It was innocent — really. Nothing more than two students finding comfort where they could. The rule was simple: no girls in the boys’ dorm, no boys in the girls’ dorm. The buildings were separated for a reason. But it had already happened more than once.

You’d fallen asleep in Shoto’s room before — sometimes because he couldn’t sleep, sometimes because you couldn’t, and sometimes because the both of you just needed quiet company. It usually started with studying — books spread out, pens half-used, a faint glow from his desk lamp — and it always ended the same: you curled up against him, cheek pressed into his shoulder, your breathing steady and calm.

Tonight wasn’t any different. You were tucked into his neck, arms draped lazily around him while he still held the open book you’d been “studying” before dozing off. He hadn’t moved, even as the room fell silent — until the door suddenly opened.

“Surprise room inspection,” came Aizawa’s voice.

Shoto didn’t even flinch, though he did glance at the teacher standing in the doorway. Aizawa was in mid-sentence — “Have you seen Y/N? She wasn’t in her room and the others don’t know where she—” when he turned on the light.

And there you were. Peacefully asleep, completely tucked into Todoroki’s chest.

For a moment, even Aizawa paused. You were so small under the blankets that it took him a second to realize you were there at all. Todoroki, to his credit, carefully slid out from under you without waking you, smoothing the blanket over your shoulders before standing.

There wasn’t anger in Aizawa’s tone — just that mix of exhaustion and resigned understanding. He’d seen enough to know the two of you were far from troublemakers. The books scattered across the bed were proof enough. Still, he gave Todoroki a quiet talk outside the dorm — not a scolding, more like a reminder to be careful, to respect the rules even when he trusted them both.

Then, with a sigh, he came back to carry you himself — muttering something about “not leaving his honorary daughter in some boy’s bed.” You didn’t stir once, completely out cold, cheek pressed against his shoulder. Maybe it was because you felt safe. Or maybe you’d half-dreamed it was Todoroki carrying you back.

Either way, by morning, Shoto found the blanket you’d used neatly folded at the edge of his bed — and a note in Aizawa’s handwriting that read, simply:

“Next time, study in the common room.”