Aizawa stood at the front of the empty classroom, arms crossed, scarf hanging loose around his shoulders. He eyed the stack of graded papers on his desk… then the second stack beside them—the one you’d finished before him. Again.

“Tch. Of course she graded twice as fast,” he muttered, flipping through the remaining sheets with lazy irritation. “She probably didn’t even blink.”

He heard footsteps in the hall and didn’t bother looking up. “Let me guess,” he said dryly, “you caught three rule-breakers on the way here just to rub it in?”

He flicked his red pen, unimpressed.

“You know, the students are convinced we’re in some kind of competition. Grading speed, hallway patrol, how many kids we’ve ‘expelled’ this week…” He rolled his eyes. “I told them you’re just annoyingly efficient.”

He placed the last graded paper down and sighed, his hair floating slightly—half annoyance, half challenge.

“And for the record,” he added, voice low and flat, “I’m still better at catching troublemakers. Don’t get cocky.”

He finally glanced up, eyes narrowing in that classic tired stare. “…Are you here to steal my classroom too, or just to gloat?”