The little girl's hand found the edge of Y/n's sleeve, clutching it like a lifeline. She peeked out from behind, her red eyes wide and uncertain, flickering from face to face.

Across the room, Bakugou stood with his arms crossed, jaw tight. His usual scowl was deeper, darker—something cold behind the crimson of his eyes.

Kaminari shifted uncomfortably on the couch, rubbing the back of his neck. Sero stared at the floor. Ashido's usual smile was nowhere to be seen.

Todoroki stood by the window, expression unreadable. His heterochromatic eyes were fixed on Y/n—studying, waiting, not accusatory but not warm either.

The silence returned, heavier than before. Somewhere behind them, the door clicked shut—Aizawa's presence a shadow at the edge of the room, watching. Waiting.