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thebunnednun · 7 months ago

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You're my Coffee Chapter 4

Shouta Aizawa x Pro hero/Teacher! Reader

After receiving a distressing call from a Japanese hospital, you learn your best friend Nemuri Kayama (Midnight) has briefly awoken from her coma and is desperately screaming for you.

She makes a final request: take care of her students if she doesn't survive.

Chapter 4: Close call

Summary:

You get to have a moment of honesty with Izuku, go out with your new 'friends', help a sad baddie, and clean Kayama's desk without bawling your eyes out! Before getting caught by banana man.

Songs for this chapter:

Stressed out by 21 pilots It's always a good time - C. Rae Jetson Wish you were here - Avril Lavigne <---- This one really hits hard

ON WITH THE SHOW!!~

“Psst, new girl.”

At first, you ignored the voice, keeping your eyes fixed on the board. But the whisper persisted, tugging at your attention like an annoying fly. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, determined to stay focused. Finally, you relented, glancing out of the corner of your eye to see who was trying to get your attention.

It was Shinso, his violet eyes narrowed in a mixture of boredom and mischief. He tilted his head slightly, clearly trying to catch your gaze again, but you refused to give in. You could feel his stare practically burning a hole in the side of your head, and the corner of his mouth twitched as if he knew he was getting under your skin.

You tightened your grip on your pen, determined to ignore him. But he wasn’t about to give up so easily. With a sly grin, Shinso leaned forward slightly, as if daring you to react. You let out a silent huff, shifting in your seat and then, with calculated precision, you kicked the leg of his desk with your heel.

The sound was soft but sharp enough to make him stop in his tracks. His eyes widened in surprise for a split second before he smirked, a glint of amusement flashing in his gaze. You shot him a look that clearly said, "Knock it off," and he gave a slight nod, leaning back in his chair.

Just as you thought the exchange was over, something small and rectangular landed on your desk with a light thud. You blinked, looking down to see a neatly folded piece of paper. Opening it, you found a list of phone numbers scribbled inside—Mina, Denki, Kirishima, Ochako, Tsu, Jirou, Momo, and even Iida. A small note at the bottom read,

"In case you need anything. Welcome to 2-A!"

‘Fuck they’re so sweet.’

Your heart warmed at the gesture, but a pang of guilt tugged at you for how you’d reacted to Shinso earlier.

Without drawing any attention, you reached into your purse and pulled out a cookie wrapped in a napkin, courtesy of Taishi. Glancing around to make sure Aizawa wasn’t watching, you discreetly dropped the cookie onto Shinso’s foot under his desk. He looked down, his eyes narrowing in confusion, before his lips quirked into a half-smirk as he realized what you’d done. With a quick, subtle motion, he swiped the cookie before anyone else could notice.

You propped open your compact from your purse, using the mirror to catch a glimpse of his expression. Shinso took a quiet bite of the cookie, his smirk softening into something almost resembling appreciation. You couldn’t help but feel a small sense of satisfaction, knowing you’d made amends in your own way.

Returning to your “schoolwork,” you flipped open your sparkly spiral notebook, its pages already decorated with doodles and random notes. You pretended to jot down whatever Aizawa was teaching, though in reality, your pen sketched out small, intricate designs along the margins.

Aizawa’s voice was a steady, almost soothing drone in the background. Despite his gruff appearance and no-nonsense attitude, there was something comforting about the way he spoke, even if he sounded like he was always on the verge of falling asleep.

Feeling a bit more settled now, you continued to sketch and pretend to take notes, you thought back to what you knew about Aizawa from Mimi. He wasn’t that much different from what she’d described—gruff, strict, but deeply caring in his own, quiet way. You’d never formally met him before now, having been back home for your licensing, and there was a good chance she hadn’t mentioned you to him either.

Considering all the trouble you used to get into, she probably didn’t want to say until you were ready.

You glanced up from your doodles, taking the opportunity to observe the rest of the class. Mina was doodling little hearts in the margins of her own notes, her golden eyes darting occasionally toward the front of the room to make sure Aizawa wasn’t looking her way.

Denki was trying to discreetly charge his phone under the desk, the faint crackle of electricity barely noticeable. Kirishima was scribbling notes furiously, his brow furrowed in concentration as if every word Aizawa spoke was pure gold.

Ochako and Tsu were sharing a textbook, whispering quietly to each other while Jirou tapped her pencil against her desk in time with the soft music still playing from her earphone. Momo was perfectly poised, her notes meticulously organized and her attention fully on Aizawa, while Iida sat ramrod straight, his eyes fixed on the board with unwavering focus.

‘Let’s take a closer look.’

You allowed your aura to gently brush against the energy wavelengths in the room, surveying what everyone was going through and feeling.

The calm you had spread earlier was still lingering, but there were traces of nervousness, excitement, and the usual teenage uncertainty.

Izuku’s energy was a mix of curiosity and concern, his thoughts likely still on the note that had been intercepted. He glanced at you from time to time, as if trying to gauge your mood.

Sero, Denki, and Aoyama were visibly struggling to stay awake. Sero’s head kept nodding forward before he jolted himself awake, a thin line of drool escaping the corner of his mouth.

Denki’s eyes were half-closed, his body slumped over his desk as if the weight of the world was pressing down on him. ‘Probably should just wait to charge your phone dude.’ Aoyama, ever the dramatic, had his hand elegantly draped over his forehead, his other arm supporting his head as he fought a losing battle against sleep.

‘At least he looks elegant?’

Kirishima was still valiantly trying to take notes, but Bakugou, sitting next to him, kept pinching his arm to keep him awake. Every time Kirishima started to drift off, Bakugou would give him a sharp pinch, and Kirishima would jolt upright, rubbing his arm and muttering a tired “thanks, bro.” Despite Bakugou’s brooding aura and seemingly calm exterior, you could sense a storm of emotions churning beneath the surface. He exuded a mix of frustration and protectiveness, his energy crackling with intensity.

‘Awe, grumpy and sunshine.’

Mina was nervously shaking her leg, her vibrant pink aura soured with gray anxiety. She kept glancing around the room, her hands trembling slightly as if she had pins and needles. Next to her, Kaminari was trying to both stay awake and comfort her by covering her hands with his own, his warmer touch helping to steady her shaking. His aura radiated a gentle warmth, something like candle light, a vibrant contrast to the flickers of nervous energy you could see in Mina’s.

Momo and Sato both seemed hungry but with no appetite. Momo’s stomach growled softly, but she ignored it, her face set in a determined but slightly pained expression. Sato, similarly, rubbed his belly absentmindedly, his eyes distant and unfocused. You could feel the low energy levels in their auras, a sign of their body’s need for sustenance clashing with their lack of desire to eat.

Todoroki sat behind Izuku stoically, his expression calm and composed, but his aura told a different story. Internally, he was distressed, his energy a swirling mix of cold and hot, reflecting his dual quirk. He maintained a serene exterior, but you could sense the turmoil brewing inside him, like a volcano waiting to erupt.

You had to give it to the kid for not being irritable but if he snapped right now– you couldn’t say you didn’t see it coming.

Behind you, Shinso’s aura was a mix of exhaustion and something darker. His complexion was pale, and the way his eyes blinked when the lights flickered hinted at sensitivity or perhaps reliving a traumatic memory. He radiated a quiet strength, but you could tell he hadn’t slept well in a long time, his energy levels perpetually low. You wanted to clock him for insomnia but you didn’t know him that well, yet.

Iida was sitting rigidly, taking deep breaths to steady himself. His aura was a mix of longing and determination, his eyes focused but distant, as if he were trying to hold onto something just out of reach. You could sense the deep sense of responsibility weighing heavily on his shoulders, his energy tinged with a subtle sadness.

Asui now had an obvious headache, her hand pressed to her temple as she tried to concentrate. Her usually calm and collected aura was disrupted by waves of discomfort, her energy levels dipping as she struggled to keep up with the lesson. Ochako, seated next to her, was holding her stomach, her aura flickering with unease and mild pain. You could tell she was trying to tough it out, but her discomfort was palpable.

‘Is it Shark week or is the lunch fighting back?’

Shifting over, Hagakure’s stress levels were alarming. Even though she was invisible, you could almost see her clutching her chest, her tie loosened in a rare display of dishevelment. Her aura was a chaotic swirl of anxiety and tension, her energy erratic and unsettled. You wanted to hug her right there and then but that would be weird without context and you had to remember you were still an adult.

Next to her, Ojiro was flexing his numb tail after being still for so long, his aura steady but tinged with mild discomfort. His energy was calm, but the numbness in his tail was clearly bothering him, making him shift in his seat every few minutes.

Jirou also looked to be in pain, her head gently slumping against her desk. Her aura was a steady rhythm of discomfort, her earphones doing little to block out whatever was causing her pain. Momo, always prepared, quickly slid her and the other girls something, likely a painkiller, which Jirou accepted with a grateful nod before trying to discreetly pass it along.

Next to you Shoji’s aura was heavy with something weighing on his chest. He was slowly flexing each of his limbs, his energy methodically moving through his body as if trying to work out the tension. Behind him, Koda, on the other hand, was trembling, his aura a mix of anxiety and cold. But he was seated right under the AC unit, and you couldn’t tell if his shivers were from the cold air or the anxiety radiating off him in waves. He was staring longly out of the window and you could relate to wanting to jump out (responsibly) and just be free for the rest of the school day.

You turned your attention back to Izuku, noting how his hands were on his shoulders, trying to politely roll them without being a distraction. His aura was still a jumble of emotions, but there was a steady pulse of determination running through it, he had a very indomitable spirit. He was also staring at his hands as if they weren’t really his– which they technically weren’t– and you wanted to hug him too.

