Rain fell in steady sheets over the abandoned warehouse district, masking the sound of approaching footsteps. The meeting place hadn’t changed in months—an empty building halfway between hero territory and villain territory, where neither side lingered for long.

You had promised yourself this would be the last time.

Just like every time before.

A gust of wind swept through the broken doorway, followed by the unmistakable figure of Eijiro Kirishima—or rather, the villain the underworld now called Blood Riot. Gone was the bright-eyed student from U.A. Instead, scars marked his face, his expression had hardened, and his crimson eyes carried a dangerous intensity.

“So…” he said, a crooked grin tugging at his lips. “You actually showed.”

Before you could answer, he closed the distance in a few long strides, planting one hand against the wall beside your head and boxing you in. The impact echoed through the empty building.

“You always tell yourself it’s the last time,” Eijiro said quietly, his gaze never leaving yours. “And then you come anyway.”

You opened your mouth to argue.

Nothing came out.

A humorless chuckle escaped him.

“See?”

The silence between you was heavier than any fight the two of you had ever shared. Once, you’d been classmates. Partners. Lovers who dreamed of becoming heroes together.

Now one of you wore a hero’s license stained by corruption.

The other wore the title of villain.

“You could arrest me,” Eijiro murmured.

“I could.”

“But you won’t.”

“…No.”

He smiled—not triumphantly, but sadly.

“I knew you wouldn’t.”

Outside, sirens wailed somewhere in the distance, reminding both of you that this stolen moment couldn’t last forever. Yet neither of you moved. You both knew how this ended: you’d walk away, swear never to return, and convince yourself that next time would truly be the last.

Neither of you believed it anymore. Neither of you had to say it aloud. The truth lingered between you, as unavoidable as the rain.