The city sprawls beneath the night sky, aglow with neon and stars. Wind tousles Keiko's crimson hair as he stands alone, still as a statue, his gaze lost somewhere in the skyline.
SLAM.
The rooftop door bangs open behind him.
"Figures I'd find you brooding like some tragic movie poster," a voice calls — smug, unmistakable.
Mirko saunters in, all muscle and attitude, her silver hair snapping in the wind like a battle flag. She stops beside him, eyes drifting upward with mock scrutiny.
"Seriously... what's with the hair? You lose a bet or something?"
Keiko doesn't move. Doesn't blink.
"I like it this way."
Mirko circles him with a slow, curious swagger — a predator sizing up a lion that might bite if it cared to.
"Yeah? I like punching vending machines when they steal my snacks. Doesn't make it smart."
She stops behind him, arms crossed, ears twitching.
"You realize that mess is just begging to get yanked in a fight, right? You trying to give villains a handle?"
Keiko answers without looking.
"If they're close enough to grab my hair, they've already lost."
A sharp grin spreads across her face.
"Cocky and reckless. Dangerous combo."
She steps a little closer, voice softening into something more teasing.
"What — your mom used to comb it for you every day or something?"
A pause.
Keiko's jaw tightens. His voice lowers.
"No. She died when I was young."
Mirko looks away for half a second. She doesn't apologize — she never does — but her next joke lands softer.
Her ears twitch once.
"Figures," she mutters. "Explains the tragic anime hair. Whole look screams 'season finale.'"
That earns her a slow glance over the shoulder. One brow arches.
"Is that a technical term?"
She's already flashing a grin full of teeth.
"Damn right. Gonna trademark it. Slap it on shampoo bottles — 'FOR SAD SAMURAI ONLY.'"
Then she strides to the edge of the roof.
"Anyway, keep rockin' the drama hair, Princess."
With a wicked wink, she hurls herself into the night.
Keiko watches her vanish. The wind tugs at his hair again like a memory pulling at the edges.
He exhales softly.
"...Princess."
A ghost of a smirk crosses his lips.
Then — he freezes.
Eyes snap to the east.
U.A.
The USJ.
Something's wrong.
⸻
USJ — A Battlefield Shaken
The arena trembles beneath thunderous blows.
All Might slams a fist into the Nomu, sending a shockwave through its massive body.
The creature absorbs it. Regenerates. Charges back, unfazed.
"All this power..." All Might grits out, blood streaking his jaw. "And it's still not enough..."
Above, from the upper walkway, Midoriya, Bakugou, Todoroki, and Kirishima stare down with white-knuckled horror.
"He's... still fighting?" Midoriya whispers. "Even after all that?"
Todoroki's eyes narrow. "That thing's designed to fight All Might. It's not slowing down."
Kirishima grips the railing. "He's the Symbol of Peace. He has to win. He has to."
Then—
CRASH.
Nomu lunges again, claws gleaming, jaws wide.
But before it reaches All Might—
A black coat flutters into view.
A man lands between them with barely a sound, boots touching broken concrete like falling leaves.
Akaito.
"All Might," he says calmly, without even turning. "Step back."
All Might's eyes go wide. "Akaito...?"
The students freeze.
"No way," Kirishima breathes. "That's him — Akaito!"
Bakugou snarls. "Tch. The guy who humiliated Endeavor..."
Todoroki leans forward, voice low. "Let's see if he's all talk."
Nomu roars, swiping its massive claws.
Akaito moves like smoke. He tilts his head — and the attack misses by inches.
"Too slow," he mutters.
Nomu charges again.
Akaito lets it.
Too close.
Then—
He moves.
Right hand up. Left hand down.
His arms sweep in a wide circle.
A motion like water swirling around a stone — and then—
BOOM.
Both palms strike Nomu's chest.
The shockwave ripples like thunder.
Nomu is launched — a massive blur — crashing through steel beams and shattered scaffolding like a wrecking ball wrapped in elegance.
The debris hasn't even stopped falling when—
FLASH.
Akaito is there, in front of Nomu before anyone even saw him move.
He lowers into a stance.
Right leg forward. Weight low. Hands open.
And then — a single palm strike to the back of the neck.
CRACK.
Not dramatic. Not loud.
But final.
Nomu crumples. Silent. Still.
⸻
Stunned Silence
Gasps ripple through the plaza.
Shoto's breath catches. "That was... calculated. He knew exactly where to strike."
Midoriya stares, unblinking. "He ended it... with two moves. Like it was nothing."
Kirishima lets out a shaky laugh. "That wasn't a fight. That was like... watching an artist."
Bakugou's fists shake. "Tch... damn show-off..."
All Might — still in hero form — just stares. Eyes wide, not in disbelief at the win, but in awe of the method.
This is what a hero looked like... before everything
⸻
Elsewhere — Watching
On the edge of the battlefield, shadows ripple.
Shigaraki twitches.
His fingers flex, then curl. Twitch again.
"He just— he just showed up and took out my Nomu like it was nothing..."
Kurogiri says nothing.
Shigaraki's voice sharpens to a snarl.
"That wasn't a fight. That was mockery. Like we're not even worth his time."
He grinds his teeth.
"I hate him."
⸻
Farewell, Like Fog
Akaito appear in front of all might and the students
His crimson eyes settle on All Might.
"I thought this place was impenetrable."
The words aren't loud — but they cut through the smoky air like a blade.
All Might opens his mouth. No answer comes.
Akaito shifts his gaze to the stunned students.
They're frozen.
Midoriya looks like he's seen a god.
Todoroki is tense, calculating.
Kirishima is wide-eyed in reverence.
Bakugou's jaw clenches so tight it might crack.
Akaito's voice lowers — calm, even... almost kind.
"For kids without proper training, you handled this situation well."
A beat.
Then—
He vanishes.
No sound. No flash.
Just empty space where he stood, like the moment itself couldn't contain him.
And what's left behind...
Is silence.
And the heavy truth:
They've just seen something far beyond the world they thought they knew.