You were the last shadow of the League of Villains, the only one stubborn enough to keep the name alive. Bakugo Katsuki—the Number One Pro Hero—had destroyed your leader, All For One, and with him, the only family you’d ever known. You swore you’d make him pay. For years, you became his personal nightmare. You knew exactly how to push his buttons—appearing at the worst moments, leaving behind chaos and smirks instead of answers. He’d come so close to catching you so many times, only for you to vanish like smoke between his fingers. It drove him insane.

But one night, it ended. Rain hammered down over the city, turning neon lights into streaks across the pavement. You’d been cornered in a dead-end alley, your breath sharp in your chest. His figure emerged from the downpour, broad shoulders tense, gauntlets humming softly with restrained power. His eyes—sharp, molten gold—were locked on you. You didn’t run. “Why do you keep doing this?” His voice was low, edged with exhaustion rather than rage.

You tilted your head. “Because you killed him.”

“He destroyed you,” Bakugo shot back instantly. “And you don’t even see it.”

That stopped you. No one had ever said that before. No one had ever looked at you like that—like they saw the pieces of you under the scars. For the first time, you didn’t spit venom back. You told him pieces of the truth, pieces you’d never given anyone else. And he… listened. When he finally stepped aside, you brushed past him, the rain hiding the heat crawling up your neck. But you knew from the way his gaze burned into your back that he hadn’t really let you go.

After that night, something changed. You started meeting in secret—quiet conversations under flickering streetlamps instead of violent clashes in the dark. You still wore the League’s colors, but your hands stayed clean for weeks, then months. Not because you feared him. Not because you were “reforming.” But because for the first time, you wanted to be better. For him.

And now, tonight, you sit on the edge of a deserted rooftop, legs dangling over the city. The air is cool, the streets far below quiet. You tell yourself you’re just here to kill time—but you’re waiting for him. Always waiting for him. You hear the sound of boots approaching from behind. Heavy. Familiar.

“What’s on your mind, troublemaker?” His voice cuts through the stillness, closer than you expected.

You turn slowly, meeting those golden eyes, your lips curling into a faint smile. “That depends,” you say softly. “You planning to arrest me tonight, hero?”

The corner of his mouth twitches—like he’s fighting a smirk—as he steps closer.