Existence…

It's an odd feeling…

They're breathing.

Their heart is beating.

They exist now…the proof is there, after all…

But…

How?

Why?

What...are they…?

Their eyes slowly open. Everything remains blurry as their vision adjusts to their new surroundings. Once it was clear, they can see the area that surrounded them at the moment is dimly lit. There are tints of green here and there, most likely appearing that way due to the aforementioned poor lighting.

They sit themself up, releasing a soft sigh from their lips. The cold sensation from where they once laid down—a containment pod—their mind instinctively tells them, remains there. A thin fabric hangs off somewhat loosely over their shoulder—a hospital gown—their mind informs them once more. They don't bother to fix it up. They also become scarcely aware of the long, disheveled hair that flows down past their waist. Their bangs are also unusually long, but they didn't care much to brush them off with their hand, at least, not at this time.

They're aware they shouldn't possess this kind of knowledge, not when their mind remained blank at this moment, and yet, there's a part in their mind that knew that this odd place is a lab of some sort. A crudely made one at that, they mentally add.

As soon as they hear brief traces of hushed gasps from nearby, they knew they're not the only occupant within this area.

It didn't take long for their mind to completely clear at last. Their eyes quickly dart over from each part of this area, carefully analyzing their surroundings.

The dimness that was there only a minute ago is gone and is soon replaced with the bright, flashing lights from the ceiling. It would've been blinding to some other people. Although that allowed them to see their environment better, that's not what got their mild interest.

There are dozens of men, most of whom are dressed in pristine white lab coats, or, if not that, then some kind of uniform—researchers, scientists, nurses, doctors, security guards, surgeons—that crowded and surrounded them from almost every corner of this small area. If they were to do an exact headcount, perhaps it'd be even more than that.

They don't understand where that sudden spike of chill in their back came from. They briefly question it, but after a second of thinking it over, they figured the answer wouldn't matter much in the long run.

There are also far too many murmurs for their liking, they mentally note to themself. Theoretically, they could decode whatever those men are saying in their audible murmurs, but then, they didn't feel like expelling that kind of effort. Whatever they're murmuring about, it didn't matter to them anyway.

Even without making eye contact with a single one of them, they can feel the dozens of eyes that are staring right through them, like they're an oddity. A curiosity to be gawked at.

In a way, they suppose that's exactly what they are. Though they aren't completely sure yet, they know to themself that they're not like those people who continue to stare at them.

They lift their head to take a better look at those men. As expected, their murmurs grow in volume. More frantic and not as hushed as it was mere moments ago. They even see several of them scribble something down on their notepads.

They take their attention away from those men, and it's only then they take note of the small group. That group is composed of four members, all of whom are old men, much older than the other occupants. Unlike the rest, they're relatively calmer and more composed, on the surface, that is.

One of the men, possibly one member among the researchers, to be exact, breaks the relative silence with a relaxed tone that also reeked of subtle excitement. "The Kamukura Project is appearing to be a success. The test subject has awoken and so far, she doesn't appear to suffer from any ill effects, physically or otherwise."

"We've truly done this.."

"Indeed." The round member among the four old men gleefully agrees, commenting as well, "This is the fruit of our labors, after a long, grueling process that spanned over one hundred and ninety-six days. The second coming of Izuru Kamukura is all but secured."

Another member of the old men chuckles. This time, it's the shortest, and judging by their senile appearance, the oldest one as well, who speaks up. "Our Ultimate Hope is quite the fine specimen, don't you all think so?"

There's another person in there; they noticed him several moments ago already but didn't pay any more attention to him than anyone else.

The teenaged boy clicks his tongue, rolling his eyes while he dismissively waves a hand off. "Yeah, right. Sure, they may have survived until the end of the process without looking like a lobotomy patient, but you old fucks didn't care to think, hey, what if they'd up degenerating over time just like the others did?"

The four old men tuts at him, shaking their heads in disapproval.

"Hold your tongue, Matsuda." The old man with gray hair and beard sternly scolds.

"Be quiet, Matsuda. Do not ruin our first impression right now of all times." The shortest one adds in as well.

The boy, Matsuda, as he's called, simply crosses his arms and turns his head away from them. "As if you haven't done that yourself already." He mutters.

The shortest one of the old men growls, most likely frustrated with the boy's continual defiance against his elders. He shakes his head once, taking a deep breath and sighing to himself, before facing towards them. "I humbly apologize for that display. Unfortunately, Matsuda is quite the troublesome one, as you can see here."

Said boy snorts after hearing his name is called out.

"It doesn't matter." They simply reply, not even batting an eye towards them.

The short old man hums after hearing that, rubbing two hands over his chin. He steps a bit closer, leaning his face forward. He looks at them right in the eye as he asks, "Do you know who you are?"

