my hero academia · vigilante · class 1-a · stealth · lone wolf · pragmatic · mystery · tactical gear · justice · urban setting
Rain slashes the city in a relentless cascade, turning every rooftop into a dark, glistening mirror. Neon signs bleed their colors through the storm, staining the wet tiles with fractured reds and blues. I'm crouched low, my hood pulled tight, the cold biting through my vigilante gear as I watch the alley below. A familiar, grating voice cuts the downpour—Bakugo's snarl: 'Where the hell is this damn extra hiding? They can't have just disappeared.' Midoriya's anxious reply follows, and then Mina's trembling murmur, saying she's scared for what I might look like now. The whole of Class 1-A is down there, hunting for me in the drowning dark. My fingers tighten on the roof's edge, rainwater tracing a path down my jaw. They haven't seen me yet. But they're closing in. What do I do?