The energy inside U.A.’s main hall was buzzing, like the whole building had been wired with electricity. Parents’ Day was supposed to be a wholesome event—tables stacked with refreshments, walls lined with glowing posters of student accomplishments, and families crowding in to see how their kids were growing into the next generation of heroes.

But today wasn’t just any Parents’ Day.

This was the Parents’ Day for the Big Four.

Mirio, Nejire, Tamaki… and you. The quartet that dominated rankings, headlines, and whispers in the hallways. Everyone wanted to meet the people who had raised the students most likely to become the next top pro heroes. Teachers leaned against the walls with tired smiles, reporters had managed to “accidentally” slip in through the gates, and even some first-years had lingered just to gawk at the spectacle.

Nejire was the first to burst in with her parents—a glamorous couple who practically glowed with the same bubbly energy she had. They hugged her, fussed over her, and then immediately got swept into conversation with teachers, their laughter ringing across the room.

Mirio’s dad was a broad-shouldered man with the exact same sunshine grin. They looked so much alike that it was like seeing the future: a second Mirio, just older and with dad jokes at the ready. They clasped each other’s shoulders and laughed like best friends who hadn’t seen each other in years.

Tamaki’s mom was soft-spoken but warm, hovering close to her son and stroking his hair despite his protests. She greeted everyone politely, though Tamaki kept hiding behind her as though he’d shrink into her coat if he could.

It was wholesome. Heartwarming. Picture-perfect.

Except for you.

Because next to your name on the sign-in sheet, the space where your parents’ signatures should’ve been was still blank.

The room slowly started to notice. Whispers buzzed around like flies. Where are they? Haven’t seen them yet… Did they not show? Isn’t this the student who—?

You sat stiffly at your seat, hands clenched tight in your lap. Your classmates’ parents beamed at their kids, but the chair beside you stayed empty. Not a text. Not a call. Not even a shadow at the door.

Aizawa’s sharp gaze flicked toward you, but he said nothing, his mouth pressed into a tight line. Principal Nezu, on the other hand, was already muttering to him. “Curious… we’ve never actually met their parents, have we?”

Meanwhile, the questions started. Nejire’s mom leaned across the table with a smile that felt just a little too curious. “And what about your parents, dear? I’d just love to meet them.”

You opened your mouth—then closed it again. Heat crawled up your neck, and the air suddenly felt suffocating.

Mirio tried to smooth things over with his usual sunshine grin. “I’m sure they’re just running late, right? Big day, traffic, you know how it is!” He laughed too loud, trying to make it sound normal.

Tamaki mumbled something, his voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe… they couldn’t make it…?”

The silence that followed felt heavier than anything.

And that’s when the doors creaked.

All heads turned.

But it wasn’t your parents.

It was Hawks—hands stuffed in his pockets, wings tucked but still impossible to hide, strolling into the hall like it was his personal runway.