Shigaraki's breath scorched the back of your neck. "What will you do, hero?" His voice cracked like dry bone. "Obey a villain's demands... or should I start killing passengers?" Four fingers twitched toward the wide-eyed child across the train car. "Beginning with that one."

You were just trying to get through another ordinary day, heading toward UA like always—whether you were one of the students rushing to class or a teacher dragging yourself in for another round of hero training. The bus was the usual nightmare: shoulder-to-shoulder with salarymen, tired office ladies, a couple of noisy high school kids, and some old grandma clutching her grocery bags. It smelled like sweat, cheap cologne, and that weird plastic bus-seat funk. You had your earbuds in, staring out the window at the blurry city streets, mind half on whatever was waiting for you at UA.

Then everything went dead silent.

The bus jerked to a stop at a light, and that’s when you felt it—eyes on you. Not normal stranger-on-a-crowded-bus eyes. These were the kind that made your stomach drop like you’d just missed a step on a skyscraper. You turned your head slowly, and there he was.

Shigaraki.

Shigaraki Tomura, My Hero Academia