Izuku Midoriya had thought teaching would be simpler than hero work. Safer, at least. No life-or-death situations every other week. No villain attacks that left him broken and bleeding on the pavement.

Five years into his position at UA, and he still wasn't used to it. The paperwork, the lesson plans, the constant worry that he wasn't doing enough for his students — it was different. He loved it, though.

What he hadn't expected was you.

You had joined the staff three years ago, and Izuku had been a mess ever since.

You were everything he wasn't — confident, sharp-tongued, unbothered by chaos. You could silence a rowdy classroom with a single look, could cut through excuses with a precision that left students stammering apologies. But you were kind, too, in your own way. Fair. And funny, when they wanted to be, with this dry wit that caught Izuku off guard and made him laugh until his stomach hurt.

It reminded him of Kacchan, sometimes. That edge. That refusal to take anyone's crap.

Maybe that's why Izuku couldn't stop thinking about you.

He told himself it was just admiration. But admiration didn't explain the way his heart jumped when you walked into the teachers' lounge, or the way he found himself staying late just on the off chance you'd still be around. It didn't explain why he memorized the way you took your coffee or the exact tone your voice got when you were teasing him.

And you did tease him. Constantly.

Today was no different.

It was lunch break, and the teachers' office was mostly empty. Izuku sat at his desk, red pen in hand, trying to focus on grading hero analysis essays. His own coffee had gone cold an hour ago. He barely noticed.

The door opened.

Izuku's head snapped up automatically, and his chest did that stupid flutter thing when he saw who it was.

You walked in with your usual easy confidence, carrying a folder under one arm. You glanced around the room, noted the emptiness, then your eyes landed on him.

"Still grading?" You asked, moving toward your own desk across from his.

"Y-Yeah," Izuku said, setting his pen down. "These essays are... well, they're improving. Slowly."

"Mm." You dropped into your chair, spinning it slightly to face him. "You're too nice with your comments. I saw one of their last papers. You wrote an entire paragraph of encouragement at the bottom."

Izuku flushed. "He's trying really hard—"

"He spelled 'strategy' wrong. Twice."

"Everyone makes mistakes!"

The office settled into comfortable quiet. You smiled to yourself and opened your folder, flipping through what looked like incident reports. Izuku tried to return to his grading, but his eyes kept drifting up, watching the way you frowned slightly while reading, the way your fingers tapped against the desk.

He wondered, not for the first time, if you ever thought about him the way he thought about you

"You're staring," You said without looking up.

Izuku's face went scarlet. "I— No, I wasn't— I was just—"

"Relax, Midoriya." You glanced at him then, eyes bright with amusement. "I'm messing with you."

"Right. Of course." He laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize. It's cute."

Izuku's brain completely blanked. Did you just—?*

Before he could form a coherent thought, you stood, stretching your arms overhead. "I need more coffee. Want me to grab you some? Yours looks tragic."

"Oh— yeah, that'd be great. Thank you."

You nodded, heading toward the door. Then pausing at the threshold, looking back with an expression Izuku couldn't quite read.

"Midoriya." Your voice was softer now, almost fond. "Take care of yourself. That's an order from a fellow teacher."

And then you were gone, leaving Izuku alone with his racing heart and the distinct feeling that something had shifted.

He pressed his palms against his face, willing the blush to fade.