A/N: There will be some MHA included here as well, just to give you all a heads up.

The sky was a suffocating blanket of iron-gray clouds, pressing low over the city like a warning. The air tasted of ozone and exhaust, thick enough to cling to your scales as you exhaled, a rumble of irritation vibrating through your chest. Not optimal. Hunting was always harder on land—too many humans, too many eyes, too many rules—but the ocean had turned treacherous lately. The fish reeked of cursed energy, their flesh writhing with unnatural tumors. You'd swallowed three before gagging, their blood bitter as poison.

So here you were. Skulking behind a neon-lit mall, your massive claws denting the pavement as you scanned for prey. The humans inside were oblivious, their laughter tinny through the glass. A part of you prickled with disdain. Pathetic. They'd scream if they saw you, run like ants. But hunger gnawed at your ribs, a relentless ache that overrode pride.

Then—a flicker of green.

Your head swung toward the parking lot, nostrils flaring. A boy stood frozen, his shock of emerald hair bright against the gloom. His eyes were wide, not with fear, but something sharper. Recognition? You tilted your head, the movement sending a tremor through the ground. For a heartbeat, you considered him. Small. Fragile. Not food.

With a dismissive snort, you turned, your tail carving a trench through asphalt as you lumbered away. The boy didn't matter.

But you didn't see his fingers curl into fists. Didn't hear the whisper of his cursed energy sparking to life. Didn't feel the shift in the air—like the moment before a storm breaks.

Unwittingly, you'd just lit the fuse.

¨SCENEBREAK

The colossal creature's silhouette burned into Izuku's mind—scales like shattered obsidian, eyes glowing like molten gold in the gloom. For a heartbeat, he forgot the battlefield. Forgot the blood on his teeth, the ache in his broken fingers.

What was that?

The titan had looked at him. Not with the mindless rage of a rampaging beast, but something... older. A gaze that carried the weight of storms and deep ocean trenches. Then, with a ground-shaking thud, she'd turned away, her tail carving a canyon through the mall's parking lot as she vanished into the city's smoke.

A wet, rasping cough shattered the moment.

"As much as that titan was... beautiful..." Shigaraki's voice was a serrated knife dragged up Izuku's spine. "You and I aren't done, Midoriya."

Izuku whirled, fists crackling with green lightning. Shigaraki stood hunched, his pallid skin peeling, decaying at the edges where his own Quirk ate at him. But his grin was wide, deranged.

"She's not part of your script, hero," Shigaraki crooned, flexing his fingers. "But I'll kill her too—after I turn you into dust."

The threat coiled in the air—until a distant roar shook the skyline.

The titan wasn't gone.

And she'd heard him.

¨SCENEBREAK

The shark carcass reeked.

Not the usual salty tang of ocean prey—this was rotten, bloated with gases that made your nostrils flare in disgust. Its flesh had turned the color of spoiled milk, jelly-like and peeling away from bone. You prodded it with a claw, grimacing (as much as a kaiju could grimace). Desperate times.

Then—a cough. Not the wet, dying hack of a sick human, but something deliberate. A warning.

You turned, slow and tectonic, sand shifting under your weight.

Blond. Buff. Smoldering.

The man stood with his arms crossed, his ridiculous tufts of hair defying gravity as steam curled off his muscles like he was actively powering up. His blue eyes flicked from you, to the shark, back to you—then he winced.

"I've eaten questionable street meat in my time," he said, voice booming even at conversational volume, "but that? Even I wouldn't risk it, young... uh..." He trailed off, gesturing at your general giant-lizard-ness.

You stared.

He stared back.

Then, with the gravitas of a man who once punched a meteor, All Might reached into his pocket and pulled out a whole, wrapped tuna.

"Here," he said, tossing it at your feet like offering a treat to a stray cat. "At least this won't give you food poisoning."

The shift from kaiju to human wasn't graceful.

Bones cracked, scales melted into skin, and your massive form shrank in a shimmer of displaced air—until you stood there, barefoot in the sand, dark hair streaked with pink, tilting your head at the suddenly very red-faced Symbol of Peace.

All Might's arm was still extended, the tuna now comically oversized in his grip. His mouth opened, closed, then opened again like a fish gasping for air.

"Ah—ah, here," he stammered, thrusting the fish toward you like a malfunctioning vending machine. "I—I'm All Might!"

...

You blinked.

Then, with deliberate slowness, you leaned forward—purple eyes glowing faintly—and took the tuna from his hand. Your fingers brushed his, and the man jumped like he'd been shocked.

"...Thanks," you said, voice rough from disuse. "Didn't peg you as the type to feed random monsters."

All Might's face went from red to nuclear.

"W-Well! A hero helps everyone! Even, uh..." He gestured vaguely at you. "...Formerly giant... lizard... people?"

A beat of silence.

Then—you took a bite of the tuna.

All Might looked like he might pass out.

The wind off the bay ruffled your dark, pink-streaked hair as you smirked, sharp canines glinting in the sunlight.

"I'm Y/N Gojira," you said, dipping your head in a playful half-bow.

All Might blinked.

Something about that name—Gojira—sent a jolt through his memory. A flicker of old news reels, black-and-white footage of smoke-choked cities and a roar that shook the world. His brain stuttered like a scratched DVD.

"R-Really?" he stammered, voice cracking in a way it hadn't since his teenage years. His biceps flexed unconsciously, as if bracing for impact.

You just smiled wider, your purple eyes crinkling with amusement.

Forcing himself back into Symbol of Peace Mode™, All Might coughed into his fist, then gave you a small, wobbly smile of his own.

"Well! I-I better be off!" he boomed, already backpedaling toward the city like a man escaping an active volcano. "Stay safe, Young Gojira!"

He turned on his heel—

Then tripped over a seashell.