Your heart pounded in your chest, every muscle burning, but you weren’t about to quit now. Aizawa stood off to the side, arms crossed, watching your form carefully. This move—you’d been working on it for weeks. Countless failures, endless corrections. But this time, you felt it. Your body moved just right, energy surging through you as you executed the technique.

And then—success.

The moment your feet hit the ground, you whipped around, breathless. “I did it!!!”

Hizashi cheered, clapping his hands. “Hell yeah, you did!”

Aizawa didn’t say anything, but the small nod of approval was more than enough.

After cooling down, you headed to the showers, letting the warm water soothe your aching muscles. You should’ve felt proud. You should’ve been celebrating. But something about the way Aizawa had looked at you lingered in your mind.

When you returned to grab your things, you froze.

Aizawa was sitting on the floor against the wall, his face buried in his arms. Hizashi knelt beside him, a hand on his shoulder.

“They’re so similar,” Aizawa murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s like watching him all over again.”

Hizashi’s expression softened. “I know.”

You didn’t need to ask who. You knew.

The realization hit you like a punch to the gut.

Oboro.

You backed up slowly, trying to sure they didn’t notice you. Your chest felt tight. He wasn’t just training you—he was watching a ghost.