The Boy Who Wont Forget

The next morning, dim light filtered through the cracked window, painting the room in dull shades of gray. Ren sat on the bed, his back against the wall, arms resting loosely on his knees. His fingers tapped rhythmically against his legs, his mind already processing the night before.

All For One.

He wasn't 100% sure yet, but the signs were all there—the way the man spoke, the way he watched Ren like he was a chess piece he was already moving. He didn't need a dramatic reveal. This wasn't a TV show. His instincts, honed through experience and memories of another life, told him everything he needed to know.

This guy isn't some mob boss. He's the villain they tell stories about.

Ren exhaled, shaking his head. Honestly, if this was anyone else's life, I'd feel bad for them. But in his case, it wasn't the worst outcome. He didn't have a moral compass tying him down—at least, not yet. Villains, heroes—whatever. He just needed power and a way to survive. If getting close to All For One gave him that, then he'd play along.

A knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts. Before he could respond, the door creaked open, and the man stepped inside. Gone was the intimidating black coat—he was dressed more casually now, but that didn't make him any less threatening. His presence filled the room like a heavy fog.

"Morning, Ren," the man said, his tone polite but with that undertone of control that couldn't be ignored. "I trust you slept well."

Ren stood up, brushing his fingers through his jet-black hair. "Yeah, I did."

That's a lie, he thought. He'd barely slept. His mind had been running through scenarios all night, thinking about Shigaraki, the system, and how long he could keep up the act without slipping.

The man smiled faintly. "Good. Follow me."

Ren walked alongside him as they moved through the building. The place was old—cracked walls, water stains on the ceiling, and the faint smell of rust in the air. Light spilled through broken windows, casting shadows across the dusty floor. He kept his gaze sharp, mentally mapping the layout in case he needed to make a quick exit.

When they entered a large open space that looked like it had once been a factory floor, Ren's heart rate picked up, but not out of fear. He recognized what this was: a testing ground. The kind of place where someone would be evaluated, pushed to see what they could do.

The man turned to face him, hands clasped behind his back. "I want to see what you can do when you're not acting on instinct."

Ren blinked. "You want me to use my quirk?"

"Exactly. Last night, you acted out of fear. Today, I want you to act with purpose. Show me control."

Control. That word carried more weight than it should have. When Ren had first woken up in this body, his blood manipulation had seemed wild, violent, something outside of his grasp. But that wasn't the truth. He knew how to use it—he'd known the moment he absorbed the ability. The system didn't just give him power; it gave him knowledge. Last night's mess had been the result of shock, not inexperience.

Still, let's not show him everything, he thought, hiding the smirk threatening to form. He thinks I'm just a kid who barely knows what he's doing. Let's keep it that way.

He crouched slightly, pretending to focus on his breathing. His fingers flexed as he called on the blood inside him, feeling the familiar hum spread through his veins. But instead of making it look effortless, he furrowed his brow and gritted his teeth, acting like it was taking all his concentration.

The man watched him carefully. He's looking for weakness, Ren realized. Good. Let him see it.

Ren extended his hand toward the small puddle on the floor where a leak had dripped overnight. In his mind, he replaced the image of the water with blood—thick, red, and obedient. His fingers twitched, and the puddle rippled slightly before stilling. He let out a sharp breath, wiping his forehead as if the effort had drained him.

"Relax," the man said, his voice low and guiding. "You're tensing too much. Let the power flow naturally."

Ren let out a frustrated huff. "I'm trying," he muttered, pretending to be annoyed with himself. The truth was, he could have formed a blood whip in seconds, but that wasn't part of the plan. He needed to stay in character.

All for one stepped closer, resting a hand on Ren's shoulder. His touch was light, but it carried weight. "You have potential, but you're afraid of it. That fear is holding you back."

You're not wrong, Ren thought. But it's not fear of my quirk—it's fear of showing too much.

"I'm not afraid," Ren said quietly, lowering his gaze slightly to sell the act. "I just don't know what I'm doing."

The man nodded, his fingers tapping lightly against Ren's shoulder. "Then let me help you."

Ren crouched again, pretending to refocus. He lifted his hand, and this time, he let the blood respond just enough to move. A small droplet formed on his fingertip, glistening like liquid ruby under the dim light. The droplet quivered, sliding along his skin before lifting slightly into the air.

"Good," the man murmured, his gaze never leaving Ren's hand. "Now, move it."

The droplet floated, wobbling slightly as Ren pretended to struggle with control. But in reality, he was already thinking two steps ahead. This is nothing. If I wanted, I could form a blade and end this conversation right now. But he wouldn't. Not yet.

The droplet fell to the ground, splattering against the concrete.

Ren stood, breathing heavily as if the task had taken everything he had. "It's harder than I thought."

The man smiled, that calculated gleam returning to his eyes. "You're doing well for your first day. Tomorrow, we'll test your limits."

Ren nodded, masking the smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips. You have no idea what my limits are.

As he followed the man back through the hallway, Ren's thoughts raced. He'd bought himself more time, but he knew it wouldn't last forever. All For One wasn't the kind of person you could deceive indefinitely. But for now, Ren had what he needed: proximity to power and a chance to grow.

He knew he needed power to get back to his family, and he didn't care if he had to kill all his adversaries to get there