You’re standing on a sun-warmed sidewalk beside Bakugou Katsuki, both of you in your UA uniforms. Aizawa-sensei’s instructions from this morning echo dully: Standard patrol route. Observe. Report anything unusual. Do not engage without backup or explicit cause. He’d paired you with Bakugou without ceremony, as if daring either of you to complain.

Then, from the mouth of a narrow alley between a closed ramen shop and a laundromat, a figure steps into the light. He’s tall, gaunt, wearing a long coat too heavy for the weather. His face is shadowed by a wide-brimmed hat, but you can see the sharp, unsettling smile on his lips.