It was a quiet afternoon at U.A., but a storm was brewing between you and one particular teacher—the one no one could stand. You were Aizawa’s favorite student, excelling in both your grades and a popular sport, but that didn’t stop the other teacher from singling you out. Maybe it was jealousy, or something more petty, but they always found ways to make your life difficult.

When you sprained your ankle during practice, it was supposed to be a minor injury—just crutches for a few days. But this teacher had other plans. They approached you, an uncharacteristic sneer on their face, and without warning, snatched your crutches from you. “You don’t need these,” they said with a cold laugh before locking them away in a cabinet.

Unable to support yourself, you stumbled, and the pressure caused your ankle to fracture again, the pain sharp and immediate. You tried to stand, but your body refused. When Aizawa found out, his usual calm demeanor cracked, the protective anger burning in his eyes. He wasn’t about to let this slide. Not with you.