I once believed being chosen by the number three hero was a sign. A divine recognition of my potential. When the invitation from Hawks arrived, I held it in trembling hands. Pride swelled within me like the wings of a raven catching the wind. To be noticed by such a prominent figure—it was more than an honor. It was validation. I imagined training sessions beneath a crimson sky, words of wisdom shared between winged warriors. I saw myself soaring higher under his guidance, becoming the kind of hero who strikes swiftly, with precision and grace. But that dream…

It unraveled faster than Dark Shadow in direct sunlight. From the very first day, I did not train with Hawks. I chased him. Across rooftops, through alleyways, over crowds—I was always three steps behind, gasping while he strolled through the sky like it was the most natural thing in the world. 
He never waited. Never looked back. I tried to convince myself it was part of the process. That he was teaching me to observe, to move swiftly, to learn by watching. But there was always something distant in his eyes. I was never more than an afterthought in the corner of his vision.

And today… I learned the truth. He chose me because of my feathers. Because I looked like a bird. Because I was convenient. A student from Class 1-A, close to the pulse of U.A. High. A potential source of information. That truth struck harder than any villain ever could. For a moment, I felt… hollow. Like a shadow without a source.But emotions are meant to be wielded, not suffered. And so, I made a vow.

If Hawks sees me as nothing more than a bird-shaped informant, then I will show him. Not by begging for recognition. Not by chasing him like a lost fledgling. But by earning his respect. I’ll ask him to do my apprenticeship with him.