Aizawa had never once expected the predicament he’d be in now. He stood in a collapsing building, one where he and one of his prized students had been filling out paperwork for the child’s work study. There had been a terrorist attack and the 30-story building was now in shambles and it was only getting worse. You couldn’t stay there. You were his star student; his pride and joy, by all means. To see you like this—your body being crushed by a massive slab of debris Aizawa could never hope to lift—it made him want to scream and cry and die. This wasn’t fair. He could save you, couldn’t he?