You decided to throw them another bone and disbursed some calming energy from your own aura, hoping to bring a bit of peace to your classmates. You may need to take a fat nap in Rumi’s apartment and inhale Taishiro’s dinner spread but you don't mind. The kids were strong but they were still that– kids. And they were worth it.

As the calming waves spread through the room, you noticed the immediate effects.

Sero, Denki, and Aoyama stopped struggling against sleep, their breathing evening out as they finally succumbed to a peaceful nap. Kirishima looked more focused, no longer needing Bakugou’s pinches to stay awake. Mina’s shaking subsided, and Kaminari gave in to placing his head on the desk.

Even Bakugou’s brooding aura seemed to lighten slightly, though he still exuded an intensity that made you wary. Todoroki’s internal distress eased a bit, his aura settling into a more balanced state. Shinso’s tired eyes softened, a hint of gratitude flickering in his gaze. Iida’s breaths became more even, the longing in his aura less pronounced. Asui’s headache seemed to lessen, and Ochako’s discomfort faded into the background.

Hagakure’s stress levels dropped, her aura becoming more stable and less chaotic. Ojiro stopped flexing his tail as frequently, and Jirou’s pain seemed to ease thanks to Momo’s quick assistance. Shoji’s heavy aura lightened, and Koda’s trembling subsided.

With their energies relaxed, you try to focus on Aizawa’s lecture, but your thoughts keep drifting. You weren’t fully licensed to practice yet, but the urge to help was strong. Maybe if you used some of the methods you’d learned, you could bring them out of their shells.

If some of them struggled with outward expression, perhaps being a safe space or creating one would help. But what if they weren't struggling with expressing themselves but felt as if they were dropping hints that no one noticed? That could be the case for someone like Hagakure or Todoroki.

You shake your head, feeling a wave of doubt. ‘Jeez, why did Nemarui think you could do this?’ The thought nags at you, a persistent whisper in the back of your mind. You glance down at your notebook, and before you realize it, you're sketching her—Nemarui, as you first met her. She’s not in her hero uniform, just normal clothing, her blue eyes warm and gentle.

The image changes with each stroke of your pen. Now, she’s there, bailing you out of jail, her expression firm yet kind. Another memory—she’s in formal attire, defending you in court, her voice strong and unwavering. The last image is from a simpler time, in her kitchen, making pancakes while Rumi playfully bickered with you over who got the first stack. “Focus on your homework,” Nemarui had said, a soft smile on her lips.

You hadn’t thought about that in a while. The nostalgia wraps around you, offering a brief comfort, but then you look up, and the weight of the room returns. Some of the kids look teary-eyed now, the emotions in the room rising like a tide threatening to overwhelm.

‘Ah shit!’

With a deep breath, you quickly shift your aura, flooding the room with calming, positive vibes. The atmosphere gradually changes, the tension easing as your energy spreads out. You can almost see the relief in their faces, a few of them blinking back their tears.

This was why you were here. Maybe you weren’t fully licensed yet, and maybe you had doubts, but you could still help. Even if it was just by being a calming presence, a safe space in a chaotic world.

As the bell rings, the room fills with the sound of shuffling papers and stretching limbs. Those who had dozed off—Sero, Denki, and Aoyama—are gently nudged awake by their desk partners. Sero groans, rubbing his eyes, while Denki stretches his arms above his head, yawning loudly. Kirishima, who had been pinched awake by Bakugou earlier, stands and cracks his neck, looking more energized than before. The atmosphere in the room feels lighter, more relaxed.

Mina is the first to move, practically leaping from her seat to give you a tight hug. Her energy is infectious, and you can’t help but smile as you return the embrace. “The others and I want to chat outside for a bit before you head home. Is that cool?” her voice was bubbly.

You nod, grateful for her warmth. “Totally, and thanks for being so kind today, Mina. I really appreciate it.”

She grins, a little sheepish. “Ah, it’s nothing. We’re all just glad you’re okay.” As you both pull away, Momo steps up, her demeanor calm and composed as always. “I could walk you to Principal Nezu’s office if you’d like,” she offers, adjusting her school bag over her shoulder. “Just to see if you’ll be dorming with us.”

You smile at her thoughtfulness. “Thank you, Momo, but I’ll figure that out with my mentor, Mirko-san. I appreciate the note earlier.” Momo nods, understanding. “Of course. If you need anything, we’re all here.”

Before you leave, you turn to Shinso, who is lazily gathering his things. “Sorry about kicking your desk earlier,” you say, feeling a bit guilty. He shrugs, a small smirk playing on his lips. “No harm done. Thanks for the cookie, by the way.”

You return the smirk with a nod, then turn to Izuku, who’s busy organizing his notes. You slip him a small piece of paper, your fingers brushing against his. He looks up at you with curiosity in his eyes, and opens it, “Meet me on the roof after everyone’s gone. Don’t get followed.”

Izuku’s eyes widen slightly, but he nods, tucking the note into his pocket. You give him a reassuring smile before stepping back to your desk. You hadn’t taken out much, just a few things that now find their way back into your multicolored butterfly bookbag. You grab your Juicy Couture purse, feeling its familiar weight in your hand.

As you head toward the front of the room, Denki calls out, “Don’t get eaten!” His tone is playful, but before he can say anything else, Jirou grabs him by the ear and starts dragging him out of the classroom, muttering something about not getting detention.

You chuckle to yourself as you watch them leave, the last of the students filtering out of the room. Now, it’s just you and Aizawa.

The door closes behind you, leaving the room in a comfortable silence. Aizawa, who had been sipping from his mug of coffee, sets it down and looks at you with those tired, yet perceptive eyes. The atmosphere shifts, the lightness from moments before replaced with something more serious, more focused. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself for the conversation ahead.

It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking, and you find yourself shifting slightly under the weight of his scrutiny. That dark blue aura washing over him in lumpy waves.

You wouldn’t take anything too seriously– yes, you were a grown woman pretending to be a student at your best friend's work and you can see how weird it was. But everyone else could fuck off because you didn’t see any other adult getting on these kids level to comfort them.

You’re not sure what to expect from this conversation. He’s a man of few words, and despite what you’ve heard from others you don’t know him well enough to predict his reaction. You’ve always been good at reading people, but Aizawa is almost an enigma, a blank canvas that offers no clues.

You nod, understanding. “I wasn’t trying to disrupt anything, sir. I just… I thought it might help with—” You pause, searching for the right words. “—with morale, maybe.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Morale? You think passing notes during class is going to boost morale?”

You resist the urge to fidget, keeping your gaze steady. “Not the note itself, but the connection it represents.”

Aizawa leans back in his chair, his expression softening just a fraction. “You’re not wrong. But there are better ways to show that without undermining classroom discipline.”

You nod again, this time with more confidence. “I understand. I’ll be more mindful in the future.”

He studies you for another long moment, then sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re new here, and you’re still finding your footing. I get that. But this isn’t an ordinary school, and your classmates aren’t ordinary students. What they’re going through, what they’ve already been through… it’s not something you can fix with a few kind words or gestures.”

His words sink in, and you can’t help but feel a pang of guilt. You’ve always wanted to help, to be a source of support for others. But this is different. This is more complicated, more dangerous than anything you’ve ever dealt with.

‘Teenagers.’

“I know,” you say quietly. “But I still want to try. Even if it’s just in small ways.” You shift and your bracelets make soft clinks against each other.

Aizawa’s gaze softens further, and for the first time, you see a hint of understanding in his eyes. “Just remember that this isn’t a one-person job. You’re here to learn, just like they are. Don’t take on more than you can handle.”

You nod, the weight of his words settling on your shoulders. “I won’t.”

He leans forward, crossing his arms on the desk. “You’ve got potential, but you need to be careful. These kids are dealing with a lot, and the last thing they need is someone adding to their stress.”

You swallow hard, the responsibility of your role sinking in even deeper. “I’ll do my best to help, not to hinder.” He doesn’t know why you're saying this more for yourself than for him. But you don’t care, you never really liked authority figures, ironically.

Aizawa watches you for a moment longer before nodding. “Good. Now, about this note business—let’s make sure it doesn’t happen again, at least not during class.”

“Understood,” you reply, your tone sincere.

He dismisses you with a wave of his hand, and you turn to leave, but not before pausing at the door. “Thank you, Aizawa-sensei. I appreciate the advice.”

He doesn’t respond, but you catch the slightest nod from him as you step out into the hallway.

The door clicks shut behind you, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. The hallway is empty, the sounds of students heading to their next classes fading into the distance. You glance at the clock on the wall. You still have a few minutes before you’re supposed to meet Izuku on the roof and the others at their lockers.

As you make your way toward the stairs, your thoughts drift back to the conversation you just had. Aizawa’s words echo in your mind, a reminder of the delicate balance you’ll need to maintain here. You’ve been given a chance to make a difference, but you’ll need to be careful, thoughtful, and above all, patient.

You reach the stairs and begin to climb, each step bringing you closer to the roof, and to whatever comes next.

As you climb the stairs, your mind replays the conversation you just had with Aizawa. The weight of his words still lingers, but so does something else—something subtle yet significant. The conversation gave you more than just advice; it gave you insight.

During your time in the classroom, you couldn’t help but analyze everything about him. His energy, his aura, even the state of his desk—all of it painted a picture of who Aizawa is beneath the surface.

The scattered papers, the files meticulously organized but clearly well-used, the open email on his phone—it all told a story. You noticed the way his eyes flickered with a mix of weariness and determination, the way his shoulders tensed slightly when he mentioned the students’ struggles, the way his hands rested heavily on his desk as if carrying an unseen burden.

