The room felt colder now.
Reiji's eyes remained fixed on the cloaked figure. Beneath the shadows of the hood, he couldn't make out the face—just the faint glint of eyes watching him closely, like a predator studying its prey. Each of the figure's movements sent ripples through the oppressive air, like a presence that didn't belong in a school meant to raise heroes. The floor itself seemed to groan beneath the weight of something unspoken.
"You've felt it, haven't you?" the figure continued, stepping slowly to the side. "That spark within you. The Raiden force that courses through your veins. That isn't something a place like U.A. can understand, let alone nurture."
Reiji's jaw tightened. His hands curled slightly at his sides, and a dull static flickered beneath the surface of his gloves. "You don't know anything about me."
A low chuckle echoed through the sparse room. "I know everything. Your awakening wasn't an accident. Power like yours—true power—always brings attention."
He took another step forward, each movement deliberate. "U.A. will never accept you. They'll label you unstable, a threat. They'll fear you. You've already felt it, haven't you? The way they look at you now. The silence after the matches. The distance."
The words hit harder than Reiji expected. Doubts that had already begun to fester twisted in his chest. He thought of Aizawa's wary eyes, of the whispers that followed his matches, of Midoriya's quiet suspicion.
Reiji said nothing, but his fists clenched tighter. Inside his mind, the system remained silent—no battle prompts, no tactical scans, no advice.
[Warning: Shadow Origin proximity detected. Remain in control.]
The figure stopped just out of reach. "Join us. Step into your true potential. Leave behind the mask they've forced you to wear."
Reiji's stance shifted subtly, weight adjusting. His eyes never left the cloak. Close enough.
"I've heard enough," he said flatly.
The air exploded.
A bolt of crackling lightning erupted from Reiji's palm, shattering the hanging bulb overhead. Sparks cascaded, and the room plunged into momentary darkness, the air buzzing violently with energy. Dust lifted from the floor, swirling in the sudden burst. The static made his skin tingle, and the acrid scent of scorched wires stung his nose.
The figure didn't move—only raised an arm to shield their face from the blast. But Reiji was already gone.
He bolted from the room, boots slamming against the tile, his breath ragged as he raced down the empty hallway. Panic surged beneath his skin. The door behind him didn't slam shut. No alarms. No footsteps chasing him.
Just silence. Deep, eerie silence that seemed to follow.
Back at the dorms, the evening buzz had died down. Students lounged in the common room, some already heading off to bed. Soft music played from someone's phone. Laughter drifted from a corner where Shoji and Ojiro were playing a casual board game.
Reiji slipped inside unnoticed and made a direct line for his room. His movements were sharp, rigid. He passed Kaminari and Kirishima playing cards at the kitchen table, but didn't even glance their way.
"Yo, Reiji!" Kaminari called, holding up a card. "How'd the meeting go?"
Reiji didn't stop. "Fine," he muttered, already at the stairs before anyone could press him. His voice sounded clipped even to his own ears, but he kept moving.
Inside his room, he closed the door and leaned against it, breathing hard. His heart was still racing, the image of the Liberation insignia burned into his mind.
[Unknown affiliation encountered. Tracking disengaged. Remain vigilant.]
He slid down to the floor, pulling off his gloves. The marks of the lightning pulse still lingered on his palms—faint, threadlike burns spidering across his skin. Faint tremors buzzed along his fingers, not from fatigue but adrenaline. He could still hear the figure's voice ringing in his ears.
He stared at his hands. "I didn't even hesitate…"
His voice was barely a whisper. Part of him was horrified. Part of him wasn't surprised.
The figure's words lingered like smoke. "You were never meant to blend in."
Were they right?
A knock on the door broke his thoughts. He tensed. But it was soft. Hesitant.
He didn't answer. The knock didn't come again.
Somewhere outside, Midoriya stood in the stairwell, unseen, watching the closed door. He'd noticed Reiji's rushed entry. The lack of eye contact. The silence. The tremor in his step.
"He didn't eat," Midoriya murmured to himself. He glanced toward the untouched dinner tray on the side table by the hallway.
He looked down at his notebook. On the last page was Reiji's name, circled now with a question mark. Beneath it, a single note: Power spike unexplained. Surveillance necessary.
He tapped his pen against the page thoughtfully.
The next morning, Reiji was up early.
[System Notification: Proceed to Principal Nezu's Office – 9:00 AM]
A physical message soon followed—Aizawa had sent it through the official U.A. network, simple and brief. No additional remarks, no details.
Reiji dressed in silence. He didn't bother with breakfast. The unease from last night hadn't faded. If anything, it had burrowed deeper, like a shadow he couldn't shake. He walked past the cafeteria, where trays clinked and students chatted, but he didn't stop. His stomach growled once, but he ignored it.
The hallways of the dorm were quiet as he left, and even the chill morning breeze brushing across his skin couldn't clear his mind. Every step toward the main building felt heavier than the last.
He arrived at the main building five minutes early. The corridor leading to Nezu's office felt unnaturally quiet. Even the usual hum of security cameras and monitors felt distant. Like the building itself was holding its breath.
As he entered, he spotted not only Principal Nezu behind his oversized desk, but Aizawa and Recovery Girl standing nearby, their expressions unreadable.
"Good morning, Reiji," Nezu said cheerfully, sipping from a porcelain teacup. "Thank you for being punctual."
Reiji bowed lightly. "You asked for me, sir?"
Nezu set the cup down gently. The clink of porcelain echoed.
"There are things even U.A. cannot overlook," he said, his voice still polite—but heavier now, layered with intent.
Reiji felt a knot form in his stomach.
"We've had… an irregular report concerning your assigned agency," Nezu continued. "One that warrants clarification."
Reiji said nothing. His throat felt dry.
Aizawa's arms were folded. Recovery Girl remained silent, watching him closely.
Nezu leaned forward, paws laced together. His gaze was calm, but piercing.
"Tell me, Reiji—do you believe in coincidences?"
To be continued.
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