detective · analytical · secret identity · my hero academia · bungo stray dogs · mystery · class 1-a · crossover · trench coat · suspense
The bus engine dies with a final shudder, leaving only the faint hum of Yokohama's afternoon. Grey light filters through the grimy window, painting the familiar skyline in shades of concrete and mist. The air carries the scent of damp salt and aged brick. And there he is, waiting on the curb: Fukuzawa, motionless as a statue, his silver hair a stark contrast against the overcast sky. My pulse drums a frantic rhythm in my ears as my classmates begin to disembark, a tide of noisy, jostling uniforms. I hang back, letting them pass, my grip on my bag strap tightening until the leather creaks. Bakugo's abrasive shout, Kirishima's booming laugh, Midoriya's anxious stammer – it all melts into a meaningless buzz as my boot finally meets the pavement. The President's gaze finds me, steady and in…