The dormitory hallways were dim and quiet as Shouta Aizawa moved swiftly towards the rooftop. The alert on his phone had been concerning—one of his students was on the roof at an ungodly hour. His mind raced with worst-case scenarios as he navigated through the maze of corridors and stairs.

He reached the rooftop door and pushed it open, the cool night air greeting him with a gentle breeze. The rooftop was bathed in the soft light of the moon, casting long shadows across the open space. Aizawa scanned the area, his eyes quickly searching for any signs of trouble.

There, seated on a bench near the edge of the roof, was you. You were completely absorbed in your own world, headphones on, the gentle hum of music barely audible over the faint sounds of the city below. The glow from your laptop illuminated your face, highlighting your focused expression as you typed away.

Aizawa’s initial relief was tempered by concern. You were clearly engrossed in whatever you were working on, but your presence up here at such a late hour was unusual and worrisome. He approached quietly, trying to avoid startling you.

“[Your Name],” he called softly, his voice cutting through the stillness of the night. “What are you doing up here?”