The tension in the room was thick, a lingering remnant of the previous night's events. Andrew focused on his toast, chewing mechanically while his thoughts drifted elsewhere. He wanted a cigarette badly, but he knew better than to show up at school smelling like one. He settled for coffee, its bitter warmth doing little to ease the discomfort in his chest. His mother hadn't said much to him that morning. Then again, none of them had said much at all.

Renee sipped her coffee, flipping through the newspaper with her phone pressed to her ear, waiting impatiently for the cable company to pick up. Of all the things that could irritate her today, dealing with incompetent customer service was low on the list. There were bigger problems to address, but she didn't have the energy for them just yet.

Ashley sat across from her, arms folded, her cold stare burning a hole into her mother's newspaper. If her mother noticed, she didn't acknowledge it. She had other things on her mind, things that are more pressing than indulging her daughter's silent protest. The events of last night replayed in her head—the near slap, Andrew's interference, the way Ashley stormed off. The house still felt heavy with unspoken words.

Andrew glanced at Ashley from the corner of his eye. She hadn't said a single word, hadn't even insulted him, which was unusual. Normally, she would have thrown some snide remark his way by now, but today, there was nothing. Just that quiet, simmering resentment directed at their mother.

A robotic voice on the phone finally came through, pulling Renee's attention back. "For English, press one."

Renee sighed, pressing the button with little patience. Another round of hold music played, making her rub her temple.

Andrew took a slow sip of coffee, debating if he should say something to break the silence. But really, what was there to say? Would talking even fix anything? Maybe it was better this way.

Ashley tapped her fingers against the table, her stare never wavering. The message was clear: she wasn't ready to move past last night.

Renee didn't look up from her paper, but she knew. And for now, she let it be.

"Motherfucker!" Renee let out a sharp sigh as the call was rerouted—again! She gripped the phone tighter, frustration simmering beneath the surface. This was supposed to be a simple fix—just come to the damn house and install my damn cable! Yet here she was, stuck in another endless loop of hold music and automated responses.

Then, Andrew's phone alarm blared. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, downed the last sip of his now-lukewarm coffee, and grabbed his toast. School loomed over him like an obligation rather than a routine. Ashley, already reluctant to leave, dragged her feet as she gathered her things, barely acknowledging her brother before heading out.

A few minutes later, Andrew crouched at the entrance, lacing up his shoes. The house was quiet except for the soft shuffle of his mother's footsteps behind him. Even without looking, he could feel her presence—heavy, expectant. He knew she wanted to say something. He also knew she wouldn't.

He sighed through his nose, tightening the knot on his sneaker. His chest felt tight, the weight of last night's argument pressing against him like an invisible hand. He wasn't proud of what was said, but he didn't have the energy to fix it either.

"Can you stop by the market on your way home?" His mother's voice was quieter than usual. Less sharp.

He gave a short nod, keeping his eyes on the floor. "Just text me what you need."

A beat of silence stretched between them. The air felt dense, thick with unspoken words neither was ready to say. He slipped on his last shoe, stood, and reached for the door—but before stepping out, he hesitated.

With a slow inhale, he finally spoke. "We need to talk about last night."

His voice was firm, but there was no bite to it. It wasn't an apology, but it was something. A threadbare attempt to bridge the widening gap. He nodded once more, then left.

He stepped outside, the morning air carrying the faint smell of damp pavement. He absentmindedly patted his backpack, fingers pressing against the hidden compartment where he kept his cigarettes. Just in case. He wasn't even sure if he wanted one today, but knowing they were there made him feel like he had some kind of control—over something, at least.

Ashley was already a few steps ahead, walking with a purpose, her shoulders tense. She didn't glance back to see if he was following. She never did. That was just how she operated—when she was pissed, she shut the world out. And right now, she was pissed at him.

Still, he hated the silence. He needed to say something.

Picking up the pace, he jogged up to her side. "Ash, slow down."

She didn't. If anything, she walked faster.

Andrew sighed, running a hand down his face. "I get why you're mad, okay? But I was trying to stick up for you last night."

Nothing. Not even a flicker of acknowledgement.

"I get why you said what you said to Mom. I really do." His voice was softer this time, less defensive. He wanted her to know that.

Her gaze didn't wave from the road ahead. Lips pressed in a tight line, arms crossed over her chest, she looked like she was actively willing him out of existence.

He tried again. "Come on, Ash. you know she was out of line. I was just trying to—"

"Just drop it, Andrew," she muttered, finally breaking her silence.

Her tone was flat, exhausted. Like she had already decided there was no point in talking to him. His stomach twisted. That stung more than he wanted to admit.

He let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. "Great. I get it. I'm the asshole."

Ashley didn't respond.

He cursed under his breath, shoving his hands into his pockets. Would he ever catch a break? It felt like no matter what he did, he was always stuck in the middle—his mother expecting him to be the responsible one, Ashley acting like he was part of the problem.

Maybe he should've just grabbed a cigarette after all.

Sometime later….

Andrew and Ashley took the stairs down to the train station, the scent of damp concrete and faint traces of exhaust lingering in the air. As soon as they reached the platform, Andrew pulled out a cigarette, exhaling in relief. He was thankful he always carried cologne in his backpack—just in case. School wasn't for another thirty minutes, so he had time for a quick smoke.

He had just tucked the cigarette between his lips when a voice called out, playful and familiar.

"Got a spare, Cowboy?"

Andrew turned around, already recognizing the lazy drawl before he even saw her.

Hitoshi stood a few feet away, leaning against the wall, twirling a lollipop between her fingers. She pushed off and beelined toward him with the same effortless confidence she always carried. Ashley, without a word, rolled her eyes and darted away, disappearing further down the platform.

