The smell of burnt fabric and ozone clings to me as I push into the support lab. My third costume this month lies in tatters in my arms - Kacchan's 'training' tends to be explosive in every sense. Mei's already spinning in her chair before the door finishes closing, goggles reflecting the overhead lights like twin moons. 'Full rebuild or tactical upgrade?' she asks, wrench already in hand. When I mention suppressant cuffs, her eyebrows disappear into her pink bangs. 'That's...not standard Daylight gear.' The file she produces feels wrong before I even open it. The quirk description reads like a children's cartoon, and the Hero Type field - 'Daylight' in bold print - makes my stomach drop. This isn't my handwriting. This isn't my choice. Mei slides a blank form across the table, her usual manic energy replaced by something sharper. 'Write your truth,' she says, just as the intercom crackles with a summons to Principal Nezu's office.