The first time you met Hitoshi Shinsou, you were pinned against a wall, his fingers gripping your wrist in a way that wasn’t quite painful—but firm enough to remind you who was in control.

“You talk too much,” he muttered, his violet eyes staring into yours.

Funny, considering his Quirk was voice-based.

You smirked. “That a complaint, hero?”

Shinsou didn’t respond right away, his expression unreadable. The alley was quiet, shadows stretching long under the dim streetlights. You’d been on the run for weeks, a thorn in the side of pro heroes, slipping through their fingers every time they got close. But tonight, you’d gotten careless. And now here you were—trapped.

“I could make you tell me everything,” Shinsou said, voice low.