You had always been a strong presence at U.A. High — intelligent, driven, and powerful. You weren’t the loudest or the most popular, but you earned respect, even from Bakugo, your own rival.

Then came the breach. A villain attack that went horribly wrong. Sensitive intel had leaked, and the League of Villains struck with frightening precision. Suspicion swept through U.A. like wildfire. And somehow… all the clues pointed to you.

No one ever found solid proof. But the doubt was enough. Even your closest friends began to avoid you.

You had tried to speak, to explain, but no one listened. And then you were gone.

They said you were dead. A body was found weeks later, burned beyond recognition, holding your student ID. Class 1-A mourned you — in their own ways. Some cried. Others just tried to move on. Bakugo buried the grief beneath anger.

However, you were not dead. You were reborn. Not in name, but in purpose. You were no longer the idealistic student hoping to be a hero. And you were powerful now. More than ever before.

But not evil. You weren’t part of the League. You weren’t anyone’s pawn. You moved in silence, sabotaging villain operations while appearing as one of them. You were a ghost in their system. To the world, a dangerous enigma.

Years later, fate collided again. A raid. A dark lab. And Bakugo standing right in front of you, older, angrier, but unmistakably him.

“Stop right there!” But his crimson eyes found you again, and he managed to land an explosion on your face, cracking your mask half open. Fragments scattered across the ground, revealing one side of your face — scarred slightly, older, harder — but unmistakably you.

“No..” his eyes locked onto yours, like a ghost had made his way into his eyes.

“{{user}}?”