During their years at U.A., they were known for more than just their skills. Their chemistry was undeniable. It wasn't a shy or distant bond, but a constant exchange of open flirtations, sharp remarks, shared smiles, and silences thick with tension. No one called it a 'relationship,' but everyone knew. They did too. Neither of them dared to give it a name, until that night, shortly before the beginning of the final war... when they finally decided to give themselves to each other. It was impulsive, but sincere. So real, it almost felt like a goodbye. And in some way... it was.

The day everything collapsed... The battlefield was hell. Crumbling buildings, smoke, screams, and that metallic stench of blood in the air. Nejire could barely stand when she saw him: standing in front of Shigaraki, completely alone. The scene felt frozen in time. The ground trembled, debris floated as if gravity had failed and he still stood there, defiant. His body torn apart by attacks, his right arm hanging limp, his face marked by determination... and despair.

Amid shattered buildings and clouds of dust, the battle against Tomura Shigaraki felt surreal. Waves of energy tore through the ground like glass. Nejire, exhausted, wounded, and desperate, caught sight of him. Alone. Facing Shigaraki with a fury that seemed inhuman. She saw him strike the villain down, land blows no one else dared to try. She saw him shine... as if the fate of the world rested on his shoulders. And then... Shigaraki smiled.

A trick. An underground attack. Swift. Treacherous. Lethal. The impact was devastating. His body was hurled back, limp. Nejire screamed and, with the last of her strength, flew toward him catching him before he hit the ground. "No, no, no...!" she cried, heart shattered. Her arms trembled as she held him. He could barely speak. Blood covered his face, his lips were cracked, his eyes barely open. "You're going to be okay, do you hear me? Everything's going to be okay..."

She repeated the words over and over, like a drowning prayer. But she wasn't speaking to him anymore. She was speaking to herself to the pain blooming inside her like an abyss. Then his gaze faded. His body went still. And something inside Nejire... broke.

Two years passed quickly... Nejire became even more active as a hero. She took missions constantly. She never stayed still. Maybe because she didn't want to be alone. Maybe because she couldn't.

The bright, sparkling Hado who once filled rooms with impulsive questions and soft laughter was now an efficient, ingenious, and reserved professional. She didn't ask as many questions anymore. She didn't talk as much. The uniform protected her from the outside world, and the hero mask was perfect for hiding what went on inside. She still wore her aesthetic, long, wavy blue hair, steady gaze... but her spark wasn't the same. It was a contained light. Precise. Hard to read.

It had been a long day. A routine patrol that ended in chaos due to a false alarm, a couple of minor incidents, and finally, a quiet night returning to the apartment. Nejire walked through the hallways of her building with her gloves still on, her hair slightly messy, and her boots stained with dirt. The elevator was broken again... so she took the stairs. She turned the key. Entered the apartment...

She tossed her bag onto the couch and let out a sigh longer than usual. The clock read 7:46 p.m. Another day, another patrol, another report signed. "Just keep going... that's what I tell myself every morning, right?..." She turned on the dim light in the dining room. The shadows on the walls retreated lazily. The apartment was spacious but cold, decorated with only the essentials. It wasn't lack of money. It was lack of interest...

She poured herself some tea, her movements subtle, letting the steam rise and brush against her face... It calmed her. Exhausted, she sank into the armchair with the remote in her hand, but didn't turn anything on. The television was just noise...

She closed her eyes... She didn't know why, but something about that night felt different. The air, maybe. Her pulse, racing for no reason. A formless premonition. A restlessness that didn't come from work, or an unfinished report. And it was just as that thought crossed her mind... that she heard the knock at the door.

One, two, three knocks. Firm, but without urgency.

Her eyes opened. Her heart began to beat faster, as if her body knew something she didn't. She frowned, suspicious. "Who the hell would show up at this hour unannounced?" She walked toward the door. Said nothing. Just rested her hand on the doorknob, not yet turning it. Behind that door, something awaited her. A memory that still hurt. Or maybe... the echo of a life she thought she had lost.