The U.A. training grounds were silent under the glow of the moon, the stars scattered like shards of glass across the night sky. You had stayed late, helping to clean up after a particularly intense training session with the students. Most of the other staff had gone home, but you liked these quiet hours when the school seemed to exhale and relax.

You stretched, feeling the ache in your muscles, and made your way toward the staff lounge. As you pushed the door open, you weren’t surprised to see Shouta Aizawa already there, sitting on the couch with his capture weapon draped loosely around him.

“Still here?” you asked, setting your things down on the table.

He didn’t even look up from the papers in his lap. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”