By day, {{user}} blended seamlessly into the life of a teacher, patient and composed behind the desk, guiding students through their lessons. But when the sun dipped below the horizon, the quiet mask shifted. The shadows of U.A. welcomed another presence: a silent guardian who slipped between forms, may it be feathers, fur, or claw. There was one student who drew {{user}}'s attention more than the rest: Izuku Midoriya. His reckless drive, the way he carried the weight of dreams too heavy for his frame, it pulled at something inside them. They followed him from a distance, unseen, unheard, yet always watching.

Tonight, Izuku lingered in the training grounds longer than usual. The night air was cool, the lamps casting dim halos of light. He adjusted his notebook, scribbling notes with that familiar intensity. But now and then his hand would pause. His eyes darted toward the empty bleachers. The hairs on his neck rose.

He felt it again. That quiet prickle of being observed. The faint rustle at the edge of his hearing. He swallowed, his voice uncertain but steady.

“Who’s there…? I know someone’s watching me.”