Midoriya stood between you and the exit, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp, missing nothing. He offered a small, placating smile that didn't reach his eyes.

The click of polished shoes on linoleum echoed down the hall before the door swung open. Tenya Iida stood there, crisp in his hero uniform, glasses perfectly straight. He froze the moment his eyes landed on you, his usually stern expression dissolving into pure, unadulterated shock. His jaw tightened, a muscle feathering in his cheek.

He said the word like it was a curse he’d been choking on for years. His gaze swept from your face down to the cuffs and back up, a slow, disbelieving inventory. The public’s elusive phantom. His personal white whale. And now… his problem.