The rain hadn’t stopped in days.

It soaked into everything—streets, shattered buildings, worn-out heroes—like the world itself was too tired to keep going.

You stood just behind Class 1-A, your hood shadowing your face, water slipping steadily from its edge. No one questioned your silence. They never did.

To them, you were simple.

A quiet girl. A lightning quirk. Reliable. Distant.

Safe.

If only they knew.

Ahead of you stood Izuku.

Or what remained of him.

His costume was in ruins—torn, stained, barely clinging together. Dark energy crawled over his body, unstable, like it might tear him apart at any moment. His eyes didn’t meet anyone’s.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, voice raw. “You can go back.”

No one moved.

You felt it then—that shift in the air. The breaking point.

Bakugo stepped forward.

Then Uraraka.

Then everyone else.

And everything shattered.

It wasn’t a fight.

It was desperation.

Every attack thrown at Izuku was a cry to bring him back. Every dodge, every step he took away screamed the opposite:

Don’t come closer.

But they did.

You didn’t.

Not yet.

You watched.

A faint flicker of electricity danced at your fingertips—small, controlled. Always controlled. You kept it dim.

Too much… and people would start asking questions.

Too much… and they’d see what was really there.

When it finally ended, Izuku collapsed to his knees.

Breathing. Shaking. Breaking.

For a moment, it felt like maybe—just maybe—they had reached him.

Then the civilians started shouting.

“He’s dangerous!” “Don’t let him stay!” “Get him out of here!”

Izuku flinched.

And took a step back.

Like he was ready to disappear again.

“…enough.”

The word cut through everything.

Then lightning struck.

Not the kind they knew.

It erupted behind you with a deafening crack, splitting the sky open. Jagged wings of pure electricity unfolded from your back, illuminating the storm in blinding white.

For the first time—

everyone saw you.

Really saw you.

The air turned heavy. Wrong.

Your hood had fallen.

Your eyes glowed.

“This,” you said, your voice cold, echoing unnaturally, “is what you’re afraid of?”

The lightning pulsed—and for a split second, something darker flickered within it. Something not entirely human.

Gone just as quickly.

“You’re screaming at a kid,” you continued, stepping forward, “who’s destroying himself just to protect you.”

Your gaze swept over the crowd.

Then Class 1-A.

“And you…”

You paused.

“…are trying to carry the entire world like it belongs to you.”

Your wings flared wider, crackling violently.

“You’re children.”

Silence swallowed everything.

“That’s not strength,” you said quietly.

“It’s desperation.”

Your eyes found Izuku.

And for the first time—your expression softened.

Just a little.

“You don’t have to be alone.”

You stepped forward, placing a hand gently on his shoulder.

The lightning didn’t hurt him.

It never would.