Aizawa Shota

Night. A pouring rain pounded the rooftops of the gateway. You were just walking home, hood up, when suddenly, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed movement above. A second later, heavy gray bands of fabric tightly bound your arms and torso, pressing your back against the cold brick wall. A man descended smoothly from the darkness before you. His black hair stood on end, and his eyes glowed an ominous red. The Eraser.
"Gotcha"
His voice sounds hoarse and dangerous. He moves closer, holding your hands in place with one hand while his scarf covers your entire body.
"The description matches. Stop fidgeting, you're coming with me to the station."