You piece it all together, forming a clearer understanding of the man who just sat across from you. ‘ He probably feels like he failed them,’ you think to yourself. ‘ They’re alive, so that’s good, but a lot of them are still really injured—some inwardly, some outwardly, mostly both.’ You begin to grasp why he’s so tired, why he seems so worn down despite his firm exterior. The battles these students have faced didn’t just leave scars on them; they’ve left marks on him too.

It’s more than just physical exhaustion. It’s the weight of responsibility, the strain of knowing that despite all his efforts, his students are still suffering. You see now that he’s not just tired—he’s carrying the weight of every injury, every emotional scar, every sleepless night his students have endured. And in his mind, no matter how hard he fights for them, it’s never quite enough.

You also caught the subtle ways he was trying to assess you, not just as the student you’re posing as, but judging from that open email on his phone– as the hero you’re supposed to be teaching next week. It’s a careful dance of figuring out how the dust is going to settle once you get everything you need but you don’t feel too bad about it right now.

Your loyalty lies with Kayama not Banana man.

Lost in these thoughts, you almost don’t notice that you’ve reached the top of the stairs. The cool breeze hits your face as you push on the door and step out onto the roof, pulling you from your reverie. Your eyes immediately land on a familiar mop of green hair, Izuku standing near the edge, waiting for you.

He turns as he hears the door close behind you, his expression shifting from anxious to relieved when he sees you. You take a moment to observe him, not just his posture or his expression, but the way his energy feels—still slightly jittery, like he’s carrying too much on his shoulders, but with a resolve that’s hard to miss.

You approach him, a soft smile on your face as you try to push away the heaviness that’s been lingering in your mind. “Hey,” you greet him, your voice calm and steady.

Izuku smiles back, though it’s tinged with nervousness. “Hey… I wasn’t sure if you’d come.”

“Of course I did,” you reply, stepping closer. “We didn’t get to finish our conversation, after all.”

Izuku glances around, making sure no one else is nearby before turning his full attention to you. “I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”

You shake your head, dismissing his concern. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not your fault. Besides, it gave me a chance to come up here.” You look out to the vast greenery surrounding the school and sigh to yourself before looking at the sun and back to a confused cinnamon roll.

Izuku stands there, his green eyes filled with curiosity and uncertainty as he waits for you to speak. You take a moment to gather your thoughts, then finally ask, "So, why did you show me your notebook earlier?"

He hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well… there was this incident at the mall a while back. A villain attacked, and there was this off-duty hero who took care of him. She looked… really similar to you, and I wanted to know if maybe she was your mom."

You huff, the idea striking you as so absurd that you can’t help but giggle. The giggle turns into a laugh—one that grows louder, almost uncontrollable, until it takes on an almost manic edge. The sound echoes across the empty rooftop, causing Izuku to take a nervous step back. His eyes widen in alarm, and for a moment, he’s at a loss for what to do.

You eventually manage to pull yourself together, wiping away the tears that formed from your fit of laughter. “Sorry,” you say, still chuckling a bit as you catch your breath. “No, there’s no way that could’ve been my mom.”

He looks at you awkwardly, shifting from one foot to the other. “Oh… is that because she’s back in your home country?”

You shake your head, the smile still lingering on your face. “No, not at all. I’m really sorry for startling you like that. I just found it really funny.” You pause, giving him a sheepish grin.

You always had a bad habit of laughing at ‘inappropriate’ times. Like when someone gets hurt, that time you got kidnapped, or when you met with your parole officer.

Izuku’s eyes widen at your outburst, but he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he furrows his brows, clearly trying to make sense of your reaction. “So… if it’s not that, then what?”

You lean in slightly, your gaze challenging. “You’re smarter than this, Izuku. Come on, try again.”

He studies you more intently, his eyes scanning your features as if trying to piece together a puzzle. Then, out of nowhere, he grabs a pencil from his pocket and throws it at you. Instinctively, you flick your finger, sending a small blast of energy that deflects the pencil mid-air. It clatters to the ground, and Izuku’s eyes widen in recognition as he sees the familiar light up close.

“Wait… were you the girl from the mall?” he asks, his voice filled with shock. “I’m so sorry for thinking you were older!”

You roll your eyes, stepping closer to him as he continues his rambling. His freckled cheeks flush as you reach out and cup them with your hands, gently pinching and squeezing them like he’s made out of rubber. The unexpected gesture causes him to freak out, his face growing even redder as he tries to process what’s happening.

“No, silly,” you say, your tone playful but firm. “Come on now, I’m not usually this open. One last try. I’ll even give you a hint.” You hold your hands up in the shape of a heart over your chest like your hero suit.

Izuku’s mind races, his cheeks still warm from your touch. He stares at you, searching for the answer, when suddenly it clicks. “You… you weren’t just the hero, were you? You’re Chargebomb !? ”

You smile, finally seeing the realization dawn on him. “Ding! Ding! Ding! There you go! I knew you’d figure it out.” You take your hands from his face and place them back on your hips.

Izuku looks at you with wide, curious eyes as the weight of your confession hangs in the air. You take a deep breath, realizing the gravity of what you’re about to reveal, and ask him, “Izuku, how much do you value honesty?”

He blinks at the question, a bit surprised. “I value it a lot. It’s important to be honest, especially with people you trust.” He’s so mature about it, how earnest he looks at you with those large green eyes. So clear you can see the reflection of his hands in them.

You sigh, still managing a small smile as you reach into your Juicy Couture purse, pulling out a large black cloak and a matching jumpsuit. Izuku’s eyes widen in recognition as he sees them.

You hold them out to him, and he takes them gingerly, running his fingers over the fabric. He looks up at you, shocked, the realization dawning on him as he recognizes the cloak and suit from the Chargebomb figure that sits on his desk. But then, caution fills his eyes, and he asks one simple question:

“Why?”

You pause, biting your tongue so hard that you taste the metallic tang of blood. Every second you don’t answer, his alarm grows, the tension between you both thickening. Finally, you reach out and take his metallic hand in both of yours, feeling the cool metal against your warm skin.

“I’m friends with your teacher, Midnight,” you begin, your voice steady but soft. “She requested that I take over her classes for a while. I wanted to get to know you all before stepping into that role because… well, I've never taught before and I sometimes suck at large social settings.”

Izuku nods gently, his expression a mixture of understanding and curiosity. He looks down at the mask in his hands, then back up at your face. “What?” you ask, noticing his contemplative gaze.

“How old are you?” he finally asks, his voice tentative.

“Twenty-six,” you reply honestly.

“Why do you look so young?” he asks, his brows furrowing in confusion.

“I take care of myself,” you answer with a smirk. “And next time we go outside, put some sunscreen on.”

Izuku nods, processing the information. “Are you really Chargebomb?”

Instead of answering verbally, you raise your free hand, jingling the bracelets on your wrist as you do. A burst of colorful energy releases from your palm, shooting into the open sky. Down below, you hear the faint sounds of awe from the students on the ground who catch sight of the display. It looks like a fireworks display was just set off that could make 'Merica proud. You pull your hand away and watch as the sky fades to its normal blueness and greet the sun once more. Turning away from the star in the sky, you find yourself meeting squishy broccoli once more.

“Okay,” he says, still wide-eyed but more accepting now.

“Anything else?” you ask, sensing there’s more he wants to know.

“Why do you wear all black?” he inquires, his tone genuinely curious.

“I like my privacy,” you reply simply, not giving too much away.

“Do you have any family in Japan?” he asks, his voice a bit softer now, as if treading carefully.

“Only Nemuri, Rumi, and Taishiro,” you say, your tone light but genuine. He nods heavily at this, absorbing the information.

“Does Aizawa know?” he asks, his voice a bit more serious now.

“Nope,” you say, popping the ‘P’ and flashing him a smile. The casualness of your response seems to catch him off guard, but he smiles back, a little more relaxed now that the initial shock has worn off.

Izuku looks at you with a new kind of respect in his eyes, mixed with the awe that only someone who’s learned something profound about someone they admire can feel. The rooftop feels quieter now, the breeze carrying away the tension that had built up between you.

“Thank you for telling me,” he says quietly, his voice filled with sincerity.

“Thank you for understanding,” you reply, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go.

As you both stand there, the last rays of the setting sun casting a warm glow over the rooftop, you feel a sense of peace. You’ve shared something deeply personal, something that could change how he sees you, but you know you’ve made the right choice.

“I should probably get going,” Izuku says after a moment, glancing towards the stairs.

“Yeah, you’re right,” you agree, taking one last look at the sky before turning to follow him. “But hey, remember what I said about sunscreen.”

He chuckles, a sound that makes you smile, and with that, he heads down the stairs, leaving you to stand alone on the rooftop, the breeze tugging at your hair.

As you watch him go, you feel a sense of accomplishment. You’ve made a connection, one that you hope will grow stronger in time. With a final glance at the setting sun, you turn and make your way down the stairs, ready to face whatever comes next.

Running to the lockers, you spot Denki and Mina standing outside the entrance, their gazes fixed on the sky. They’re animatedly discussing something when you accidentally bump into someone.

“Oh, sorry!” you say, steadying yourself as you look up to see Kirishima grinning down at you.

“No worries,” he says, his hand gently supporting your shoulder. He waves the others over, and Mina and Denki quickly join you, curiosity evident in their expressions.

“We just saw some crazy fireworks in the sky,” Kirishima says, excitement in his voice. “You didn’t have anything to do with that, did you?” His eyes sparkle with mischief, though his tone is light.

“Hope Aizawa didn’t lay into you too much.”

