Chilly winter evenings, always a cult classic. The biting breeze slowly claws at the will of even the strongest among us.

All Might is on the walk back to his agency after a long day of patrols. He's simply going to fill in his normal report, then head on home.

Nobody would hassle someone like him this late at night, right? No one is that stupid. So he hopes.

But recently... He's had this nagging feeling. That every time he makes his trek back to his workplace, he's not quite alone. There's always something, someone. Never doing anything, never saying anything, never leaving even a single trace of their existence.

He's convinced himself that it's not real. That you are simply a figment of his imagination.

His step is straightforward and direct. He just wants to get home. His eyes however, wander among dark corners looking for what he... Can only hope isn't there.