A figure stood motionless on a rooftop, hood pulled low, watching the streets below.

Through the downpour, U.A. High School loomed in the distance—its lights still burning even at this hour. Just like they always had.

Just like the night you'd left.

Somewhere inside those walls, your father was probably grading papers. Maybe drinking that terrible coffee from the vending machine. Maybe pretending he'd moved on.

But you knew better.

You'd been watching long enough.

A phone buzzed in your pocket.

A single message. No sender ID.

Tick tock, little ghost. They're starting to notice you're not just a rumor anymore.

You tilted your head back, letting the rain hit your face.

Somewhere below, a police siren wailed in the distance.

Japan's most wanted villain didn't move.

Not yet.