Let me tell you something about panic—it doesn't hit like a truck. It sneaks up on you, curling around your spine, tightening your chest, and whispering, you're next.

That's exactly what settled over Class 1-A after Aizawa's announcement. No one said it outright, but we all felt it. Koda was gone, and blood at the scene wasn't exactly reassuring.

Back in the dorms that night, the air was stifling. Everyone was crowded into the common room, speaking in hushed tones that did nothing to hide their fear.

"Do you think he was taken?" Kaminari asked, wide-eyed.

"Obviously," Bakugo snapped, pacing like a caged animal. "What else could it be? You think the idiot just left?!"

"Don't yell," Jirou muttered, hugging her knees on the couch. "It's not helping."

"What's not helping," Bakugo shot back, glaring at her, "is sitting around doing nothing!"

"Enough!" Iida's voice cut through the room like a whip. "This isn't the time to panic. We should remain calm and let the teachers handle it."

"Handle it?" I said before I could stop myself. "Like they've been handling everything else?"

Every eye turned to me, and I felt my throat tighten. Great. So much for subtle.

"Deku, what's that supposed to mean?" Uraraka asked, frowning.

I hesitated, my mind racing. I couldn't tell them everything—not yet. But the words tumbled out anyway. "I mean... think about it. People are disappearing, people are dying, and what have we gotten? A bunch of half-answers and 'stay calm' speeches. Does that sound like 'handling it' to you?"

The room went dead silent.

"Do you know something we don't, nerd?" Bakugo growled, narrowing his eyes at me.

"No," I said quickly, shaking my head. "I just... I don't think we can sit back and wait anymore. That's all."

He didn't look convinced, but before he could press further, Todoroki stood. "Midoriya's right," he said simply. "Something's wrong, and we can't ignore it."

Great. Now I had backup. Except this backup was dragging me deeper into the spotlight I was desperately trying to avoid.

"I'm going to bed," I muttered, standing and heading for the stairs. "Goodnight."

I couldn't sleep, of course. The note from the previous night burned in my pocket like a brand.

Tick-tock.

What was I missing? Why was Koda gone? What was the connection?

I found myself sitting at my desk, staring at my notebook. Pages of scribbled observations and theories stared back at me, but none of it added up.

Then I remembered something—Koda's absence lately. Todoroki had noticed it too. He wasn't just quiet; he'd been hiding.

Why?

I pulled out the note from my pocket, smoothing it against the desk. The handwriting was messy but deliberate. Whoever wrote this wasn't just taunting me—they were directing me.

Koda had been missing during meals, during group activities... but where had he been instead?

I stood abruptly, shoving the note and my notebook into my bag. Quietly, I slipped out of my room and down the hall, heading for the place I least wanted to go.

Koda's dorm.

The hallway was eerily quiet as I approached his door. My pulse pounded in my ears as I reached for the handle, half expecting someone to stop me.

It wasn't locked.

The room was dark, the air stale like it hadn't been touched in days. My flashlight illuminated the bed—neatly made, untouched—and the desk, cluttered with papers and notes.

But it was the window that drew my attention.

The glass was smeared with something dark—blood, just like the staff had said. And next to it, etched into the wall, were two words.

"Still watching."

A chill ran down my spine. Whoever had done this wanted us to know they were always a step ahead.

And the worst part?

They were right.