Kaina—the real one—stared at her other self. Her eyes widened, tears pooling as recognition settled in. She knew exactly who stood before her. As a hero, she had studied psychology. She understood what this was. And still, it hurt.
"I know. I know everything," Kaina said, her voice cracking.
"I could've done better. You're right. If our parents saw me now... they wouldn't just be disappointed—they'd be heartbroken. I feel it every day. I didn't train like I should've. I was supposed to be smart, sharp enough to notice something was off sooner. But... I was scared."
"You were trained to act despite fear," the younger Kaina snapped. Her tone was cold, unforgiving.
Kaina bit her lip hard, trembling. Every word from this reflection echoed her own thoughts—thoughts she had buried deep. Words she didn't want to hear again. But part of her refused to stay silent any longer.
"I was trained, yes. But even we couldn't predict how they'd manipulate us. Do you think I wanted this? You say I was meant for greatness? That belief came from me. I'm the one who dared to hope that. You think I don't regret everything? Of course I do!" Her voice rose, full of pain and fury.
"But you—talking down from inside my head like some untouchable ideal—you did nothing. We're the same, and I still ended up here. So stop acting like you're above me. If you want to help, then help. For once."
She was crying now, yes, but her eyes burned with anger.
"Help for once?" the younger Kaina repeated, a bitter smile forming.
"Yeah. I should. At least I can make sure you walk out of here stronger... tougher. Because your failure is my failure. And I won't let that stand."
Without hesitation, she raised her arm and fired a shot directly at Kaina's face.
Kaina dove to the side, dodging the bullet and activating her Quirk in a flash.
She countered with a shot of her own. But her inner self was faster—already firing again. What caught Kaina off guard wasn't the speed, but the technique.
Her mental double had done something she'd never considered: her long hair connected with her weapon's mechanism, reloading it automatically.
The younger Kaina fired again, not like a machine gun, but with the precise rhythm of a revolver. Seven bullets—clean, rapid shots—far quicker than anything Kaina had managed before.
Kaina stared in disbelief. It was an ingenious use of her Quirk—combining it with her hair to reload seamlessly. She had long hair too, but had never imagined using it that way. She used to reload with her fingers, relying on quick reflexes. But this... this was something else.
She didn't even fully understand how her inner self was doing it. A sniper's magazine wasn't designed for speed. It only held a few high-powered rounds and was notoriously slow to reload between shots.
"You don't get it, do you?" the younger Kaina asked, eyes sharp and unwavering. "I am you. I know what you're thinking. But you don't know what you're thinking. You don't fully understand yourself. And until you do, you'll never grasp the true nature of your Quirk."
She took a step closer.
"Quirks are part of who you are. If you grow, they grow with you. But you…" the younger Kaina said, her voice sharp, "you've got reach, power, potential—but you're still limiting yourself. You keep treating your Quirk like it's just a sniper rifle. What a waste."
As soon as the words left her mouth, she moved—fast. In a blink, the younger Kaina fired a bullet that ricocheted off a wall, then used the rebound to launch herself at the real Kaina. Neither Kaina nor Mewtwo had seen it coming. The shot had only been a distraction. The real hit came a second later, slamming into Kaina's leg and knocking her off balance.
Before she could recover, her younger self appeared right in front of her and landed a powerful kick, sending her crashing into a nearby wall. Kaina retaliated instantly, raising her rifle and firing a quick shot while reloading with practiced efficiency. But it wasn't enough. Her younger self dodged smoothly, weaving from side to side—not because she was faster, but because she anticipated every move.
Kaina gritted her teeth. Even without the training this inner version claimed she lacked, she was still near the peak of human performance. It wasn't speed that made the difference. It was prediction—reaction time so precise it felt supernatural.
She kept attacking. Again and again. A dozen shots. Two dozen. Over 30.
Each attempt met with a perfect counter. Her other self didn't just fight back physically—she used the Quirk in creative, brutal ways Kaina had never imagined. She'd seen her hair morph into bullets, but now it moved like limbs, coiling and striking in close combat. One strand wrapped around Kaina's arm and yanked her forward, exposing her entire side.
The younger Kaina deactivated her Quirk mid-motion, then reactivated it instantly—using the rifle itself as a blunt weapon, smashing it into Kaina's ribs with bone-rattling force.
Kaina collapsed, groaning as she hit the ground. Blood dripped from her nose. Her vision blurred. Everything spun. She struggled to stay conscious, her limbs heavy, her mind reeling.
That last strike had been precise, targeted—she'd hit the exact nerve cluster to cause maximum disorientation without knocking her out cold.
Through hazy eyes, she looked up at the face of her inner self. It was her own face, but harder, colder. More calculated.
This wasn't just a different version of her—it was a different philosophy. One that didn't fight to kill, but to dominate, to leave no openings, no second chances. Every movement, every strike, was purposeful. Tactical. Efficient. It wasn't brute force. It was mastery.
"Thank you for bringing her here, kid," said the other Kaina as she looked back at Mewtwo, her voice calm but resolute.
"Now that we've met, we're one step closer to becoming who we're meant to be. If you hadn't brought her, maybe she never would've reached her full potential—not just in strength, but as a person."
She paused, then added, her gaze piercing, "If I can give you one piece of advice—do the same for yourself. I doubt you really know who you are yet. You've got an advantage most people in this world don't. Don't underestimate that. And before you say you don't… stop and really think."
As she spoke, she made a subtle hand gesture—one that felt oddly familiar to Mewtwo.
In an instant, a force surged around them. The world shifted.
They were thrown backward at incredible speed, soaring through the school's hallways. The walls blurred past them, the doors slammed shut behind as they flew through the corridors. Moments later, they were launched clear out of the building—and out of Kaina's mind entirely.
Suddenly, they were back.
Mewtwo and Lady Nagant sat on the floor, facing each other, eyes wide, as if they'd both just seen a ghost. For a moment, they didn't speak—just stared, trying to process what had happened.
Mental constructs like the superego were one thing. But to encounter a fully realized person—an actual self, speaking and acting independently inside someone's mind? That was something else entirely. Even Mewtwo hadn't imagined that was possible.
And if it was possible… what else could be lurking inside a mind?
He thought of schizophrenia, of fragmented identities, of people with Quirks that created autonomous mental copies.
What would their minds look like? What kind of impossible labyrinths could exist inside them?
One thing became disturbingly clear: inside the mind, people could be stronger—more complete versions of themselves. That meant entering someone's mind was far more dangerous than Mewtwo had initially assessed. What if he accidentally triggered a mental defense mechanism? Something that could trap him, injure him—or worse, kill him?
He hadn't even been able to move properly inside Kaina's mind. Sure, he hadn't pushed back too hard… but even so, the space felt alien, like it rejected him at a fundamental level.
"That was insane," Mewtwo muttered, still shaken, eyes turning to Kaina.
She didn't respond. Instead, she stood up slowly, walked to the door, and paused for just a moment before turning back. A quiet message echoed in his mind—clear, confident.
"Thank you. I know what I have to do now."
Then she walked away.
Where was she going? Mewtwo didn't know. And, for the moment, he realized… he didn't need to.
He had something else to face.
Himself.