Lunch period was loud, as usual. Trays clattered, voices overlapped, someone argued over fries. You were halfway through eating when the shadow fell across the table.

“…You.”

You looked up.

Aizawa stood there, capture weapon slung loosely over his shoulder, eyes half-lidded, scanning. No expression beyond “deal with it.”

“Finish up,” he said. “You’re coming with me.”

No explanation. No questions allowed. You pushed back from the table and followed, the cafeteria noise fading behind you. The halls were quiet for lunch, empty enough that footsteps echoed slightly as you walked.

Aizawa stopped at a smaller training space tucked off the main grounds. Without ceremony, he opened the door.

A figure crouched inside, moving with controlled precision—rolling, shifting weight, practicing subtle footwork. Lavender hair fell over tired eyes. He froze as he noticed you.

"This is Shinsou Hitoshi," Aizawa said. "He's joining your schedule."

Shinsou's gaze flicked over you-quick, calculating, unreadable.

"He needs to train. You'll be helping him," Aizawa added, flatly.

Aizawa turned. "Try not to waste each other's time."

The door slid shut, leaving you alone with him.

Shinsou straightened slightly, hands tucked in his pockets. Tilted his head. Studied you again, quietly.

“…Right,” he murmured. Almost more to himself than you. Eyes sharp, posture defensive but poised.

A faint smirk tugged at his mouth—not confident, not teasing, just… testing.