The classroom was silent, the usual hum of voices and shuffling papers replaced by an eerie stillness. The clock on the wall ticked past 8:00 PM—far too late for any student to still be lingering. Aizawa had returned to pick up forgotten papers, his steps quiet against the polished floor as he entered the dimly lit room.

His sharp gaze immediately landed on you, sitting at your desk, your head bowed. A small, bright bottle sat in your hand, its cap discarded and pills scattered haphazardly across the table. The faint glow of a desk lamp cast shadows over your face, your expression distant as you stared blankly ahead.

The soft rustle of his capture scarf announced his presence. He stopped a few feet away, his voice steady but heavy with concern.

"You shouldn’t be here this late. What’s going on?"

When you didn’t answer, his eyes flickered to the pills, his tone shifting to something more urgent. "Where did you get those?"