I was on my way to school, my claws clicking softly against the pavement as I made my way through the streets, my senses sharp, alert. The world around me felt alive with sounds and smells, and the vibrations of every step I took reverberated through the ground. My red eyes scanned the surroundings, every detail sharp and clear, yet my mind was preoccupied with the day ahead—more chaos, more problems to deal with.

As I moved through the alley, I noticed a familiar figure approaching from the corner of my vision. Recovery Girl. Despite her usual petite size, she walked with confidence, her steps steady. She held something small in her hand—a delicate love pin, glittering slightly in the dim morning light.

She slowed as she reached me, smiling up at me, her eyes kind yet filled with an unspoken understanding. She extended the pin toward me with the gentlest of gestures, her voice carrying over the wind. "Here," she said softly, her tone warm and grateful. "Thank you for helping us find one of our lost sheep."

Her words hung in the air, the weight of them more profound than I expected. "Lost sheep" — I knew what she meant. People often wandered off track, lost in their own worlds, their own battles. But I'd never thought of myself as someone who could help guide them back, yet here she was, acknowledging it.

I cocked my head slightly, my sharp, red eyes narrowing for a moment. The pin was small, almost fragile, but I could see the care in her eyes as she offered it. A simple, thoughtful token of appreciation, one that I didn't know how to accept in my current form.

With a flick of my tail, I reached out carefully, my claws brushing against the edge of the pin as I took it in my grasp. I wasn't used to such kindness, let alone recognition. But there it was, something that felt both strange and right in my claws.

"Thank you," I rumbled, the growl in my voice heavy with meaning. I couldn't express much more in my current form, but I hoped my eyes spoke for me. It wasn't often that someone treated me like more than just a weapon or a monster.

Recovery Girl gave me a soft, approving smile, as if she understood the effort it took for me to speak at all. "It's just a small token, Onyx," she said, as though downplaying the gift. "But I appreciate what you did for us."

I stared down at the pin for a moment, feeling its weight, then tucked it into a secure part of my form. It was strange, carrying something so human, yet in this moment, it made me feel a bit more... connected. With a final glance at her, I turned and slinked off, my claws once again clicking against the pavement as I disappeared into the city, the small pin a reminder of the unexpected kindness in a world that often saw me as nothing more than a weapon.

The day ahead seemed a little less bleak, even for an Indoraptor like me.

I walked back to school, the pin still tucked safely against my side, a strange warmth filling my chest. For once, the usual weight of the day didn't feel so heavy. The city streets buzzed around me, but in that moment, I felt... lighter, like maybe, just maybe, I wasn't so alone in all of this.

As I neared the school, I spotted Bakugo talking to one of his classmates outside. His usual fiery expression softened for a second as he caught sight of me. His gaze locked with mine, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow. Then, with his signature smug grin, he called out across the courtyard.

"Thanks for saving me, lizard!" he shouted, his voice as loud and brash as ever.

I flicked my tail in response, my red eyes narrowing as I let out a low, amused growl. "You're welcome, hothead," I muttered back, my voice rough and deep.

I wasn't sure what it was—maybe it was the way he acknowledged me, or the fact that, for once, I wasn't just a weapon or a monster to him—but hearing those words from Bakugo made something inside me stir. Maybe we weren't so different after all. And for a brief moment, as I stood there in the school courtyard, I felt like I wasn't just some creature lost in a world that didn't understand me. I was something more.

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It had been a day since I saved Bakugo, and now I was curled up in a quiet corner of one of the U.A. corridors, my large form tucked into the shadows. The warmth of sleep had started to settle over me, the day's events lingering in my thoughts. Just as I was beginning to drift off, a presence loomed over me.

I peeled open one red eye, my gaze narrowing as I glared at the figure standing above me. It was Aizawa—dark-haired, weary, his tired eyes not missing a thing. "What do you want, Aizawa?" I asked gruffly, my voice raspy from both my form and the frustration of being disturbed.

He didn't flinch under my gaze. Instead, he looked down at me, his expression unreadable, his usual calm demeanor unshaken. "Can't I say thank you for saving one of my students?" he shot back, his voice even, but there was something almost sarcastic about it.

I rolled my eyes, the movement quick and dismissive. "We both know that's not why you're here," I responded, my tone thick with disbelief. I lifted my head slowly, feeling the weight of the conversation settle over me. Aizawa wasn't one to offer praise or gratitude lightly, especially not to someone like me. There was always something else beneath his words—something he wasn't saying.

Aizawa didn't seem phased by my response. He took a step closer, his tired eyes never leaving mine. "You've got a sharp nose, Onyx," he said, his voice lowering slightly. "But you're right. I'm not here for gratitude."

The air between us grew tense, thick with unspoken understanding. What did Aizawa want from me? I was no hero, and yet, I could feel his presence pressing on me, an invisible weight pulling at my thoughts. What was it that had brought him here, to a creature like me, in the middle of the night?

He said nothing more, just handed me a letter. I took it carefully between my claws, mindful not to tear it with the sharp edges of my talons. The wax seal caught my eye—dark, unassuming, with no symbol or name to indicate its origin. I carefully peeled it away, the fragile paper crinkling slightly as I unfolded it.

The letter itself was simple, stark black ink on white paper, but the words written inside were enough to make my red eyes narrow with suspicion. I growled softly under my breath, reading through the message. The handwriting was sharp, deliberate—there was no mistaking it: "You won't be able to stay away for long."

A chill ran down my spine, the hairs on the back of my neck rising in response. The words felt like a warning, a threat—something far darker than a simple note.

I looked up, my gaze meeting Aizawa's. His expression was unreadable, but there was a slight hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Looks like you have a secret admirer, Onyx," he remarked, his voice dry, almost teasing, but there was an edge of concern there as well.

I didn't respond immediately, my thoughts swirling around the words in the letter. Who could've sent it? And why? My instincts, honed over years of survival, told me this wasn't just some random note—it was personal, directed at me.

"Admirer or not, it doesn't feel like a gift," I muttered, crumpling the paper in my claws and tossing it aside. There was something far more sinister in the air now, and I had a feeling I wouldn't be able to ignore it for long.

Aizawa seemed to sense the shift in the mood. His eyes flicked to the discarded letter, and then back to me. "You might want to be careful, Onyx," he warned, his voice losing its usual humor. "Not everyone is your friend. And this could be just the beginning."

I flicked my tail, the warning in his voice not lost on me. It felt like the calm before a storm—one I wasn't sure I was ready for.