You smile, feeling a bit of warmth from their concern. “No, nothing too bad,” you reply, brushing off the encounter. “Aizawa’s just… well, you know how he is.”

By now, Izuku is already standing with Todoroki and Bakugou, who seem to be in the middle of a conversation. Mina and Denki make their way over to them, joined by the other girls and a few of the guys. They’re all chatting animatedly, but as they see you approach, they turn their attention to you.

“So, do you have any plans for the evening?” Mina asks, her eyes bright with interest. “We were thinking of maybe doing something fun before heading back.”

Denki nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, we could all hang out! Maybe grab something to eat or just chill somewhere.”

You feel the warmth of their camaraderie wrapping around you, and for a moment, the weight of everything you’ve been through today lifts slightly. You look at the eager faces around you, considering the offer.

Just as you're about to respond to the group’s suggestion, you hear a familiar voice call out your name. Turning around, you spot Rumi and Taishiro waving at you from a short distance away. You shrug sheepishly, giving the group a quick, apologetic smile.

"Give me one second," you tell them before jogging over to meet the two heroes.

"Hey, you coming home?" Rumi asks, a smirk playing on her lips. Taishiro stands beside her, his usual easygoing grin in place.

"Yeah, we’ve got some news to talk about," Taishiro adds, his tone light but with a hint of seriousness underneath.

You pause, a little torn. “Can it wait about two hours? I was planning to hang with the kiddos for a bit.”

Rumi raises an eyebrow, and Taishiro exchanges a look with her before smiling. “Sure, but you gotta be home in two hours, and be careful,” he agrees, his tone almost fatherly.

You smile in relief. “Thanks, I’ll meet you guys back in the teacher lounge. I won’t leave the kids until they’re all back at the dorms safely.”

Taishiro's smile deepens, a touch of pride evident. “I really like seeing you take stride with these kids. I can tell it’s making a difference. Kirishima looks more rested—thank you for that.”

You glance over at Kirishima, who’s laughing with Denki and Mina, his usual energy a bit more vibrant than earlier. "Just doing what I can," you reply, feeling a sense of fulfillment.

Rumi, meanwhile, is scanning the appearance of some of the other students, her eyes narrowing slightly as she takes in their conditions. It’s then that you notice Mic and Aizawa walking out of the front doors of the school. Aizawa’s gaze lands on you, and after a moment, he turns to Rumi, asking her for a word.

Kirishima, noticing Taishiro, starts walking over with you. As the students recognize the large, familiar hero, they greet him with excitement, asking how he’s doing. Some of them, particularly Mina and Denki, reach out for hugs or candy, which Taishiro gladly offers, laughing at what he calls the "sugar shake down."

You watch the scene with a soft smile, but your attention is drawn to Rumi and Aizawa. They’re talking quietly, and though you can’t hear everything, you catch bits and pieces of their conversation. Aizawa looks a little more tense than usual, his brows furrowed as Rumi responds with a mix of concern and frustration.

Just then, you catch Mic's gaze. He’s standing off to the side, watching you with a curious expression. When you meet his eyes, you press a finger to your lips, signaling for silence. He chuckles quietly through his nose, a playful grin spreading across his face as he gives you a subtle nod.

Rumi’s conversation with Aizawa seems to wrap up, and she glances back at you, her expression softening slightly. You can tell something serious was discussed, but for now, it’s pushed aside as she makes her way back over to you and Taishiro.

"Alright, don’t keep us waiting too long," Rumi says, her tone a bit lighter now. "And make sure these kids get back safely."

You nod, giving her a reassuring smile before turning back to the group, who are now eagerly waiting for you to join them.

You turn back to your ‘Classmates’ , but something catches your eye. The class, which was casually chatting moments ago, is now surrounded by a crowd of excited freshmen.

Bakugou, in particular, is at the center of the chaos. A gaggle of new freshman girls has cornered him, their eyes wide with admiration and awe. They’re practically vibrating with excitement as they bombard him with questions and compliments. Bakugou’s face is twisted in a mix of annoyance and sheer panic as he waves his arms in a futile attempt to ward them off.

“Get the hell away from me!” he barks, his voice rough with irritation. The girls, however, don’t seem to be deterred, their admiration only growing in intensity.

Midoriya and Kirishima, noticing Bakugou’s distress, rush over to help. Midoriya is trying to talk to the girls gently, his hands raised in a placating gesture. “Um, maybe you should give Kacchan some space...?” he suggests, his voice kind but a bit nervous.

Kirishima, meanwhile, is using his own body to create a barrier between Bakugou and the girls. “Hey, come on now, let’s give him some room!” he says with a grin, trying to diffuse the situation with his usual friendly energy.

Despite their efforts, the girls are relentless, their attention solely focused on the explosive blonde. Bakugou’s eyes are practically bulging out of his head as he snaps at them, “I said, FUCK OFF!”

Not far away, Todoroki is in a similar predicament, though his reaction is much more subdued. He’s surrounded by another group of freshmen, his face calm but his eyes betraying a sense of quiet desperation. The girls are fawning over him, their voices a flurry of compliments about his "coolness" and "handsome" appearance.

Todoroki’s usual stoic demeanor is crumbling slightly, his gaze darting around as if searching for an escape. However, unlike Bakugou, he’s too polite to yell at the girls, so he simply stands there, frozen in place.

Sero and Tokoyami, noticing Todoroki’s silent plea for help, exchange a glance before moving in. Sero tries to use his tape to gently guide the girls away, while Tokoyami, with his deep, calm voice, politely asks them to step back. “Please, allow him some space,” Tokoyami says, his tone firm yet respectful.

But even as they try to help, Iida steps in, attempting to take control of the situation. His hand chopping through the air in his usual authoritative manner, he declares, “Young ladies, this behavior is unbecoming! I must insist that you cease this at once!”

Unfortunately for Iida, his stern lecture backfires. The moment the girls turn their attention to him, they begin to oogle him, their eyes wide with fascination. Iida’s face turns ashen as they start bombarding him with questions about his hero costume and how he manages to be so "cool and disciplined."

For a moment, Iida looks utterly terrified, like a deer caught in headlights. His usually confident stance falters, and he stumbles over his words, completely flustered by the sudden attention. “Uh, w-well, you see, it’s important to maintain d-discipline—” he stammers, his glasses slipping down his nose as he tries to back away.

Ochako and Tsuyu quickly come to his rescue, slipping through the crowd and positioning themselves between Iida and the freshmen. “Okay, girls, let’s not,” Ochako says with a bright smile, while Tsuyu nods, adding, “It’s not fair to overwhelm him like this.”

The moment of relative calm after the freshmen invasion is abruptly interrupted when Jirou sighs in relief, crossing her arms. "Well, at least no one was moving in on the girls," she comments, clearly glad that the situation hadn’t spiraled completely out of control.

But just as she finishes speaking, a voice rings out from the crowd. "Hey, ponytail!" A random guy calls out, waving enthusiastically at Momo.

Jirou’s eyes widen, and she groans in frustration, muttering under her breath, "I jinxed it." Without missing a beat, she spins around, her expression hardening as she steps forward to defend Momo, who is visibly uncomfortable with the sudden attention. The remaining girls huddle closer together, with Jirou now standing in front of them, ready to fend off any unwanted advances.

As the chaos reignites, the class instinctively forms a protective circle, each student looking out for one another. Kirishima, Bakugou, and Sero are doing their best to keep the overly excited freshmen at bay, while Todoroki, though still a bit dazed, positions himself near the edge of the group, using his presence as a deterrent.

In the midst of the turmoil, Mineta, who had been trying to navigate through the crowd unnoticed, is almost trampled by the stampede of students. Thankfully, Shinso and Shoji swoop in just in time, lifting him out of harm’s way. Shinso’s expression is neutral, but there’s a flicker of sympathy in his eyes, while Shoji’s multiple arms provide the much-needed support to get Mineta back on his feet.

Ojiro, on the other hand, is busy holding up Toru, who, despite being invisible, is shocked to receive any attention at all. She giggles nervously, still not quite used to the idea of people noticing her despite her quirk. "I guess they really noticed me, huh?" she muses, her voice tinged with surprise.

Nearby, Aoyama has found his way over to you, his usual flamboyance slightly subdued by the commotion. He backs up to your side, offering a polite smile. "Pardonne Moi, but do you think you could do something to help calm things down?" he asks, his voice calm but hopeful.

You nod, your mind already working on a solution. Concentrating, you begin to release small, subtle bursts of your energy into the crowd. The effect is almost immediate. The once rowdy students start to slow down, their frantic movements becoming more languid. Taishiro, noticing what you’re doing, joins in, though his method is a bit more... traditional. He starts tossing the remaining candy from his pockets into the air, hoping to distract the students.

Unfortunately, the candy doesn’t have the desired effect—these kids are more interested in the heroes than in sweets. Taishiro scratches his head, chuckling to himself. "Guess kids these days don’t want no candy, huh?" he mutters.

Your energy, however, works wonders. The students around you begin to calm down, their excitement fading into a more passive, trance-like state. You seize the opportunity, speaking softly but firmly, “It’s time for all of the Freshmen to head back to their dorms.”

The idea settles into their minds, and soon, the crowd starts to disperse, moving almost like a herd of sheep, following your subtle guidance.

The class, still somewhat bewildered by the sudden change in atmosphere, exchanges confused glances before shrugging it off. Mina is the first to recover, spotting you and grabbing your arm with a grin. "Come on! We’re heading to a little bowling alley we hang out at sometimes!"

Todoroki, who has been quietly observing the situation, nods in agreement. "I’ll use my dad’s credit card to cover it," he mentions casually, earning a few chuckles from the group.

