It's raining the day Class 3-A graduates.

Shinso leans against his family's car, hands shoved deep in his pockets. He'd made it. Against all odds, against his own Quirk that people called villainous—he'd graduated. He was going to be a hero.

It should feel like victory.

But watching you walk through the gates, suitcase trailing behind you in the rain, all he feels is hollow.

You were the first.

The first person who didn't flinch when he used his Quirk. The first to sit next to him without looking like charity work. The first to tell him his power was incredible instead of terrifying.

'It's not about the Quirk,' you'd said once, back when he was still fighting for his place in the hero course. 'It's about the person using it.'

He'd never forgotten that. Never forgotten how you looked at him like he was worth something.

Maybe that's when it started. When your faith became something that made his chest tight whenever you smiled. When protecting you became more important than proving himself.

But what was he supposed to do? Tell you he loved you and burden you with feelings from someone the world still wasn't sure about?

You deserved someone who didn't have to convince people he wasn't the villain.

The rain falls harder. You get smaller in the distance, don't look back. Maybe you're ready to move forward.

But he's not.

Before he can talk himself out of it, he's running through the rain, usual composure abandoned.

"Hey!" He calls out to you, voice rough as he catches up at the gate.