BNHA: I am Reiji Toga

The noise of cars mixed with the insistent honking of a delivery truck filled the air. It was midday, and the city moved with that chaotic, constant rhythm that seemed to ignore those walking alone among the crowd.

Reiji walked along a narrow sidewalk, his school uniform half-buttoned and his backpack slung over one shoulder. He had left early that day. A school pass for a supposed medical checkup. A white lie. He just needed a break. Time to think. To get away from Himiko's noise, his mother's questions, the letter that kept stirring in his memory.

He crossed the street just as the traffic light changed and turned onto a less busy road, an area with small shops that always seemed to be on the verge of closing: bike repair shops, watch repair shops, a stationery store that only opened when the owner felt like it.

It was on that street, precisely on that street, that he felt it.

It wasn't the classic tingling sensation. Not this time. It was something else. A silence amid the noise. A second of artificial calm, as if someone had turned down the volume of the world around him.

Reiji stopped, pretending to look at a display case with old watches. His reflection showed him before he turned around.

A boy was watching him from across the street, leaning against a locked bicycle. He had sunglasses on his head, headphones hanging around his neck, and an unbuttoned gray jacket that didn't match anything.

He wasn't moving. But he was smiling.

Reiji studied him out of the corner of his eye. Messy blond hair. Deceptively thin. And that nice-guy vibe, not standing out too much beyond the two red wings peeking out from his back.

He reminded him of something, but he couldn't quite place it at that moment. All the previous events had left his mind exhausted, too much so to remember where he had seen the guy he was watching in the reflection before.

The boy raised a hand, as if greeting an acquaintance he hadn't seen in a long time. Then he crossed the street, without rushing.

"Do you know that you stand like someone who's already expecting trouble?" he said, without introducing himself, as if the conversation had started long before.

Reiji didn't answer. He just looked at him.

"And I don't mean that in a bad way," he added, glancing around. "In fact, it's quite useful. You notice things sooner."

He leaned slightly, lowering his voice:

"Like me."

Reiji didn't respond. His body remained relaxed, but his fingers on the strap of his backpack had tensed slightly.

"Don't worry," the boy added, with a crooked smile that radiated a sense of relaxation. "I didn't come here to fight. Or to test you. At least not today."

He sat down on the metal railing that bordered the sidewalk. From that position, his face was level with Reiji's.

"I just wanted to see if you were like they said." He gave him a quick once-over, without mockery, without contempt, but rather with genuine curiosity. "And yes... You're weird. In a good way."

Reiji frowned slightly, trying to remember where he knew him from. But that way of speaking, of moving, of reading him as if he knew more than he was saying...

"Who told you something about me?" he finally asked, in a neutral voice that was clearly not typical for his age.

"People with free time," the boy replied, shrugging. "You know how things are in this world: everyone who stands out ends up on some list."

"And you?" Reiji narrowed his eyes. "What list are you on?"

The blond laughed. It was a brief, controlled laugh, but genuine.

"Good question. Let's just say I'm in training. I work part-time for people who watch from the shadows... and part-time for myself."

He got up from the railing, stretching his arms. Then he walked a few steps toward the corner, as if he were about to leave.

"What's your name?" Reiji asked suddenly, without moving.

The boy stopped, his back to him. He turned his head, raising an eyebrow.

"Hawks."

And then he added.

"If you ever need someone to talk to... I'll see you around."

Without another word, he turned the corner and disappeared into the crowd.

Reiji stood there. Motionless. Finally recognizing why that person seemed so familiar. Japan's third best hero, or at least that's what he remembered, Hawks. At least, his future identity. Suddenly everything made sense, before it was just assumptions but finally he came to the conclusion of everything.

The noise of the world returned like a tide, covering the strange emptiness left by that brief conversation.

"The quietest wings do not come from the sky."

And now, for the first time, he wondered if the message had been more literal than he thought.

He looked down.

There was something on the floor. A feather. No, not just any feather. It was dark red, almost burgundy, impossible to have gone unnoticed... Except for the way it seemed to have appeared without a sound, without warning, right at his feet.

He picked it up.

Below, on the stem of the pen, a word had been handwritten in black ink, so small that it looked carved:

"Kabuki – Line 3 – Last Carriage"

It wasn't too far from where he was, just a few minutes' walk, but he knew perfectly well that the message wasn't meant for him right now. He put the pen back in his backpack, afraid of damaging it in some way, and returned to his original course.

He had a lot of things to write down in his notebook.

***

It was late. Later than usual.

He had told his mother that he was going out to buy some stationery for a project. He told Himiko that he needed some air, that he wouldn't be long. She had looked at him for a long time before nodding. She didn't ask any more questions. Lately, she was beginning to understand when she shouldn't. Especially after the street fight.

The train arrived with the dragging sound of metal braking. Reiji waited. He didn't get on right away. He counted the cars with his eyes, one by one, until he reached the last one.

The empty car.

The doors opened with a tired hiss. Only three people inside. A man asleep with his face covered by a newspaper. An elderly woman looking out the window. And a third figure in the back... 

He took a seat by the door, leaving his backpack between his feet. The white light in the car hummed softly. He took out his phone. He didn't look at it. He just held it to look like a kid.

