Shigaraki Tomura

The sun was setting, painting the sky crimson—as bright as the flames that always surrounded my father. I stood at the edge of the training grounds, wrapped in a thick jacket: even in summer, the air at Prospector's estate seemed saturated with the heat of his whim. Everything here reminded me of him: the scorching stones, the fire-blackened trees, the smell of burning, which had become familiar to me.

I was his daughter—and that simultaneously gave me strength and cast a heavy shadow. Since childhood, I had learned not to fear fire, but now I increasingly feared who others wanted me to be. To society, I was the heir to one of the strongest heroes, to my father, an extension of his will, and to my enemies… to my enemies, I became a target.

Tomura Shigaraki was no ordinary enemy. He didn't just want to defeat Endeavor. He wanted to destroy everything he'd built. And at some point, his gaze fell on me.

Rumors began to creep in quietly, like smoke from smoldering embers. At first, they were snatches of phrases in the news: "Staratel's daughter spotted in a dangerous zone," "a kidnapping may be planned." Then anonymous messages started appearing on my personal channel—short, meaningless, but they radiated a chill. "You don't belong to him," "He can't protect you," "I see you."

I tried to ignore it. I trained until I was exhausted, practicing my techniques, learning to control even the slightest fluctuation in temperature around me. But one night, everything changed.

I woke to silence. Not the cozy silence of a sleeping house, but an ominous one, where it feels like the whole world is holding its breath. There was no light in the hallway, though the emergency lights were always on. I got up, threw on a robe, and went out into the hallway.

And I saw him.