As you all start walking together, Izuku catches your eye. There’s a knowing smile on his face as he mouths a quick, heartfelt, "thank you." You return the smile, feeling a sense of warmth as the group begins to relax, the earlier tension melting away.

With Mina leading the way, the class chatters excitedly about the upcoming bowling match, their earlier encounters with the freshmen already fading into the background. As you walk alongside them, you can’t help but chuckle at the scene.

Bakugou is still grumbling under his breath, trying to shake off the lingering attention. Midoriya looks relieved that the situation didn’t escalate further, while Kirishima is still trying to keep things light, patting Bakugou on the back with a grin.

Todoroki, now free from the crowd, stands off to the side, quietly adjusting his tie, his expression returning to its usual calm. Sero and Tokoyami share a relieved glance, clearly glad they managed to help.

And Iida, poor Iida, is wiping sweat from his brow as Ochako and Tsuyu offer him reassuring smiles. “Thanks, you two,” he mutters, still looking a bit pale.

All around, the students are stretching and shaking off the remnants of the impromptu ambush, their movements a mix of relief and exhaustion. The air is filled with the sound of laughter and chatter as they regroup, the chaos of the moment slowly dissipating.

The sky above is tinged with the warm hues of late afternoon, the air crisp and filled with the promise of a relaxed evening. As you walk alongside the students, the excitement in the group is palpable, everyone chatting animatedly about the plans for the evening. It’s refreshing, seeing them so carefree after school.

The bowling alley comes into view, and you find yourself pleasantly surprised by how inviting it looks. The exterior has a charming, retro vibe with neon signs and a large marquee that flashes "Strike Zone & More!" The windows reveal a cozy interior bathed in warm light, and you can already hear the faint sounds of pins crashing and the hum of arcade machines.

As you all step inside, the first thing you notice is the decor. The carpet is surprisingly clean, not sticky as you’d half-expected, with a vibrant pattern of swirling colors that almost makes it feel like walking through a kaleidoscope. The walls are adorned with vintage posters of past bowling tournaments and neon-lit signs pointing to different sections: an off-room for pool, a row of older arcade games, a picture booth, and party rooms.

There’s even a karaoke bar tucked into the corner, the soft glow from its lights spilling out into the main area. The space feels larger than you anticipated, likely due to the joint roller rink next door, which gives everything a more spacious, airy feel.

The bowling alley itself is relatively empty, save for three employees who immediately catch your eye. One of them, a guy with elf-like ears and a brooding expression, has his face resting on the register, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.

His dark hair, styled in a way that oddly reminds you of Sasuke Uchiha, falls into his eyes. Another employee, with a head of spiky blonde hair and small, bright blue eyes, is energetically greeting everyone who walks in. His enthusiasm is infectious, but you notice Izuku visibly tensing up as he approaches.

Lastly, there’s a bubbly girl with space buns and the rest of her hair curling around her shoulders in soft purple waves. She’s the most calm and welcoming of the trio, her smile bright and genuine as she waves to the group.

“HEY GUYS!”

“Huh?”

There’s an instant buzz among the class as Mina, always quick with the information, explains to you who they are.

“That’s Tamaki Amajiki,” she points to the guy at the register, who seems content to stay slumped over the counter, “and over there is Mirio Togata. He’s the one with the blond hair.” Mina then gestures to the bubbly girl. “And that’s Nejire Hado. They were third-year students, and they’re amazing heroes now!” She smiles as she jingles your bracelets, “They decided to be part time mentors at UA, so we still see them in school sometimes.”

As the students begin to flock toward the trio, Kirishima’s expression turns concerned. He walks up to Tamaki, gently encouraging him to lift his face from the counter. “Hey, man, you alright? It’s not great to keep your face down like that.”

Tamaki slowly lifts his head, his expression still gloomy, but he gives Kirishima a nod of acknowledgment. “I’m okay… just… tired,” he mutters, trying to muster a small smile.

‘DAMN, his energy is so fucking heavy!’

Iida and Bakugou, surprisingly united in their stance, both shake their heads in disapproval. “It’s bad business practice,” Iida says, adjusting his glasses.

Bakugou grunts in agreement, crossing his arms. “Can’t have people thinking you’re shit on the job, idiot.”

Mirio, meanwhile, is completely unfazed by the exchange, his grin as wide as ever. “Welcome, welcome! Let’s get you all set up with some shoes!” He’s already grabbing pairs left and right, guessing sizes with impressive accuracy. His aura was a spicy mix of calm and underlying nerves.

Nejire, equally welcoming, has taken on the task of collecting food orders from the students, chatting with them as if they were old friends. Her presence is calming, and you can see the tension easing from Izuku’s shoulders as she reassures him with a friendly pat on the back. Her energy levels were consistent with her aura on high alert for some reason, weird.

As you observe all this, you realize just how dry your throat is after using your quirk so much throughout the day. You consider getting some food but decide against it, remembering your plans for dinner with Rumi and Taishiro.

Instead, you opt for a couple of water bottles from a nearby vending machine. Mina lets you go for the moment and you slam your coins into the slot to get that good kwenchy liquid.

‘Hehehe Cactus juice.’

Grabbing the bottles, you waste no time downing the first one in record time, the cool liquid refreshing your parched throat. You quickly follow it up with the second bottle, finishing it just as fast. A few of the students nearby notice and exchange concerned glances, but you just wave them off with a smile, feeling much better now that you’re hydrated.

Mina, ever the social butterfly, finds you again and links her arm with yours. “Come on, let’s get our lane! I can’t wait to see you bowl!” She’s practically bouncing with excitement as she pulls you along toward the lane that’s been set aside for your group.

The evening at the bowling alley was turning into a fierce competition, much to the amusement of everyone involved. It quickly became apparent that you were no novice when it came to bowling.

Your form was perfect, and each roll of the ball seemed to effortlessly find its way to a strike. The others had started to notice too, especially Bakugou, whose competitive streak had kicked into overdrive. The game had come down to just the two of you duking it out for the number one spot, and the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife.

Mineta, on the other hand, had not fared well. He was dead last, pouting in the corner as he watched the scoreboard with dismay. His frustrations were compounded when Iida, ever the picture of grace and discipline, had slipped on the floor during his turn, much to the shock of everyone. He had tried to recover with dignity, but the red flush on his cheeks was hard to miss.

Denki, in typical fashion, had managed to break one of the lanes, though how he did it remained a mystery. Jirou had promptly put him in "time out," her arms crossed and her foot tapping impatiently as she kept an eye on him. Denki slouched in his chair, looking thoroughly chastised but also a little amused at his own misfortune.

Kirishima had his own mishap when he accidentally cracked his bowling ball in half, much to his dismay. "I just put a little too much strength into it," he’d said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head as the others chuckled.

Todoroki, who had been more of an observer than a participant, needed encouragement from Izuku to even take a turn. It turned out that he just wanted to hang out with everyone and wasn’t too interested in bowling, but he eventually joined in, albeit with a quiet, reluctant smile.

Izuku, despite his own initial hesitation, wasn’t doing too badly. He had a steady game going, his concentration evident in the way he carefully lined up each shot. Sero, however, was giving everyone a run for their money, firmly holding onto third place. Each time he hit a strike, he would break out into a little salsa dance, much to the chagrin of Bakugou, who glared daggers at him every time.

The rest of the students were scattered around, either munching on snacks or trying their luck at the arcade games. Mina and Ochako were busy playing an old-school pinball machine, while Tsuyu and Momo were sharing a plate of nachos, chatting quietly between bites. Shoji and Shinso were deep in conversation near the pool tables, and Ojiro was helping Toru with one of the claw machines, though it was a bit challenging to tell with her being invisible.

As the final frame approached, it was neck-and-neck between you and Bakugou. The pressure was on, but you remained cool and focused. With one last swing of your arm, you sent the ball rolling down the lane, watching with satisfaction as it struck dead center, sending the pins flying. Another strike. You flashed Bakugou a triumphant grin before stepping aside to let him take his turn.

“Beat that,” you teased as you headed toward the restroom, giving Bakugou a little wave.

As you entered the bathroom, the atmosphere shifted. It was quieter, the sounds of the bowling alley muffled by the thick walls. The energy was dark and heavy with tints of You were just about to step into a stall when you heard a faint sniffling sound. You paused, your hand hovering over the door handle.

"Hello? Is someone there?" you called out gently, trying not to startle whoever it was.

There was no response at first, just the soft sound of someone trying to stifle their tears. You waited for a moment before deciding to close the door behind you. Flicking the lights on and off a couple of times, you hoped it might encourage the person to respond.

Finally, you heard a small, familiar voice coming from one of the stalls. "It's me… Toru."

Your heart sank a little as you realized it was Toru, usually so cheerful and upbeat. You approached the stall, your voice soft and concerned.

"Toru, what's going on? Are you okay?"

There was a pause before she spoke again, her voice trembling.

"I'm sorry… I didn’t mean to cry. I just… I feel so invisible sometimes!”

You could hear her sobbing pick up and your heart clenched at the sound of her voice. Toru, who seemed so bubbly and cheerful, sounded so vulnerable now. You approached the stall where she was hiding, your voice gentle and full of concern. "Toru, what’s wrong? What’s got you so upset?"

There was a pause, and for a moment you thought she might not answer. But then, through her sniffles, she spoke. "I just… I feel like people forget about me so easily. Just because I’m invisible, it’s like… it’s like I don’t matter as much, you know? And after everything that happened during the war, I keep thinking… what if I got hurt? What if I died? No one would even find me. I could just… disappear."

