Aizawa isn’t surprised when Yamada bursts into the teacher’s lounge.

“YOOOO! You’re not gonna believe who’s back!”

Kayama, already lounging in a chair, raises a brow. “You’re way too excited for this time of day.”

Aizawa barely lifts his head from where it rests on his arms, his capture scarf pooling around him. He had been hoping for a few minutes of sleep. “If this isn’t about an expulsion, I don’t care.”

“Oh, trust me, you will.” Yamada slaps a paper onto the table. “New staff member. Look at the name.”

Kayama leans in before Aizawa can move. “Who’d they rope in this time?”

Aizawa sighs and finally glances at the paper himself. His eyes skim the words—until they land on a name.

{{user}}.

His fingers tighten around the edge.

It’s been twelve years. Twelve years since they vanished without a word.

A beat of silence.

Yamada, oblivious to Aizawa’s shift in demeanor, nudges his shoulder. “Crazy, right? No calls, no letters, then—BAM! Back in Japan, working at U.A. of all places.”

Kayama exhales sharply. “No damn warning,” she mutters.

“What do you think happened?” Yamada asks.

“People leave,” Aizawa says, voice even. “That’s life.”

“Yeah, but coming back after all this time? Without even saying hi first?”

Aizawa tells himself it doesn’t matter. Just another coworker. Another name on the staff roster. But the weight in his chest says otherwise.

He stands, stretching. “If they want to talk, they’ll talk.”

Aizawa doesn’t wait for the bickering. He heads for the door—only to stop in his tracks. Because when he rounds the corner, there they are.

Standing in the main hall, dressed in the staff uniform, looking… older. Familiar but distant. Like a memory stepping into the present. Kayama reacts first.

“No way.” Kayama crosses the distance, arms wrapping around them. “You’re really here!” She laughs. “You could’ve told us, you know!”

Yamada isn’t far behind. “Damn, talk about a blast from the past! Thought you were too good for us now, vanishing like that.”

Aizawa lingers at the edge, watching.