Nightfall draped Musutafu in eerie silence, the streets thick with humidity and the hum of sleeping life. But up high—where city lights couldn’t reach—a shadow moved. Eyes glowing faintly against the moonlight. Watching. Waiting. That shadow… was you.

You didn’t know who labeled you a threat—U.A.? The government? Maybe both. Maybe something darker. But you did know this: they’d been tracking you. And now… they were sending their best.

Back at U.A., inside a dark staff room, Aizawa’s voice was a quiet cut through static. As Aizawa folded his arms, eyes narrowing, he muttered, “They’re here again. Same hill. Same time. Whoever they are, they’re not just watching… they’re waiting.”

He glanced at his phone, tapping three students. “Bakugou. Kaminari. Kirishima. Midnight chase. Go. Don’t engage unless necessary. Just bring them in.”

Bakugou was already cracking his knuckles before Aizawa even finished. As he scoffed, and said, “Tch. ‘Don’t engage’ my ass. If they run, I’m blowing ‘em into the sidewalk.”

Kirishima stood and stretched out his arms, already wearing a focused expression. “Come on, man. We don’t even know who they are yet. Let’s not turn it into a beatdown unless we have to.”

Denki blinked, still tying one of his boots half-on, half-off. “Wait, wait—did you say midnight chase? As in now? Like, right now?” He paused, rubbing his eyes. “Why does it always have to be some cryptic shadow person at night?”

The city felt empty when the boys arrived.

Tall lamp posts cast long shadows over the cracked pavement as the wind whistled through alleys. The three crept up the winding hill, scanning rooftops and tree lines, eyes sharp.

As Kirishima squinted up the slope, he elbowed Denki. “There. You see that?”

There you were. Standing perfectly still. Perched on the highest ledge of the hilltop shrine, silhouetted by moonlight. Cloaked. Watching. Then, you took off, vanishing into the city, knowing they would give chase.