Two stations passed. Then three.

Nothing.

"What are you playing at, Hawks?" And just when he was beginning to think that maybe he had misinterpreted everything, it happened.

An electric flicker.

The light in the carriage dimmed for half a second as it arrived at the station and the doors opened. Barely anything. A slight oscillation.

But when it came back, Reiji knew. He felt it.

Someone else was there.

He looked up.

A teenager, standing at the other end of the car. He looked like just another kid, someone ordinary.

He wasn't looking directly at him, but he wasn't moving like someone with a destination either. It was as if his existence there had a different purpose. As if he existed only to be noticed. And Reiji noticed him.

The sensation in the back of his neck was instantly activated, that silent alarm that he was beginning to understand as his sixth sense. It wasn't a threat... but it wasn't reassuring either.

The train continued on its way.

One station. Another.

Reiji didn't get up. Neither did the teenager.

The fifth station arrived. The doors opened with their usual creak. Reiji pretended to look for something in his backpack. He didn't find what he was hoping for.

The pen was still there. Intact... But it wasn't alone.

A white envelope, neatly folded, was waiting next to it. No sender. No address.

Just one word written in the same precise black ink as before.

"Reiji"

When he looked up again... The teenager was gone. He hadn't felt him approach, or when he left it there... Not even when he left!

He was simply... gone.

She frowned. She looked around the car. The three adults were still in their own world. Nothing had changed. And yet, everything had changed.

She didn't open it there. Not yet. But she knew that the game had just changed.

***

The front door opened with a slight creak. Reiji entered with a steady step, but without haste. The light in the dining room was still on, barely illuminating the entrance hall. The smell of miso soup still lingered in the air, warm and familiar.

"Reiji," his mother's voice called from the kitchen. "Where were you?"

He took off his shoes, his expression neutral. It wasn't unusual for him to go out alone sometimes, but this time he had stayed out longer than usual. And it was clear that his mother hadn't let it go.

"With some friends," he replied casually. "We just walked around for a while."

His mother appeared in the kitchen doorway, still wearing her apron and frowning slightly. She scanned him with her eyes, as if looking for some mark, some clue that would contradict his answer.

"At this hour?"

"I came as soon as I saw it getting dark, I swear."

She sighed, more tired than annoyed. She said nothing more. She just nodded and went back to the kitchen, muttering something about heating up his food.

Reiji crossed over to his room without making a sound.

He was ready to see the new envelope he had gotten.

But he wasn't alone.

"Onii-chan?"

Himiko was waiting for him, sitting on his bed, her legs crossed and her pajamas rumpled. Her hair, still wet from the bath, dripped onto the blanket. She looked at him silently.

"I thought you were already asleep," he said.

"I couldn't," she murmured, looking down. "You were acting strange before you left. You didn't say where you were going. And since the other day... you've been different."

Reiji put his backpack on the floor and sat on the edge of the bed, without looking at her.

"It's nothing you need to worry about."

"Why don't you tell me?"

"It's hard to explain, Himiko-chan."

She raised her head, her eyes slightly moist. But not from sadness. From an understanding too mature for her age.

"Tell me, I'll understand. I promise."

Silence filled the room for a moment. Then Reiji sighed.

"What I want most is to keep you away from this, at least until you have the maturity to control your bloodlust... Your talent is undeniable," he thought, looking at her for a moment, then got up without another word, grabbed his backpack, and walked out the door.

"It's not something I can tell you yet, I'm sorry."

He went into the bathroom and closed the door with a soft click.

Reiji leaned against the door for a few seconds, his forehead barely touching the wood. 

He turned on the light and walked over to the sink, leaving his backpack on the toilet lid. His fingers searched precisely through the compartments until he found the envelope.

It was identical to the first one. No sender. No stamp. Just that dull ivory tone, as if the paper itself knew it had to go unnoticed.

Reiji held it in his hands for a moment longer. Part of him already knew that what he was about to read would not change anything on the surface... but it would inside.

He opened it.

And inside, once again, a folded sheet of paper. The same handwriting. The same dark ink. But the tone had changed.

"You have fulfilled expectations."

He frowned. There was no signature. No explanation. Just more lines.

"Strength, physical recovery, emotional control, immediate reaction. You are someone out of the ordinary in every way, almost like a chosen one."

He chose not to think about what "chosen" meant. He had heard it before. In his past life. In another version of himself that was no longer here.

"We have analyzed everything about you, and you have been selected."

It seemed that all his doubts would soon be resolved.

"Do you still want to be a hero?"

That line made him pause. Not because he doubted. But because he understood all too well what that word implied...

"If your answer is yes, someone will come for you. Don't use your strength to get their attention. Just stay as you are. You know who it is after all."

Hawks, it was clear he was referring to him. 

There was nothing else on the paper, but he finally sighed, knowing that some things would end and new ones would begin.

"The dark side of the hero commission... What did they really want from me?"

Reiji calmly folded the paper. He washed his face with cold water. And he looked at himself in the mirror for just a few seconds.

When he returned to the room, Himiko was already asleep. Or pretending to be asleep. The blanket covered her up to her nose, but one of her eyes was still peeking out, half-open.

"Good night, Himiko-chan."