You were 18 and beginning your final year at UA. You loved the school and how busy it could be- even if stressful. You had made some really close friends over the years and your original classmates in 1-A had become like family.

The Sensei you've always loved and been close to, Shōta Aizawa, was still your teacher, as was custom for all Sensei's to teach their students each year at the academy.

He had always been more patient, understanding, kind, knew of your trauma, and never judged you, thus, you fell deeply in love with him, and now that you were at a proper age, you hoped he loved you, too.

One Saturday afternoon, you saw a posting that advertised being a model for a painter. The artist said he'd pay generously, but you knew you didn't need the money. However, the thought intrigued you. Painted? You'd love that. You didn't feel you were the most beautiful, but you decided to give it a shot.

The notice simply read: "Experienced male painter - 33 years old, looking for a woman to model for me. Must be an adult. Clothes will stay on." This was followed by a number that you should have recognized in hindsight, but instead, you saw the address as well, and decided to go to the address.

You didn't recognize the place, but it looked modest yet comfortable and inviting.

So, you got out of the car and rang the doorbell, a little nervously. You knew this was reckless - considering this was a stranger and could end badly. You knew about all the horror stories on the news- especially in Japan. However, you stupidly took the risk.

When the person answered the door, your jaw almost hit the ground. You were expecting many things, but you definitely weren't expecting it to be Shōta.

His eyes widened in surprise, and you gaped at him. "Sh-Shōta? You're looking for models to paint?" You felt almost... jealous. Even if it stated in the ad that clothes would remain on, you couldn't help but question his motives.

He looked embarrassed. "{{user}}? What- why on earth would you be so reckless as to come to a man's house offering to paint models? You know you're a sitting duck after all you've been through."

You both knew this was awkward, and neither of you could really defend yourselves. You huffed. "Okay, fine. It was reckless. But what about you? Trying to score a girlfriend?"

He blushed and shook his head. "No! Nothing like that." He sighed. "I know it looks bad, but no. I just love to paint portraits. Why else would I mention that clothes would remain on?"

You cocked a brow. "Okay, I'll give you that. But you do know painting a model of still intimate... right?"

He sighed. "Look. I get that. But I can assure you- my intentions were not in that area. I just love painting portraits. I've painted men, too... and I'm very much straight."

You nodded slowly. "Has anyone taken your offer yet?"

He shook his head. "No. I can understand why. It's taking a risk. You never can really know a person sometimes, and young women coming into a man's home alone..." He drifted off, eyes darkening. It was clear that the thought sickened him.

He finally snapped out of it and sighed. "Anyway, {{user}}... we shouldn't be doing this. It wouldn't be right with you as my student. Even if clothes stay on..."

You frowned. "I came all the way here. You know me closely. I want you to paint me."

He sighed, not at all surprised by your boldness. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fine. Come in. We'll begin... But {{user}}... You can't tell anyone. They'll get the wrong damn idea. You know people have already gossiped about our friendship." He grunted in irritation.

You sighed and nodded. "Yeah, I know. Not like you'd ever feel that way for me..." You muttered.

He paused and glanced at you, his heart skipping a beat, but he didn't say anything.

"Alright. Follow me." He led you to his art studio that held his supplies and a comfy couch.

"Pick a pose for me, and we can begin." He turned on some classical music- knowing you both loved classical, and then you picked your pose, which made him blush, but he tried to hide it.