The rooftop was empty.
Gray concrete stretched beneath Shadow's boots. The sun had dipped low, just enough to throw the city into quiet shapes. This high up, sound faded. No horns. No shouting. Just wind. And the low pulse of quiet thoughts bleeding through the cracks.
He waited.
Across the rooftop, Hitoshi Shinso sat near a utility fan, half-shadowed by a rusted pipe. He had not spoken since Shadow arrived.
Shadow liked that.
No bluster. No questions. Just silence.
He walked closer.
Shinso did not flinch.
That was a point in his favor.
"You are wasting your time at the academy," Shadow said.
Shinso's fingers curled slightly around the water bottle resting beside him. Not a threat. Just movement.
"Good evening to you too," he said flatly.
"I am not here to threaten you."
"I know."
"You are used to people assuming the worst."
Shinso finally looked up. His hair was tousled by the wind, face unreadable except for the tired weight in his eyes.
"You a fan of my quirk?" he asked. "Want to borrow it? Break it? Seal it away just to be safe?"
"No," Shadow replied. "I want to offer you something."
Shinso huffed. "You people always show up with that line."
Shadow said nothing. Just waited.
Shinso stood.
"You're not from the Hero Course," he said.
"No."
"You're not from General Studies either."
"No."
"You move like a shadow and you wear black gloves in June."
"Yes."
"So who are you, really?"
"I am part of something that sees value where the world does not," Shadow said. "I was sent to find you. Not because you are dangerous. Because you are discarded."
Shinso flinched.
Not visibly. Not loudly. But Shadow saw the hitch in his stance. The way his hands tensed.
"You think that will win me over?" Shinso asked.
"I think it already has."
The wind caught the silence.
For a long minute, Shinso did not speak.
Then, carefully, "And what is this something? What do you people do?"
Shadow stepped closer. His voice dropped.
"We intervene. Where Pro Heroes fail. Where villains twist the system. We do not chase the spotlight. We operate in places the news does not reach."
Shinso's jaw worked slightly. "So, vigilantes."
"Not quite."
"Then what?"
Shadow tilted his head.
"We are a coil."
Shinso raised a brow. "That's not an answer."
"It is. You just do not understand it yet."
Shinso crossed his arms. "So let me guess. You want me to use my quirk. Whisper into some ears. Break a few people. Scare some officials. Make some enemies talk. Make some friends shut up."
"No."
Shinso blinked.
"No?"
"We want you to use your voice. But not the way the world expects."
"That's vague."
"You think your quirk makes you dangerous. That is why you speak quietly. Why you train alone. Why you hesitate."
Shinso said nothing.
"You do not fear the consequences," Shadow continued. "You fear becoming what they say you are."
A gust of wind passed between them.
Shinso finally spoke.
"Why me?"
"Because you are already doing the hard part."
"Which is?"
"Living without applause."
Shinso looked away. His eyes followed the skyline. Bright towers. False windows. Lights pretending to be stars.
"I've spent years trying to prove I'm not a villain," he said quietly.
"And how is that going?"
Shinso gave a humorless smile.
Shadow stepped forward again. Close now. Not threatening. Just real.
"We will not make you lie about who you are. We will not cage your voice or ask you to be what you are not. We offer something simple."
Shinso met his gaze.
"And what is that?"
"Choice."
For a moment, the rooftop felt like a different place. Not cold. Not empty. Just quiet enough for something honest to land without echo.
Shinso rubbed the back of his neck.
"If I say yes, what happens next?"
"You meet someone," Shadow said. "A boy with too many secrets and not enough time. He is not like the others. He sees things. People. Potential. He saw you from the first page."
"You're not talking about yourself."
"No."
"Then who?"
"Timothy Rosier."
Shinso blinked.
"Never heard of him."
"That's the point."
Shinso sat back down on the edge of the fan.
"I'm not good with people," he said.
"You are better than you think."
"I do not trust easily."
"Neither do we."
Shinso picked up his bottle. Tossed it. Caught it. Tossed it again.
Then finally, "Alright. I'll listen."
Shadow nodded. "That is all we ask."
He turned.
Paused.
"You should bring gloves. And a suit."
Shinso made a face. "Seriously?"
"Customizable. Within reason."
Shinso chuckled once.
Shadow's voice was already fading into the wind.
"I will take that as a compliment."
…
Later that night, as the rooftops turned to mist and the city breathed in its sleep, Shinso sat alone again.
No Shadow. No crowd. Just him.
His thoughts drifted, like they always did, to what came next.
He had not said yes.
Not out loud.
But something had moved.
And for the first time in a long time, he did not feel like he was chasing someone else's dream.
Maybe it was time to make his own.