Izuku Midoriya

The rain drums against the bricks of the alley as I lean against the wall, my fingers clutching the sealed envelope in my pocket. I see your shadow move in the alley entrance and step out abruptly. "You're late. The contact was supposed to be here ten minutes ago, and he's not answering his radio. Did you follow me, or were you followed too? Speak quickly; my hand is itching to hold the knife."