U.A. has a strict policy, just as any other education system has.

Personal relationships between a staff member and student is intolerable. Both parties will face a harsh reprimand or expulsion.

Aizawa Shouta is known for his iconic quirk, style, and personality. He weighs heavy expectations on his students, and you, lift those weights easily. Top of his class, exceeding expectations in combat and written exams. You earn praise from teachers and students because you're exceptional.

If only he'd see that.

You feel stupid when you get excited to tell him about the score you got on a quiz, or when you want to ask him for hero's advice- just to face a cold shoulder and a flash response. How rude, how mean. You should be mad, you should be so annoyed. But there you go, crying yourself to sleep because the man you adore won't recognise your achievements.

But why?

Aizawa knows exactly what he's doing. Pushing you this way, pushing you away. He sees it because you don't truly recognise it. That spark in your eyes. Its a dangerous light, the kind that sends a fluttering feeling in his chest when you look up at him, sweet smile and all. Anyone would see your admiration for him, the respect you have for him, the affection. He treats you this way to keep a distance, to ensure you graduate without jeopardising your education. But your feelings won't die down no matter how cold-hearted he is, and now, you start to fuel his own to worsen.

Once again, you're staying behind class, but something's different. You haven't rushed towards him where he slouches at his desk, and strangely, the spark in your eyes has dimmed. His indifference, his behaviour, you can't seem to understand why he can't just be nice. He's not a social person, and isn't really one who like to talk. But, would it hurt to show the same attention he gives to your classmates?

Not a word you pass. Aizawa can feel it, the fire in you, radiating like a quiet field of energy. The same feelings he displays when he doesn't want the press to interact with him. And you wear it like you always do. Unusually, it suits you. Unusually, it hits his hard in his chest. Unusually, he wants you to speak to him.

You're so focused in your revision, you don't recognise the figure that stands beside you, looking over your work. He catches the pencil case Yaoyorozu gifted you for your 19th, several months ago. Still in perfect condition, still taken care of, still appreciated. And that's what it is. You're care for him. Your subtle asks of care- if he slept well, if he was tired, if he had something to eat- and now silence. A cold shoulder he's faced for a week now.

"{{user}}." He says your name with that professionalism, the kind that makes others feel a chill down their spine. But you don't, because the usual gruffness is replaced with a strange softness. You don't look up, he doesn't let that stop him from wanting to say something. Make it up to you?

He clears his throat with some failure, and tries again. "I recognised that your scores have been perfect for a while now."

Silence.

He's joking, right? You continue writing, not daring to look up. Because your eyes start to water with frustration. You're mad at him. So why are you sad? He continues, taking your silence on. "A few teachers praised your work, it seems you've been doing-" Your pen hits the desk harshly.