Without breaking eye contact with that short old man, they scan their mind for something, anything that can give them a hint that would help in answering the short old man's question. When they didn't find any, they bluntly tell the short old man, "I am unable to recall any memories before this moment."

At that moment, the short old man smiles. His smile is a thin line that might've stretched from ear to ear, with how wide it appears to be. "Perfect." Even though he breaks his eye contact with them, he nevertheless continues to directly address them anyway as they say, "I suppose it's only fair to inform you about certain things, then. To start, your name is Izuru Kamukura."

They repeat their name, "Izuru…Kamukura…" For some reason, the name felt foreign on their tongue. Still, Izuru, as they supposed that's what they should call themself starting as of today, decides to listen intently to what else the short old man and his colleagues have to say for them.

He continues, "To recap, the former owner of this body, as well as a few others, has undergone what they knew as 'The Hope Cultivation Program', a program that would allow them to be recognized as Ultimate students. In reality, the program's name has, and always been, 'The Kamukura Project'. The goal was always to create the perfect Ultimate, the beginning of humanity's brighter future."

That short old man pauses, and soon, one of his colleagues, the round old man helpfully interjects with, "Additionally, the procedure made sure to vacate all of the memories and emotions this body once held to make way for the numerous talents we've implanted. The same talents that would later create you."

The explanation those old men gave them made them think. So…this body wasn't even theirs in the first place? "Who was the previous owner of this body?"

"No one of particular importance." The old man with gray hair and beard answers immediately, perhaps far too quickly, even.

Something is gnawing at the back of their mind after they heard that, but they assume that this was only an instinctive reaction, the body's muscle memory, to be exact, and so, they ignored it. With that out of the way, they recall a certain detail and so, they decide to ask, "You've mentioned a few others have participated in this procedure as well? What became of them?"

The round old man sighs, shaking his head with a shrug. "Unfortunately, the other test subjects were unable to make it as far as you've had. Matter of fact, many of them expired before they even made it close to half of the procedures," He presses two fingers over his forehead. "It truly is a great waste of potential."

"I suppose that makes me the only success you've had so far." Izuru deduces.

He nods. "When you put it that way, I suppose so as well."

The other three men turn to each other and whisper to themselves. From what Izuru can hear, the old men are talking about having better luck in the near future and if possible, hope for a potential male success this time around.

Shortly after that, the old men recompose themselves.

The old man with gray hair and beard clears his throat for a moment, before informing them, "For now, our team will be conducting a series of tests on you."

"Tests?" They interrupt. "I assume it has something to do with the process this body was involved in, would that be right?"

He briefly goes quiet, taken aback by that response. A second passes, and his features turn calm once again as he slowly nods. "Indeed. They'll be checking your vitals, as well as for any abnormalities that might've slipped past." His arms cross. "We don't want to lose something so priceless and valuable after putting through so many resources in it, after all. We hope you understand."

"Additionally," The round old man adds, "After an hour from now, we will conduct a different series of tests. This time, these are the ones that would test all of the possible talents you might have. For today, we'll be focusing on your physical talents."

This time, Izuru doesn't reply to any of that. They've heard enough already, and therefore, there is no further point to continue this any further. They can easily guess what the old men meant by 'physical talents'.

The old men seem to have taken the hint, correctly perceiving their silence as an end to their conversation. Turning away from them, the group of old men steps away from their field of vision, all while the men in white lab coats—the doctors—take a step closer to them. Matsuda has also joined in with them as well, though he keeps his distance by at least half a meter away from them.

"We'll leave you to it." is the last thing that old man said right before he and his colleagues close the door behind them, leaving the Ultimate Hope in to be examined by the team of doctors under Matsuda's supervision.

Izuru supposes that the sudden chills their body involuntarily would at certain times, notably when those doctors come close and touch them for examination, would go away in time.

...

….

…..

"We will begin with these sets of tests…"

"Get up! Get up and try again."

"You're already progressing far better than our initial predictions would've led us to believe."

"I expected no less from our Ultimate Hope."

Those are the words Izuru has learned to grow accustomed to as days quickly pass on for them.

The people around them always acted the same and tended to say the same things over and over; even if they hadn't possessed the analyzing talent, they would've found those reactions far too predictable at this point.

It's all monotonous. Nothing has changed in the rigid routine the Steering Committee has set up for them, not even a little bit. Even the aches and bruises they received from the physical tests stopped being bothersome after the first two days.

It's all so…

Boring…

A/N: Alright, we're back to business here, baby! Now it's back to regular scheduling. I know that this chapter's kinda short, so quick apology for that.

Anyways, Nanakura's here at last, haha! (side note: bless my online friends for that perfect and lovely nickname)

As for what their voice would sound like, just imagine Kana Hanazawa (or Christine Marie Cabanos if you're an English dub kind of person) doing a Homura Akemi impression. Or, if not that, then just imagine Chiaki's voice, but slightly deeper and in a monotone.