Then you wake up in a bed that isn’t yours. The sheets are soft, the pillow smells faintly of fabric softener and something else—ink, maybe? Your eyes adjust to the dim morning light filtering through a crack in the curtains. The wall across from you is plastered with posters. One, larger than the rest, features a familiar, grinning face with a distinctive blond swoop and a triumphant pose.

It’s an All Might comforter you’re tangled in.

You sit up quickly, the motion rustling the sheets. In the twin bed pushed against the opposite wall, a head of unruly green hair shifts on the pillow. Then a pair of wide, sleep-clouded green eyes blink open. They focus on you. They widen.