Her voice cracked, and you could hear the depth of her fear and pain. It was something she’d probably been carrying for a long time, something that had festered and grown until it overwhelmed her. You could understand why she’d feel that way—Toru’s quirk made her physically invisible, but it was clear that the emotional toll of feeling unseen was even more painful.

You knew you needed to do something to comfort her. Reaching into the stall next to hers, you grabbed a few sheets of toilet paper and slid them under the door to her stall. Then, you squatted down outside her door, leaning your back against it to give her some privacy, while still making it clear that you were there for her.

“Toru,” you began, your voice calm and reassuring, “I want you to know that what you’re feeling is completely valid. It’s okay to be scared and to have these thoughts. But you’re not alone, and you don’t have to carry this by yourself.”

You heard her sniffling again, but she didn’t speak. So, you continued, hoping your words could reach her.

“Just because you’re invisible doesn’t mean you’re forgotten or unimportant. You’re real, Toru. You’re here, and you matter to all of us. You’ve got a place in this class, in this world, that no one else can fill. And if something ever happened to you, we’d notice. We’d miss you. We wouldn’t stop searching for you. You’re part of our team, our family. We care about you so much.”

You could hear her breathing, steady but still shaky. She was listening, absorbing your words, and that encouraged you to keep going.

“I know it’s scary to think about what could have happened during the war, but you’re here now. You made it through, and that’s because you’re strong, Toru. You’ve got so much to offer, and we’d be hard-pressed to find someone in class who doesn’t think highly of you. And you’re more than just your quirk. You’re funny, you’re kind, and you’ve got this incredible spirit that lights up the room—even if we can’t see you, we can feel it.” You fussed with the smudged marker on your converse and decided to scrub them and start over after dinner.

There was a small, hesitant chuckle from the other side of the door, and it brought a soft smile to your face. You decided to keep pushing, to lighten the mood a little more.

“And besides,” you added with a teasing tone, “I’m pretty sure Ojiro would be the first one to notice if you weren’t around. Have you seen how he looks at you? He’s always got your back. Literally.”

Toru let out a small, watery laugh, the sound a mix of relief and lingering emotion. “You think so?” she asked, her voice still a little shaky, but there was a note of hope in it.

“I know so,” you replied confidently. “And you know what? You should give yourself more credit too. You’re more visible than you think, Toru. You’re the real deal, and you’re important to all of us.” Stop stood up from the floor and dusted your hands off.

There was a moment of silence, and then you heard the soft sound of the stall door unlocking. Toru stepped out, her form still invisible, but you could feel her weight as she hesitated before falling into your arms. You wrapped her in a comforting hug, holding her close as she finally let out all the emotions she’d been bottling up.

As you held her, you spoke softly. “See? You’re talking to me, I can feel your weight in my arms, and I know you’re here. You’re very much real, Toru. And we’re going to make sure you never forget that.”

She sniffled against your shoulder, her arms tightening around you as she took in your words. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice full of gratitude and relief. “I needed this.”

“Anytime,” you murmured back, rubbing her back soothingly. “Now, how about we splash some water on your face, and then we can head back out there? The others are probably wondering where we are.”

Toru nodded against your shoulder, and after a moment, she pulled back. Though you couldn’t see her face, you could feel the shift in her energy—she felt lighter, more at ease.

“Okay,” she said softly, heading over to the sink to wash her face. You could hear the water running and the faint sound of her taking deep breaths, grounding herself again.

As you waited for her to finish, you couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride. It wasn’t easy being a teacher, but moments like these made it all worth it. Knowing that you could be there for your students, that you could help them through their darkest moments, made every challenge worthwhile.

When Toru was ready, the two of you left the bathroom together. As you walked back toward the bowling lanes, side by side, you hoped that she’d come out of this more confident in who she was. And you’d be there to support her every step of the way in case she needed it.

The moment you walked out of the bathroom holding hands with Toru, a sudden realization hit you like a ton of bricks: you had completely forgotten to pee. With an awkward, apologetic smile, you quickly excused yourself and made a mad dash back to the restroom, leaving Toru to take your place in the bowling game.

When you emerged, feeling much more relieved, you were greeted by the sight of your students and some of the girls from Class 1-A gathered around the bowling lane, cheering enthusiastically. Toru was at the center of it all, standing confidently as she prepared to bowl.

With a smooth and graceful motion, she sent the ball down the lane, and you watched in amazement as it rolled straight into the pins, knocking them all down in one perfect strike. The cheers erupted even louder, and you couldn’t help but grin as you saw Ojiro rush over, lift her up, and twirl her around in celebration.

Toru’s presence was palpable in the room, despite her invisibility. You could practically feel her eyes on you as she beamed with pride, and you waved back at her, your heart swelling with joy at seeing her so happy and confident. It was a nice contrast to the tearful moment you’d just shared in the bathroom, and it made you realize just how strong she truly was.

As you glanced around the room, your eyes caught Izuku’s. He gave you a knowing smile, his expression full of warmth and understanding. You returned the smile and shrugged, as if to say, "Hey, Toru did all the work." It was a moment of unspoken camaraderie between you two, a shared pride in the progress your students were making.

Meanwhile, Bakugou was breathing deeply, his expression a mix of frustration and determination. Despite his best efforts, Toru had managed to clinch the victory from him, and you could see Kirishima patting him on the back, congratulating him for taking second place. Sero and Denki, on the other hand, were dancing around like they’d just won the lottery, doing their little salsa moves in celebration.

The entire scene was so full of life and energy that you couldn’t help but laugh. The Big Three—Mirio, Tamaki, and Nejire—were cheering along with the students, their enthusiasm infectious. Mirio’s booming voice echoed through the bowling alley as he clapped his hands together, while Nejire bounced on her toes, her excitement bubbling over.

Finally, Mirio called out, "Alright, everyone! Finish up your games because we’re closing in ten minutes!"

There was a collective groan from the students, but it was good-natured. They’d had their fun, and now it was time to wrap things up. You joined the group as they began to put away the bowling shoes and gather their belongings, the atmosphere filled with the warmth of shared experiences and laughter.

Toru, still beaming from her victory, gave you a quick hug as she passed by, and you returned it with a squeeze. "You did amazing, Toru," you whispered to her, and she giggled, her voice filled with happiness.

"Thanks! I couldn’t have done it without you," she replied, her invisible hand giving yours a quick squeeze before she joined the others.

As you all started gathering your things to leave, Mina suddenly grabbed your hand, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Wait, we have to take some pictures to commemorate the evening!" she exclaimed, pulling you toward the photo booth in the corner of the bowling alley.

Laughing, you let her drag you over, and the two of you squeezed into the small booth. The screen blinked to life, and you both threw up peace signs, making finger hearts and goofy faces as the camera clicked away. The energy between you and Mina was infectious, and soon, more of the girls joined in, piling into the booth with giggles and smiles.

You made sure to sit Toru in the middle, wrapping an arm around her invisible shoulders as Mina leaned in from the other side. On cue, you and Mina both kissed her cheeks just as the camera snapped another shot. Toru’s delighted laughter filled the booth, and you could feel the positive energy radiating from her, so much brighter than it had been earlier.

Before you knew it, Jirou and Momo were climbing in over you both, their laughter filling the tiny space. The booth became a chaotic jumble of limbs and laughter as you all tried to fit in, just as Denki, never one to miss out on the fun, threw himself into the booth with a dramatic flair, making everyone laugh even harder.

Realizing that everyone wanted to get in on the action, you kept feeding the machine more money, letting it take multiple photos of the entire class. Each new set of pictures captured a different group of students—everyone getting their turn to make silly faces and pose with their friends.

When it was all over, you paid for the copies, handing them out to each student as they gathered around. Mina protested, insisting she could pay her share, but before she could argue further, Todoroki and Momo both held up their cash, ready to contribute as well.

You just shrugged gently, waving them off with a smile. "Don’t worry about it. This one’s on me."

The mood was even more upbeat than before as everyone clutched their photo strips, grinning from ear to ear. The positive energy in the air was almost tangible, swirling around you like a comforting blanket. It was moments like this that reminded you of why you cared so much for these kids—why you would do anything to see them smile.

As the last of the photos were distributed, you noticed the Big Three near the entrance, their jackets on and ready to leave. You glanced at the clock—6 p.m. already. Time had flown by so quickly. Concerned, you called out to them, "Do you guys have a ride home?"

Your adult is showing!!~

Mirio grinned, throwing an arm around Tamaki’s shoulders. "Yep! It’s Tamaki’s turn to drive us home tonight." Tamaki, still looking a bit shy but determined, nodded. "Yeah, I’ve got it."

They offered to walk you all to the dorms, but you gently declined, knowing it was better for everyone to head out in different directions. As you and your friends filed out of the bowling alley, Mina and Toru took hold of your hands, their fingers warm and comforting in yours.

As the group slowly made their way out of the doors, the night air hit you, cool and refreshing after the excitement inside. You walked alongside your students, feeling a deep sense of contentment. They had all grown so much, and moments like this reminded you just how much you cared for them—and how much they cared for each other.

With the Big Three waving goodbye as they closed up the bowling alley, you smiled at all the memories you’d made tonight.

You looked up, the sky painted with hues of pink and orange as the sun began to set. The walk back to the dorms was filled with chatter and laughter, everyone still riding the high from the evening’s fun.

As you walked, you felt Toru’s hand squeeze yours a little tighter. You glanced over and saw her looking at you, her eyes—though invisible—clearly filled with gratitude and happiness. You smiled back at her, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze in return.

You continued walking with Mina and Toru at your sides, and couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of contentment.

