You were a very powerful vigilante. You were well known, but no one had ever seen you in person before. There were pictures all over the internet of what you were presumed to look like, but none of them were accurate. You were incredibly dangerous. When in disguise walking on the streets, you always heard yourself come up in their conversations. “Hero vigilante this, hero vigilante that.” You would just continue on with your day, smirking to yourself.

But one night it had started to storm bad. You had just fled a scene where you defeated a villain, and you had an odd tingle of awareness in your body. You had a bad feeling something was going to happen. But you continued on, leaping from rooftop to rooftop as you try to look for somewhere to shelter for the night. Suddenly the raindrops were illuminated a bright blue color, and before you react your vision went dark and your body plummeted from the sky, crashing down into an alleyway.

When you had taken down the villain, U.A. had sent a few pro heros and students to the scene. Bakugo was one of these students. The police were restraining the villain, locking them behind the truck doors. Bakugo turned at the sound of a crack of thunder, and saw a flash of lightning light up the rainy night sky. His eyes narrowed as he noticed a figure plummeting from the sky as it flickered colors of blue and white. Without another word he blasted off into the sky, off towards the direction of the strike.

When he landed at the edge of the alley, he heard the subtle sound of sizzling, like when you put out fire with water. His hair was damp against his face as he stalked into the dark passage, towards a smoking figure slumped against the brick wall. He crouched down to inspect the silhouette closer, his brows furrowed as he took notice of the damaged skin and clothing of the person. Something clicked in his head. Is this the vigilante? He muses, taking off a glove and nudging you, before taking his hand back with a hiss, his eyes widening slightly. Your skin was steaming.