Musutafu looked peaceful that night, but Hikaru Amano knew better.
Peace was a surface thing — thin, fragile, easy to break.
He moved through the alley shadows like smoke, eyes dull, steps silent. The world above rarely saw him anymore, but he watched it constantly. Watching was safe. Watching kept him hidden.
"Hungry," the shadows whispered inside his skull.
"You waited too long."
"You always wait too long."
"Shut up," Hikaru muttered.
He scanned the street. Late night. Cold air. He kept to the walls, hood low, shadows rippling faintly around his legs. He just needed food. In, out, back underground. No one would notice.
But then—
A muffled scream cut through the night.
Hikaru's head snapped up instantly.
Another cry. Young. Desperate.
His pulse slammed against his ribs.
"What now?" he breathed.
He turned the corner and froze.
A van.
Two men.
A girl — her mouth covered, wrists grabbed, kicking wildly.
Momo Yaoyorozu.
Hikaru recognized her instantly. He'd seen her once, long before the tunnels swallowed him. A hopeful kid. Wealthy. Smart. Everything he wasn't allowed to be anymore.
She was terrified.
"Good," the shadows whispered.
"Fear makes her strong."
"Fear makes us strong."
"Be quiet," Hikaru hissed.
The kidnappers shoved her toward the van.
"No— let go!" Momo cried, voice cracking.
One man snarled, "Just get the brat inside— her quirk'll sell for millions—"
Momo screamed again.
Hikaru moved.
Not because he wanted to.
Not because he thought he should.
Because his legs moved before he could even think.
Some instinct — old, wounded, stubborn — pushed him forward.
The shadows surged happily.
"Yes… yes… let us kill."
"Don't," Hikaru whispered through clenched teeth. "Don't do anything. Don't take over."
But they already writhed around his hands like black flame.
The men felt the shift in the air.
"W—what the hell—?"
Hikaru stepped out of the alley darkness.
Thin. Pale. Eyes glowing faint silver.
Momo's breath hitched.
The shadows crawled along his back like living smoke.
"Let her go," Hikaru said, voice flat, haunted.
One kidnapper laughed shakily. "You're just some damn street rat— get lost—"
The shadow behind Hikaru sharpened.
It lengthened.
Twisted.
Became a blade.
Hikaru didn't even blink.
"Move."
The man lunged toward him—
—and the shadow struck.
A scream tore through the street as the shadow-blade sliced down the kidnapper's arm, ripping flesh. Blood splattered the pavement. The man collapsed, shrieking, clutching the wound.
The second kidnapper panicked, drawing a knife.
He didn't even get close.
The shadows rose like serpents, wrapped around his throat, and slammed him into the van hard enough to dent the metal. He choked, clawing at nothing, until Hikaru whispered:
"Stop."
The shadows obeyed — reluctantly.
Momo stared, trembling so violently she nearly collapsed.
Hikaru stepped toward her, shadows retracting in slow, uneasy tendrils.
"Are you hurt?"
Momo shook her head, breath hitching. "I—I'm okay. You… you saved me."
The shadows whispered:
"She is afraid."
"She sees what you really are."
"Show her more."
"Shut up," Hikaru whispered.
Momo gasped softly. "W— who are you talking to?"
Hikaru froze.
His breath caught.
The shadows behind him pulsed, amused.
"Tell her," they hissed.
"Tell her about us."
"No."
He forced himself to look away.
"No one," he said abruptly. "I wasn't talking to anyone. Just… talking to myself."
Momo didn't believe it — not fully. But she was too shaken to press.
She took a hesitant step closer.
"Hikaru… why are your eyes—"
Her words died in her throat.
Because for a split second, when she met his gaze, she didn't see Hikaru.
She saw her worst fear.
The shadows silently projected it — a twisting, horrible echo of her deepest terror — and Momo stumbled backward, hand flying to her mouth.
"N—no… that's—how—"
Hikaru flinched, grabbing the sides of his head.
"I didn't mean to— I can't control—"
The shadows laughed softly.
"Let her see."
"Let her learn."
"Let her fear."
"Stop it!" Hikaru snapped.
Momo jumped at the sudden sharpness in his voice.
He backed away, panting lightly.
"You should run home," he said. "Heroes are coming."
She tried to speak— to ask something, anything— but Hikaru turned.
The shadows swallowed him whole, pulling him back into the alley like liquid night.
He vanished.
Momo stood there shaking.
Breathing.
Alive.
Hours Later — The Yaoyorozu Estate
Her parents rushed to her the second she stepped inside.
Heroes filled the room — Aizawa, Midnight, Best Jeanist, and even Detective Tsukauchi.
"Momo, sweetheart— what happened?" her mother cried.
Momo swallowed.
"A boy saved me."
The room fell silent.
Aizawa stepped forward.
"What boy?"
She hesitated.
"Hikaru. Amano Hikaru."
The temperature seemed to drop.
Detective Tsukauchi opened a folder immediately — containing the crime scene photos.
Unblurred.
Horrific.
A pro hero muttered, "Look at what this kid did to his parents—"
The photo was displayed.
Momo's blood turned to ice.
She covered her mouth, trembling. "He… he did that…?"
Her father looked horrified.
Her mother whispered, "This is the boy who saved you?"
Momo nodded shakily. "Yes. But— he wasn't trying to hurt me. He was fighting something. Something I couldn't see."
Aizawa's eyes narrowed. "Explain."
"He kept talking to… nothing," Momo whispered. "Arguing with empty air. He insisted he was talking to himself but— it didn't feel like that."
Midnight leaned forward. "Did he threaten you?"
"No," Momo said immediately. "He warned me to run before the heroes came."
The room went silent again.
Detective Tsukauchi finally spoke:
"So the Shadow Fugitive reappeared… and saved you."
Momo nodded slowly.
"And…" she whispered, voice shaking, "when I looked into his eyes… I saw something. Something terrifying. Something that felt like my worst fear staring back at me."
Her mother grabbed her hand protectively.
Aizawa exhaled in a long, troubled breath.
"This is getting worse."
Midnight crossed her arms.
"So the monster isn't a monster… but he's still dangerous."
Momo looked at all of them, voice trembling but certain.
"He's dangerous… because he's scared.
Not because he wants to be."
The heroes exchanged grim looks.
Because somewhere under Musutafu, Hikaru curled in darkness, gripping his head as the shadows whispered:
"She saw you."
"She feared you."
"She will tell them."
"Now they will come for you again."
Hikaru clenched his teeth.
"I know," he whispered. "I know."
The shadows smiled in his skull.
"Good."
"Let them come."
"Let them fear you too."
And Hikaru shook—
Not from weakness.
Not from panic.
But because he knew his quirk was getting stronger.
Stronger than him.