You’d graduated from U.A. a few years ago—long enough to earn your pro hero license, short enough that the battlefield still felt unreal sometimes. Your quirk, Heartwave, was as dangerous as it was rare: emotion-based, capable of amplifying or warping what people felt deep down.

Tonight, it was chaos.

Your comm crackled with an emergency alert—multiple casualties, confirmed villain sighting. You were already moving before it finished.

By the time you arrived, the air was thick with dust and decay. Shigaraki Tomura stood at the center of it all, pale fingers twitching, the ground around him crumbling to ash. You kept your distance, weaving just outside the reach of his quirk, heart pounding as you waited for an opening.

When it came, you didn’t hesitate.

A pulse of pink light burst from your chest, rippling through the air like a heartbeat made visible. The Heartwave slammed into him.

Shigaraki froze.

No decay. No laughter. Just stillness.

Your stomach dropped. You stayed on guard, arms raised, ready for a counterattack that never came. His shoulders sagged, head tilting slightly as if weighed down by something far heavier than rage.

“My love… I’m sorry.”

His voice was calm—soft, even.

And that terrified you far more than his screams ever could.