency.

"I wanted to see for myself," he says, picking up a tiny cup and sipping with a satisfied sigh. "This mystery bunny of yours. The one who glared at Recovery Girl so hard she called him emotionally compromised."

She wasn't wrong.

Mirko shifts slightly and lowers me into her lap again, hands cupped around me like she's holding a grenade. "He's not normal," she says simply.

Nezu hums. "So I've heard. He doesn't react like prey. No instinctive hiding. No freeze response when grabbed. And apparently, he tried to escape once and immediately began plotting a second attempt."

I shuffle uncomfortably. This is starting to feel less "support animal" and more "interrogation suspect."

"But," Nezu continues, eyes glinting, "what really caught my attention wasn't him."

He sets his teacup down. Looks straight at Mirko. Voice quiet now.

"It was the class headcount."

I freeze.

"So?" Mirko says evenly.

"One student missing," Nezu says. "Izuku Midoriya. Hero Course. No body found. Last seen during the USJ attack. There were signs of a struggle. His group was ambushed by multiple villains. Everyone else made it back."

My heart does a full Olympic dive into my fuzzy stomach.

Mirko's expression doesn't change.

"And you think I picked up a shapeshifted teenager?" she asks, deadpan.

"I think," Nezu says, "there are very few things in this world that can cause a spontaneous Quirk manifestation—stress, fear, trauma. If this is Midoriya... well. He would've been in the perfect conditions for it."

My ears twitch before I can stop them.

Nezu notices.

Of course he does.

He leans forward, tail flicking behind him like a metronome of doom.

"Mr. Midoriya is... unique. Quirkless until recently. Quiet. Passionate. Overachieving to the point of self-destruction. He would absolutely try to protect his classmates in a crisis—especially if it meant putting himself in harm's way."

Mirko stays silent.

Nezu sips his tea again. "And he's a terrible liar."

...I wiggle.

Because I hate how seen I feel right now.

But also because Mirko's arms are still like a warm cage and I need to process the fact that I've been outed by someone who hasn't even seen me move.

"You think this is him?" Mirko finally asks, brushing a thumb over my back.

Nezu smiles. "I think it's very, very likely."

"But there's no Quirk signature," she points out. "Recovery Girl ran four scans."

"Not all Quirks leave a signature. Some are passive. Some are mutation-based. And some, in times of extreme duress, may emerge incomplete or... unstable."

My entire body goes rigid.

Oh god.

Is that what this is?

A half-awakened Quirk dragging me into rabbit form like it couldn't decide what to do with my panic?

"Plus," Nezu adds with a sharp glint in his eyes, "Midoriya has a long history of injury. Yet this rabbit? Old fractures. Healed. Several."

Mirko and I both stiffen at that.

I should've known.

It was only a matter of time before someone started putting the puzzle together. And who better than the tiny cryptid CEO of this institution?

"But," Nezu continues, settling back, "I won't say anything. Not yet."

Mirko blinks. "You won't?"

He tilts his head. "What good would it do? He's safe here. Not in danger. And if it is him... he'll need time. Space. A safe place to calm down and think."

I blink up at him.

This terrifying mouse just bought me time?

Nezu smiles at me—warmly this time. "It's okay, Midoriya. You don't have to rush. You're allowed to fall apart. Even here."

I look down. Curl slightly into Mirko's lap. My ears lay flat, not from anger... just exhaustion.

Maybe I am allowed to just be a bunny for a bit.

Just a little bit.