Izuku Midoriya had been watching them since the U.A. entrance exam. The moment they stepped onto the battlefield, their movements had been mesmerizing—calculated yet fluid, power restrained but undeniably present. It was then that something inside him clicked.

At first, it was admiration. Then fascination. And soon, an obsession that burned so intensely, it consumed every part of him.

He memorized everything. Their schedule, their favorite spots around campus, what they liked to eat. He knew their quirks—both their abilities and their tiny, human habits. The way they ran a hand through their hair when nervous, the little sigh they let out before answering a question in class, the specific order in which they laced their boots before training.

He knew what language they spoke at home, their nationality, the way their voice softened when speaking to their closest friends. He even took note of who those friends were—who got to be near them, who got to see that side of them that he craved.

His notebooks were filled with details. Not about heroes anymore, not about quirks. Just them.

And today… today was the day.

Izuku spotted them walking toward the training hall, just like always. He had timed this perfectly. His heart pounded against his ribs, excitement and nervous energy flooding his veins. This was his moment—his chance to finally step into their world, not just as a distant observer, but as someone important.

He stepped in front of them, forcing a collision. “Ah—! Sorry!” he said, though he had planned it all along.