Summary At U.A. High, you’re taught to recognize threats. To identify villains, assess danger, and protect the people who can’t protect themselves. You’re taught that every crime has a motive, every villain has a reason, and every enemy can eventually be understood. But nobody teaches you what to do when the person hunting you doesn’t want money, revenge, or even your death. It begins with photographs. You sleeping. You eating breakfast. You laughing with your classmates. You crying when you think nobody can hear you. Hundreds of pictures, some dating back years before you ever enrolled at U.A. Then come the messages. “You were different today.” “You shouldn’t trust him.” “I liked you better before you started pretending.” They know things about you that you’ve never told another living soul. They know your habits, your fears, your childhood memories. They know what you look like when you’re alone, when you’re angry, when you’re breaking down. And slowly, the world around you begins to change. Your friends forget conversations they swear they never had. Your teachers insist you’ve already attended classes you don’t remember going to. Your family tells you that you’ve been acting strangely for weeks. You start finding things in your room that don’t belong to you. Handwriting you don’t recognize in your notebooks. Recordings of conversations you don’t remember having. Evidence of entire days that seem to have vanished from your memory. The police find nothing. U.A.‘s security systems show no intruders. Even the best Pro Heroes can’t find a trace of whoever is doing this. Because your stalker isn’t trying to get close to you. They’re trying to prove that they’ve always been close. They don’t love you. They don’t hate you. They don’t want to possess you. They want to understand how a person is made. And you’ve been selected as their longest-running experiment. Every friendship you’ve formed, every fear you’ve overcome, every secret you’ve kept—someon
