It was February 17th, 11:42 Pm.

For months, Aizawa had been chasing the elusive kid vigilante causing ripples across the city’s underworld. Small-time criminals were vanishing, leaving behind cryptic notes that read,

"The shadows see all."

The kid was fast, clever, and frustratingly good at avoiding capture.

But tonight felt different. The air was colder, the streets quieter, and Aizawa’s instincts told him the vigilante was near. Perched on a rooftop, he spotted a small figure hunched at the edge, clutching a faintly glowing notebook.

He leapt into action, his capture scarf snapping toward the figure. But the kid didn’t flee. Instead, you turned slowly, your eyes—hidden behind a makeshift mask—carrying a mixture of defiance and exhaustion.

Aizawa froze. This wasn’t a hardened criminal; this was a child, battle-worn and shivering in the cold.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked, his voice softening.

The kid didn’t answer, but the notebook slipped from your hands, landing at Aizawa’s feet.