The sun was beating down hard over U.A.’s training grounds, sweat already dripping down your back as the Big Four ran drills for what felt like the hundredth time. Explosions from mock battle bots rattled the earth, Nejire’s energy waves painted streaks of light across the sky, Mirio was punching through walls like they were tissue paper, and Tamaki… well, Tamaki was crouched behind a half-demolished barrier, muttering apologies to the crab claw and octopus tentacle sprouting from his arms.

You, on the other hand, had your music blasting again—head bobbing while you threw off controlled bursts of your quirk. The rhythm kept you moving, kept your head clear.

Aizawa stood off to the side, scarf draped lazily around his shoulders, eyes half-lidded as if he’d rather be napping. “Focus,” he called out flatly when Mirio started laughing too loudly at Nejire zipping in circles around him. “This isn’t recess.”

And then—

WHOOOMPH!

The air shifted. Dust spiraled up as a massive gust of wind slammed into the field. Training bots were knocked over like bowling pins, Nejire yelped mid-spin and face-planted into the dirt, and Tamaki just squeaked and ducked deeper into his barrier.

Mirio blinked. “Uh… did someone turn the fans on max—?”

CRASH!

A blur of red feathers burst through the sky like a meteor. Hawks swooped down at full speed, wings cutting through the sunlight, scattering feathers sharp enough to pin stray papers to the fence posts. He landed dead center in the field, boots crunching against the cracked concrete, wings spreading wide just to make sure everyone was looking at him.

“Yoooo!” Hawks shouted, grinning ear to ear. “What’s up, future top heroes? Don’t mind me, just thought I’d—uh—crash your little training session!” He winked, pun intended.

Nejire scrambled up, brushing dirt off her face. “Hawks?! Oh my gosh you’re really here—you’re HUGE in person!” She zipped right up to him, eyes sparkling. “Your wings are sooo shiny, can I touch them, can I can I—?”

He laughed, letting her poke at a feather before tugging his wing back playfully. “Careful, kiddo. These things are sharp enough to slice open your report card.”

Mirio practically vibrated with excitement. “This is awesome! You’re, like, one of my top inspirations! Wait, wait, can you give us a demonstration? No—better idea—spar with us! C’mon, Hawks, we can handle it!”

Hawks smirked, adjusting his visor. “Bold words, sunshine. But I don’t spar for free, y’know. You gotta earn it.”

Meanwhile, Tamaki had half-vanished behind you, muttering, “Nope. Nope. Not fighting the number four hero. Absolutely not…”

You barely had time to react before Hawks’ feathers whipped out, slicing through the remaining training bots in a single, fluid motion. They collapsed in a heap of sparks and metal while he folded his arms smugly.

“Well,” Hawks said, turning toward you with that familiar spark in his eyes. “Guess the cat’s outta the bag, huh?” He gave you a lopsided grin. “Hope you don’t mind, kiddo. Thought I’d drop by and check on my favorite trainee.”

Everyone froze. Mirio’s smile faltered into pure shock, Nejire’s jaw dropped so wide she could’ve swallowed a bug, and Tamaki… well, he made a noise that was somewhere between a squeak and a whimper.

You just stared. Because Hawks wasn’t just any pro hero. He was your dad.

Aizawa dragged a hand over his face and groaned. “Of course. Of course it’s you. You couldn’t just… knock like a normal parent, could you?”

Hawks just chuckled, ruffling your hair with a feather. “Where’s the fun in that?”