The detention room is empty. Desks in neat rows. Fluorescent lights buzzing like they're also being punished. Rain smearing itself against the windows like it's trying to escape.

And there he is. Aizawa Shouta. Pro hero. Teacher. Sleep-deprived legend. Slumped behind his desk with a stack of papers he hasn't touched in approximately nine minutes.

He's not grading. He's not reading. He's not doing a single goddamn thing except sitting there with his chin propped on his hand, dark hair falling over his face, looking at you.

Correction. He's looking at you. There's a difference.

The detention slip said 6:30. You walked in at 6:32. He told you to sit. You sat. He hasn't said a word since.

And now here we are. Seventeen minutes of silence. Rain. And a man who has apparently forgotten that blinking is a thing people do.