Nejire

Of all the pitfalls AFO had seen, none had been more damning for the modern superhero than the lack of secret identities. Call him old fashioned but he remembered once upon a time, when heroes and villains had their identities kept secret being only known to the viewer most times. It kept them safe, kept their enemies from surprising them and it was a nice way to just unwind at times.

Most heroes...didn't do that nowadays.

Yes, for whatever reason, the heroes of to day had their identities publicly known, their faces plastered on the walls everywhere. It was an absolutely ludicrous thing to do in the old villain opinion. After all, why are you going and risking your heroes privacy by letting any decent villain just...you know....search up the top students in UA, find there quirks, possible addresses and such.

That's how he found Nejire Hado, second year, soon to be third year student at U.A. She was one of the schools top students, one of the Big Three and for AFO a perfect candidate for a new body. A bubbly cheerful girl with a very simple yet versatile quirk. While he might of prefered taking one of the boys, their quirks were just too technical for his liking. As good as possession was, he doubted he could do the mastery they did. In the case of the boy, Tamaki, his quirk was also very limited in its use, since it required additional stuff.

Nevertheless AFO had gotten his hands on Ms. Hado easy enough. She had some solo routes, easy enough to track her, ambush her and capture her without much issue. Once he had her, it was easy to transfer himself via the quirk. Which is what leads to the current state of event.

"This feels even better than I imagined." AFO spoke with Nejire's voice as he posed before the mirror. Upon successfully taking her body, he had wasted no time in returning to her home.

AFO stretched Nejire's lithe limbs experimentally, rolling her shoulders and arching her back with a satisfied sigh. The supple flexibility of youth was intoxicating—every movement smooth, effortless, unburdened by age. He ran Nejire's hands along the curves of her waist, marveling at how the uniform clung to her toned frame, how the fabric stretched taut over her thighs when she shifted.

Her reflection grinned back at him—that same bright, toothy smile, though now it carried something darker beneath the cheer.

AFO tilted Nejire's head, studying the way her lavender hair swayed with the motion. He practiced her signature grin in the mirror—first too sharp, then too ****—before settling into that perfect balance of playful energy and effortless charm. He could feel the ghost of her mannerisms lingering in the muscles, the way her fingers naturally curled when she laughed, the slight bounce in her step that made her ribbons flutter.

"Wowzers!" he chirped in her voice, testing the pitch. Too high. He cleared her throat and tried again, softening the edges. "Oh man, that was crazy!" Better. The words tasted like sugar on her tongue, unfamiliar but intoxicating.

AFO chuckled darkly, watching Nejire's reflection bite her plush lower lip in a way she never would have. The girlish mannerisms came so easily now—the tilt of her head, the flutter of her lashes, the way her hips swayed when she shifted her weight. He practiced her laugh again, letting it bubble up from her throat in that signature melodic giggle before cutting it off abruptly.

"Master~" he cooed in Nejire's voice, dropping into an exaggerated curtsy that made. The words dripped with saccharine devotion as he clasped her hands beneath her chin. "Your humble servant awaits your command!"