Today was a good day.

The walk back to the dorms was almost quiet, the group more subdued after the excitement of the evening. Laughter had faded into a comfortable silence, with only the occasional murmur of conversation breaking the stillness. As you neared the entrance to the dorms, you felt the familiar sense of responsibility settle over you. It was time to say goodbye.

You stopped at the gates, turning to face the class. "Alright, guys, this is where we part ways."

A few of the students looked confused, and Momo was the first to ask, "You're not staying with us?"

You shook your head with a small smile. "Nah, I’ve got to take the subway home."

Immediately, concern washed over their faces. Momo's eyes narrowed in thought, and she placed a hand on her chin. "I could make you a taser. It would only take a few minutes."

Kirishima nodded in agreement. "Or I could walk you to the subway at least. Just to make sure you're safe, y’know? It’s no trouble at all."

You couldn’t help but smile at their protectiveness. "I appreciate it, really, but I'll be fine." Gently, you reached out with your quirk, sensing the restless energy radiating off them. Though they were trying to be brave, you could feel the lingering excitement and concern making it hard for them to wind down.

Tapping into your power, you sent a calming pulse through the air. Their energy spiked briefly as if awakened by a fresh burst of energy, and then, almost instantly, it began to ebb away. You could feel it working, see it in the way their shoulders relaxed, how their eyelids grew heavier.

Denki yawned, eyes fluttering as he blinked up at you. "Man, I don’t know why, but I’m suddenly so tired," he muttered, swaying on his feet.

Shinsou, standing next to him, wasn’t faring much better. His head bobbed slightly as he fought to stay awake. Before anyone could even react, both of them slumped onto the sofa in the common room, fast asleep before they could even make it to their beds.

Sero, ever the laid-back type, lazily stretched out on two chairs, somehow finding a comfortable position despite the awkward setup. "I’m just gonna... rest here for a minute," he mumbled, eyes closing as he dozed off.

You chuckled softly, watching as the others began to shuffle off toward their rooms. Mina waved sleepily, her steps dragging as she wished you goodnight. Even Bakugou, though still grumbling, couldn’t hide his exhaustion. He scowled, muttering something about it being past 8:30 as he made his way upstairs.

Kirishima shot you one last concerned glance, his fatigue evident in the way he rubbed at his eyes. "You sure you're okay? I could walk you—"

You waved him off with a gentle smile. "I’m sure. You all need your rest. I’ll be fine, I promise."

Reluctantly, he nodded, finally heading inside with the others. As the dorm doors closed behind them, you took a deep breath, feeling the night settle in around you. The city skyline glowed in the distance, and the air was crisp and cool against your skin.

You sighed, both tired and content as you began walking toward the doors. The evening had been more eventful than you anticipated, but seeing the kids so happy—and knowing you had helped ease their restlessness—made it all worth it.

With each step, the echoes of the night’s laughter and joy accompanied you, and though you walked alone now, the warmth of their care stayed with you long after.

As you wave one last time to the last sleepy students disappearing into the dorms, you turn to leave—only to almost trip over Aoyama, who had somehow sprawled out on the ground near the door.

"Oops, sorry!" you whisper, stepping over him carefully as he lets out a dramatic sigh, his sparkling face shining even in the dim light.

With a soft chuckle, you manage to navigate your way past the dorms, out of the back security gate, and into the cool night air. Pulling your phone from your pocket, you dial Rumi, ready to drop your location.

She answers immediately, her voice loud and enthusiastic. "Yo! Where you at? Me and Taishi are chilling in the teacher's lounge. Come up when you're done babysitting!"

A small smile tugs at your lips as you nod, even though she can’t see you. "On my way now. Be there soon."

Hanging up, you start walking through the quiet grounds, eventually slipping into the main building. But as you make your way deeper into the hallways, you can’t help but feel the creeping eeriness of the place. The school at night feels vastly different than it does during the day. The corridors seem to stretch on forever, with each corner you turn feeling like another maze to solve. Every creak and soft shuffle echoes unnaturally, the emptiness making it all the more unsettling.

Your pace quickens slightly as you notice the pools of light spilling in through random windows, leaving sharp patches of brightness on the floor. You instinctively avoid them, staying close to the walls and shadows, a habit from your quirk training that kicks in without thinking.

A cold shiver runs down your spine as the flickering fluorescent lights above buzz louder, the hum blending with the deep silence around you. You shake your head, smiling to yourself. ‘ It’s just a school,’ you remind yourself.

‘No big deal.’

Deciding to shake off the discomfort, you square your shoulders, lifting your chin and walking straight through the dim patches of darkness. You could feel your pulse steadying as you moved forward confidently, determined not to let a few creepy hallways get to you.

It takes you a good fifteen minutes to navigate the winding halls before you finally arrive at the teacher's lounge. The door is slightly ajar, and as you approach, you can hear a deep, mournful wail coming from inside.

‘What on earth...?’

With a sigh of relief, you push open the door, stepping into the warm, comfortable light and inside to a strange scene. Rumi is sitting casually on the edge of a desk, her sharp ruby eyes already locked onto you as she flashes you a quick grin. Beside her, Taishiro is hunched over in an attempt to comfort a large, muscular man with shaggy blond hair—who, to your surprise, is wearing what looks like a muzzle.

The man, now identified by the loud, heart-wrenching sobs he's emitting, is slumped over at his desk. His head is buried in his arms, his body shaking with each cry. Taishiro’s massive hand is patting his back in a gentle, but somewhat awkward rhythm.

Rumi’s grin widens as she waves you over, throwing an arm around your shoulders as you approach. She leans down, her voice a low whisper in your ear, "That's Hound Dog. Fitting, right?" She snickers softly before pulling back.

"He's the school’s guidance counselor," she continues, keeping her voice low as she gestures toward the distressed man. "Poor guy's going through it."

Hound Dog lifts his head briefly, revealing watery, red eyes. “It’s driving me crazy!” he howls, his voice raw with emotion, before burying his face back into his desk.

“He’s been like this for the past hour,” Taishiro says softly, his tone heavy with sympathy as he glances at you and Rumi. “Really cares about the kids.”

Rumi rolls her eyes slightly, but her smile is warm as she leans against the desk. “Yeah, yeah, we get it. But seriously, he’s worried that the students aren’t getting enough help. Wants more people to come in to support ‘em, but he’s stuck with all the red tape. Hiring processes and training and whatnot.” She waves her hand dismissively. Hound Dog lets out another anguished cry.

“I love them! I really do!”

He bangs his fists on the desk, rattling everything on it. “I’ve known some of these students since they were freshmen! I’ve watched them grow!” His voice cracks with the weight of his emotions. “But damn it, I can’t help them if they won’t open up! And they need more help, more attention, more people to make sure they’re getting what they deserve!”

Taishiro, ever the patient one, tries again to soothe him. “You’re doing your best, man. We all see how hard you’re working. And you’re right, they do need more support, but you can’t carry that weight all on your own.”

Hound Dog growls in frustration, slamming his hands down again, the sound resonating through the room. “It’s not enough! I’m just one person! And the process to bring in a team? It’s so slow, so frustrating! The students are the ones suffering for it!”

Rumi squeezes your shoulder lightly, her breath tickling your ear as she murmurs, “He’s not wrong, y’know. The kids have been through hell, and he’s barely keeping it together trying to be there for all of them.”

You nod in understanding, taking in the sheer weight of Hound Dog’s frustrations. His dedication is undeniable, but the system is slow, and the students need more immediate help than it can currently offer. You can see how much this is tearing him apart.

Rumi tilts her head back and sighs, clearly empathizing but also not entirely sure how to help at the moment. "This job isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, huh?" she says quietly, her usual cocky tone tempered with genuine concern. You think back to your own interactions with the students earlier today, their struggles still fresh in your mind. You’ve been around them for only a short time, and you can already sense how deep their trauma runs. What Hound Dog’s dealing with? It must be crushing.

“Hey,” you speak up gently, your voice soft but firm, “You’re right—this is tough, and it’s not fair for you to bear all of this on your own. The students do need more help. But for now, even just you being there for them, even if they don’t always open up right away, it matters. They notice.”

Hound Dog sniffles, his red eyes meeting yours through the muzzle. “But... it’s not enough,” he mutters, his voice thick with emotion.

“No, it’s not,” you admit, kneeling beside his desk to meet his gaze more closely. “But you’re doing what you can, and they know that. And when they’re ready, they’ll come to you. You can’t force them to open up, but you can keep showing them that you’re there. That means something. A lot, actually.”

There’s a brief pause as your words settle in, and Hound Dog nods in agreement, the corners of his eyes crinkling in what you assume is a smile from the support.

“You’re very bright young lady! Have you ever considered becoming a lifestyle guidance counselor?”

You all burst out laughing as he gives you a firm pat on the shoulder that almost knocks you off balance before Taishi grabs your bag to steady you. In return, Rumi hops down and pats Hound Dog’s back a bit harder, her playful nature returning. “See, you’re doing good, mutt! Keep it up, and we’ll get those reinforcements soon enough.” She winks at you, then adds, “And maybe we can steal this one to help out, too, huh?”

You chuckle softly, not missing the subtle suggestion, though you’re not sure if it’s just Rumi being Rumi or a genuine thought. Either way, the mood in the room feels just a little lighter.

As Hound Dog’s sobs finally began to subside, he sniffled a few times before rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. He glanced over at you, seeming to register your presence for the first time, his brows furrowing in confusion.

“Wait… why is there a student here after hours?” he barked, his gruff voice now more composed, though still heavy with lingering emotion. His eyes darted between you and Rumi.

'Shiiiiit.'

