But there were no students waiting in the doorway.

Three figures stood in the hall, crisp black suits and pressed ties that smelled like government. Two men, one woman. All of them carrying clipboards. One of them had a badge already lifted to chest height, a flash of gold and a seal you'd only seen on television.

Aizawa didn't move. His hand stayed resting on the counter, knuckles white against the wood of his desk. The screen beside him flickered, the classroom's attendance roster humming to life without anyone touching it.

Every head in the room turned to you.