Midoriya and Kaminari peeked into the teachers’ lounge, careful not to make too much noise. The faint hum of the air conditioner blended with the low rhythm of conversation and the occasional scrape of a chair. Aizawa was seated near the back, chatting with Vlad King. His half-lidded eyes flicked toward the door the second the two students appeared.

  "Come in," he said, voice stern and clipped.

  Kaminari stepped forward first, grin faltering slightly under that tone. "Sorry to interrupt... we were wondering about the form we turned in a few days ago about the pool..."

  Aizawa turned toward his desk, fingers brushing through a stack of papers, the soft flutter of pages filling the pause. He pulled one free. "Oh, the school has granted you permission. You’re allowed to use the pool until five p.m."

  "Thanks!" Kaminari said quickly, bowing. Midoriya scrambled to mimic him.

  Aizawa raised an eyebrow. "You said you wanted to use the pool for endurance training, right?" He gestured for Kaminari to step closer. "You just need to read and sign a few forms first."

  Kaminari hurried over, eyes darting over the fine print while Aizawa explained the conditions. Midoriya lingered behind, hands tucked awkwardly into his pockets. The teachers’ lounge always felt strange, too still and adult. There were half-empty coffee cups scattered between stacks of paperwork, bulletin boards plastered with training schedules, and a quiet hum of exhaustion that hung over everything.

  Across the room, All Might sat at his desk. His smaller form looked oddly misplaced among the tall filing cabinets and long shadows from the blinds. His shoulders hunched forward as he wrote, pen scratching steadily against the paper. The sight always caught Midoriya off guard, how normal he looked now.

  While Kaminari handled the paperwork, Midoriya wandered over, his chest tightening just a little. He didn’t even know what he meant to say, only that he wanted to talk.

  All Might looked up and smiled, weary but kind. "Young man, it’s good to see you."

  Midoriya smiled faintly. "Hi, All Might. How’s your summer going?"

  All Might stood with a soft groan, one hand bracing his side as he straightened. "Very busy so far."

  Midoriya nodded, gaze lifting toward the man’s face. That height. That voice. It tugged at something, something heavy and uncertain. The conversation with Robinn from earlier drifted back into his head, and suddenly, his words failed him. His fingers fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, eyes darting between the floor and All Might’s expression.

  Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

  All Might noticed immediately. His brow eased, a faint spark of curiosity replacing the usual tiredness. "You have something you want to say, don’t you?" His tone softened, curious rather than commanding.

  Midoriya hesitated, throat tight. He didn’t want to overstep, didn’t want to sound like he was prying. But the question had been sitting in the back of his mind since U.S.J., and now it refused to stay there.

  "It’s... Robinn," he finally said. "I wanted to talk to you about her."

  All Might’s smile faltered just barely before returning, polite but thin. "Miss Reibach? What about her?"

  Midoriya glanced around, lowering his voice."We should talk somewhere more private."

  The small side room they usually used for serious talks was quiet, the hum of the building faint through the walls.

  All Might rubbed the back of his neck as he sat down on the couch. "So what did you want to talk about again?"

  Midoriya sat across from him, hands clasped tightly in his lap. Oddly enough, he seemed calmer now, more certain. "Robinn, sir."

  "Right... Robinn..." All Might repeated, the name landing heavier than expected.

  Midoriya studied him carefully. The older man looked tense, jaw tight, shoulders drawn in, eyes flicking briefly toward the floor before meeting his again. "Well... remember back at U.S.J.? When she ran up to you and didn’t seem surprised about your weakened form?"

  All Might opened his mouth to answer, but Midoriya pressed on, the words tumbling out faster than he meant. "I talked to her about it. She told me she already knew because you slipped up."

  All Might sighed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. The motion looked tired and deliberate. "That’s correct. She was another who already knew about me, but..." He paused, voice lowering. "She only knows about my injury, nothing else."

  It was a clean lie.

  Midoriya’s shoulders eased slightly. "But why didn’t you tell me?"

  All Might kept his gaze down. "It slipped my mind."

  Those words felt final. The silence afterward wasn’t awkward or heavy, it was hollow. Both of them seemed to know there was more, but neither wanted to be the one to say it.

  When Midoriya finally stood, All Might didn’t stop him. The older man just leaned back, eyes distant, the mask of calm sitting loosely over something heavier.

  "Done," Robinn said quietly, setting down the gardening equipment. She stepped back to survey her work, not out of pride, but to make sure everything was finished. After a thorough inspection, she gathered the tools, returned them to the small shed, and locked it up with a clean metallic click.

  She’d been avoiding her gardening club duties all summer, doing the bare minimum to keep her name on the list. But Kirishima’s words had stuck with her. Coming to U.A. during summer break was her way of meeting them halfway. If they really wanted to talk to her, she’d be there once a week. Pretty fair, she thought.

  As she left the garden, her mind flicked back to Mineta’s warning. It was dumb. It shouldn’t bother her. Most of it didn’t. Yet the irritation lingered anyway, small but sharp.

  The festival was over and she did what she needed to. There wasn’t anything left in front of her now... no short-term goal to chase, no new plan to reach for. All that remained were the constants: train, graduate, get her license, keep moving forward. She wasn’t lost, not exactly. But lately, she’d been feeling something akin to boredom.

  She walked in silence, eyes drifting across the campus. So much green. She liked that.