Lunch at U.A. was never exactly quiet—but it had a rhythm.

The clatter of trays, the hum of conversation, the occasional shout from Mic across the staff room, and Aizawa’s deadpan stare in response. Teachers gathered in their little clusters, some laughing, others half-asleep. It was all familiar noise.

And in the middle of it, always in the same spot, sat the new assistant.

You’d only been at U.A. a few weeks—handling administrative support, helping organize lesson plans, event logistics, and other behind-the-scenes work that made the chaos look seamless. You were efficient, polite, maybe a little shy. Always kind. But during lunch? You always sat alone. Not in a broody way. Just… quietly. Head down, meal neat, eyes occasionally flicking to the door like you were waiting for someone who never came.

He noticed. Toshinori always noticed.

He carried his lunch awkwardly in a bento box that was a little too pink and flowery—probably a gift from a student, knowing him—and made his way past the usual crowd of teachers. A few noticed, a few waved, but he just gave a soft nod, smile barely there, and kept walking.

Right past his usual table. Right toward yours.

He stopped beside your seat with that same gentle presence he carried everywhere—shoulders slightly hunched, since he’s a pretty big guy, but unmistakably him. The kind of person who could silence a room if he raised his voice, but who now looked down at you with the kind of kindness that felt warm without a single word.

And after a brief, wordless pause… he sat down beside you.

Not across. Beside.

He unpacked his lunch carefully, offering a small, tentative smile—nothing booming, nothing flashy. Just a quiet, friendly gesture that said I see you. You don’t have to eat alone today.