Without missing a beat, Rumi tightened her arm around your shoulders, her casual demeanor making the sudden cover-up seem like second nature. “Oh, don’t worry about that. She’s not just any student,” she said, her grin sly but her tone firm. “She’s my mentee. I’ll be taking her home after this.”

Hound Dog, still slightly suspicious but clearly too exhausted to press the matter, blinked and then nodded. “Alright… well, just make sure she gets home safe,” he said with a resigned sigh. His massive hand rubbed his muzzle as he stood up from the desk, towering over all of you. His gaze softened as he looked at you again, his voice much gentler now. “I’ll see if I can speed up the paperwork to get you into the dorms. It’s safer there.”

You nodded back at him, offering a small smile of gratitude. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Taishiro gave you a look, shaking his head in silent amusement as if to say ‘ What are you getting yourself into now?’ You could only shrug back in return. You wanted to play along as long as you could and besides, now you knew a staff member that could help in your plan.

With that, Hound Dog took a deep breath and trudged toward the door, his large boots thudding against the floor. “Goodnight all,” he muttered, his voice still weary.

“Goodnight, Hound Dog,” Taishiro said warmly, watching him go.

You all stood in silence for a moment, listening to the fading sound of his footsteps echoing down the hall until the door finally clicked shut.

The room suddenly felt quieter, as if the air had become stiller in his absence. You let out a long breath, tension you hadn’t realized you were holding finally releasing from your chest.

The teacher’s lounge seemed… different now. The once cozy warmth of the room had shifted, and you couldn’t ignore the subtle chill creeping in through the dark windows. A thin layer of condensation had gathered on the glass, distorting the view outside, and making the room feel even more closed off from the world.

Rumi stretched her arms above her head, her casual demeanor returning. “So… did you spoil your dinner, or what?” she asked, her sharp ruby eyes glinting mischievously as she leaned back against the desk again.

You shook your head, your lips curving into a slight smile despite the weight still pressing on your chest. “No, I’m fine.”

You stepped away from them, your eyes catching the familiar sight of a desk on the far side of the room—Nemuri's desk. It stood there, untouched, like a ghost in the corner of your vision. The sight of it was enough to pull you across the room without another thought.

Your fingertips grazed the surface of the desk as you approached, running lightly along the smooth edge. There was a subtle warmth to the wood, but it felt different now, colder than you remembered. The chair tucked beneath it was slightly pushed out, as if Nemuri had only stepped away for a moment and could come back any second.

But you knew she wouldn’t.

The urge to sit down overwhelmed you for a moment, a fleeting desire to feel closer to her, to feel her presence and pretend she was still here. But you couldn’t.

You just… couldn’t.

It wasn’t right. Instead, you stood there, fingers lightly tapping against the back of her chair. The leather was cool beneath your touch, the faint scent of her perfume still lingering in the air around you—soft, familiar, intoxicating in a way that was distinctly her.

It made your chest ache.

She wasn’t just your mentor. She wasn’t just your colleague. Kayama was someone to you. And you couldn’t quite put a label on it. She was like a mother, an aunt, a sister—none of those roles really fit, but at the same time, she was all of them wrapped into one.

Nemuri Kayama was family. Blood didn’t matter. She saved you, in ways that no one else had, or maybe even could. She had been a constant in your life, someone you leaned on, someone you loved deeply.

And now she was lying in a hospital bed, her life hanging in the balance.

You swallowed the lump in your throat as your hand drifted over the desk, pausing at the drawer handles. They’d been replaced with little bars shaped like handcuffs—of course. You couldn’t help the soft chuckle that escaped you, though it was tinged with sadness.

Typical Mimi, always leaving her personal touch on everything, even the most mundane things. It made you smile, but at the same time, it felt like someone had taken a knife and twisted it in your chest.

The reality of her absence hit you harder than ever in that moment. Seeing her desk, the place where she’d spent so much time, the place she’d talked about so often, now cold and empty—it killed you inside.

You missed her. God, you missed her so much it hurt.

Your fingers drummed lightly against the chair, your eyes misting over as you stood there in silence, feeling her presence even though she wasn’t there. She was everywhere and nowhere, and that was the hardest part. Rumi’s voice cut through the silence, softer than before.

“You good?”

You didn’t answer right away, your eyes still locked on the desk, but you nodded. “Yeah,” you murmured, though your voice felt distant. “Just… thinking.” Rumi let out a slow breath beside you. She didn’t say anything else, but you felt her presence at your side, solid and unwavering.

She knew. She didn’t need to ask more.

The room had grown colder, the night pressing in from outside. The windows, now fogged with condensation, reflected your blurred image back at you. The ticking of the clock on the wall was the only sound, each second a reminder of time passing, of moments slipping away.

You took one last look at Nemuri’s desk, your heart heavy but full of love for the woman who had meant so much to you. Then, with a deep breath, you stepped away, forcing a smile as you turned back to Rumi and Taishiro.

"She’s still with us, you know," Rumi said, her voice low but firm.

"Nemuri. She’ll pull through."

You nodded, though you weren’t sure if you were trying to convince her, or yourself. But it didn’t matter. For now, you just had to hold on to the hope that Rumi was right.

You could feel that same ache in your chest, the one that always surfaced when you thought about how close Nemuri had come to dying. But in that moment, you realized something important—no matter what happened, she would always be family to you. That wasn’t going to change.

For now, that's enough to keep you moving forward.

You shake your head, trying to push away the heaviness in your chest. There’s no point in dwelling on it right now—you’ve still got work to do. Opening your bag, you pull out a packet of disinfectant wipes. The familiar scent of lemon fills the air as you get to work, your hands moving automatically, as if cleaning could somehow clear your mind as well.

You start with Nemuri’s desk, running the wipe across the surface, the candles, and the essential oil bottles she kept arranged so neatly. Each object feels so personal, so distinctly her. You dust off the surface, your fingers grazing the edges of her history books, brushing away weeks of settled neglect. The quiet shuffle of pages makes the room feel less empty, like she’s still here, guiding you with every motion.

Her magazines are next. You reorganize them, stacking them neatly on the corner of her desk, though it’s hard to resist flipping through the pages to see if she’d left any more of her colorful sticky notes inside. The plush purple velvet armchair sits to the side, a favorite of hers. You give it a firm whack, sending a small cloud of dust into the air. It catches the dim light, tiny particles swirling before they settle again.

As you work, your fingers linger over the smaller details of her desk—her glasses case, the one you’d seen her pull from countless times. You gingerly open it, revealing the familiar red frames inside. A sad smile tugs at your lips as you pull them out, wiping the lenses with the proper cloth. The action feels intimate, like you’re caring for a piece of her. When you settle them back in the case, the click of the lid closing echoes softly in the quiet room. You place them back in their spot,

exactly how she left them.

“Gonna go grab my bag from the gym,” Taishiro says, breaking the silence as he stretches his arms over his head. “Left it there by accident. I’ll be right back.”

Rumi pushes herself off the desk, her eyes darting toward the door. “Yeah, I’ll be back in a sec. Gotta take a waz before we head out.” Her voice is casual, like it’s any other night, but you know she can feel it too—the heaviness hanging in the air.

You nod to both of them, giving a weak smile as they exit the room. The door swings closed behind them, leaving you alone. The silence feels thicker now, heavier. You avoid looking at Aizawa’s desk on the opposite side of the room. His presence feels like a looming shadow you’re not ready to face just yet.

Instead, you settle on the floor by Nemuri’s desk, pulling one of her textbooks into your lap. The pages are thick beneath your fingers, and you can’t help but take in the smell of the old paper—a mix of age, perfume, and the faintest trace of ink. Nemuri’s writing is everywhere, little scribbles in the margins, sticky notes marking important sections. Her handwriting is as familiar to you as your own, the quick loops of her letters reminding you of the notes she used to leave in your folder during those days when she’d taught you more than any class ever could.

'What would I give to have you here right now? I miss you.'

You blink hard, trying to push back the wave of emotion rising inside you. Tears prickle at the edges of your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. Suicide 'fore you let a tear fall down your eye. You have to focus, keep moving, keep.... reading. You lean in closer to the textbook, skimming the words, though they blur slightly from the exhaustion and emotions swirling inside you.

Still, you take in everything—the smell of the pages, the feel of Nemuri’s familiar notes under your fingers. You’re catching up on what you’ll be teaching the kids next week, but more than that, you’re clinging to this connection, this small piece of her that’s still here.

'I wish you were here.'

Your quirk leaves a faint buzz in your body from earlier, a soft hum of energy spent from soothing the students. It dulls your senses slightly, making the room feel distant, your mind slipping into the rhythm of turning pages, tracing her handwriting. You’re wrapped up in it all—emotion, exhaustion, memories. So much so that you don’t hear the shift in the atmosphere around you. You don’t hear the approaching footsteps, heavier than Rumi’s or Taishiro’s, echoing down the hallway. The soft thud of boots against the floor doesn’t register.

It’s not until the shadow falls over you, cutting through the dim light, that the hairs on the back of your neck prickle in warning. You freeze, fingers still pressed against the textbook’s spine. Slowly, you lift your gaze.

Standing above you, glaring down with a harsh intensity, his dark, messy hair framing his face, eyes narrowed in suspicion. He’s silent, but his posture radiates disapproval. You feel a chill crawl down your spine.

“What are you doing?”

“AHHHHH!”

Taglist: @elarakive, @thealtofvalleyxdoodles, @naladrawssss, @bakugouswaif, @ivydoesit23 @zennypiee Lemme know if you wanna be added!

Here is the first chapter! Just updated on my ao3 account.

The master list for this.

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