Hitoshi tracked her with a glance, then raised a brow. "She alright?"

Andrew barely spared it a thought. "She's fine," he muttered, pulling out a second cigarette and handing it to her.

She accepted with a smirk. He flicked his lighter open, the tiny flame briefly illuminating her face as she leaned in to light the tip. She inhaled, letting the smoke curl between her fingers, then shot him a knowing look.

"Didn't expect to see you out," he said, taking a drag. "Considering, y'know…you were in jail and all."

She let out a dramatic sigh, tilting her head back. "What can I say? Turns out my mom, or more accurately, her boyfriend had just enough to bail me out."

He huffed a quiet laugh. She was playing the role of a returned convict well, like she had done real time instead of just a short stint in holding.

Still, something didn't quite sit right. "So why are you at the station?" he asked, exhaling smoke through his nose. "Don't you live on campus?"

Hitoshi took another drag, letting the moment stretch before answering. "I like to patrol. People-watch. You never know what you'll see." A smirk curled at the corner of her lips. "Or maybe I was looking for you."

Andrew rolled his eyes, waving her off as he started toward the exit. She easily fell in step beside him, hands tucked into the pockets of her hoodie.

"By the way," she said, her voice a little more casual now, "thanks for going out last night. I had a good time—getting to know you better."

He nodded, taking another slow inhale of his cigarette. "Yeah, no problem."

She studied him for a moment before nudging his arm lightly. "And what about Ashley? She really okay? After…y'know, the whole thing with her and Bakugo at the drink bar?"

Andrew sighed, watching the smoke dissipate into the cool morning air. "She'll be fine. If she was still worked up about it, she would have let everyone know."

Hitoshi snorted. "Fair point." She took another slow drag of her cigarette, exhaling smoke as she turned to Andrew. "Oh, by the way—Bakugo's getting out today," she said casually. "Had his hearing this morning. Judge saw him, and UA's covering his release expenses."

The brunet let out a low whistle. "Figures."

The purple-haired hustler smirked. "Yeah, but they're making sure he pays them back. Every single yen. Blood, sweat, and those oh-so-precious tears of his."

Andrew scoffed. "Wouldn't expect anything less."

He wasn't surprised that Shinsou already had the details. She always had the details. People called her the school's information hub, the resource girl, the hustler—the internet in human form. If something was happening, chances were, she already knew about it.

He shook his head. "Hopefully holding did him some good. Maybe now he'll think twice before pulling more shit with my sister."

Hitoshi gave him a side glance, unimpressed. "C'mon. Graves, do you really think he learned anything?"

Andrew sighed. "Not really."

She smirked. "Exactly. He'll probably wear it like a badge of honor…unless, y'know, he got a human booster shot from his cellie named Molly."

"Yeah, I heard milk-induced enemas were great when forced." Andrew retorted.

They both burst out laughing as they stepped out onto the street, the cool air clearing some of the cigarette smoke from their lungs.

Before she could even ask, Andrew was already fishing into his pack. Without a word, he handed her another cigarette.

She grinned. "Knew I liked you, Graves."

A few minutes later….

Andrew and Hitoshi walked side by side along the pathway leading to UA. The school loomed in the distance, growing larger with every step. Ahead, students funneled through the gates, some in groups, others moving alone, lost in their own morning routines.

A sharp whistle cut through the air.

Andrew glanced up and spotted Hatsume waving enthusiastically from a few feet away. Hitoshi turned at the sound, already smirking.

"Yo, Hatsume!" she greeted as Mei rushed toward them.

The moment the steampunk teen reached them, she took one look at the two of them standing together and grinned. "Well, well, well," she teased, pushing up her goggles. "Is a ship being sailed?"

Hitoshi rolled her eyes before grabbing Mei in a headlock, digging her knuckles into her scalp. "Your damn goggles must be on too tight."

Mei cackled, unfazed. "Hey, I'm just saying. First, you two were out alone last night, now you're here smoking together?" She shot Andrew a wink. "Damn, Graves, you move quick!"

Andrew exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he kept walking. The last thing he needed was people stirring up something that wasn't there.

"See whatcha did, you ass?!" Hitoshi yanked at Mei's goggles, pulling them back before letting them snap against her forehead.

"Ah! Dammit, Shinsou!" Mei groaned, rubbing the sore spot.

Andrew barely paid attention as they fell into their usual banter. His focus was elsewhere. The last thing he needed right now was a relationship.

Not when there were still demons clawing at him from his last one.

Sometime later….

Class had just finished up, it was maths with Ectoplasm and Ashley couldn't be more than thrilled to be out of there as he used Mineta's short stature to express how to subtract the amount women who would give the half-pint attention by the amount of charges against him after he leaves Yuuei. His future was a bleak one but that didn't bother her as Ashley and the other girls made their way to the locker room to change for P.E, the girls had asked Ashley if she was still alright after the events of the night prior.

"I swear if that rejected pomeranian tries to assault you again let us know Ash, we'll back you up!" shouted a very enthusiastic Ashido as they all continued down the hall. Ashido was so livid, not just for the night being ruined but for her newest friend and classmate being taken advantage of by a complete prick. She even felt worse because she knew if it wasn't for Bakugou blackmailing her then none of this would have happened.

"Tell me about it, the nerve to do what he did. I just wish we acted sooner, maybe then the night would have gone swimmingly." responded Yaoyorozu while recalling the devastation that was left behind due to her classmate's inadequacies. She still felt insecure when he called out her wealth and how her family put so much money into the city, but that's because they care about the people not to control the city like king pins.

"Well next time, I'm curb stomping him in the nuts till the doctor's mistake him for a girl. Fucking prick," spoke Jirou while giving her two cents. She never even got to sing last night or reassure graves they have her back.

"Oh trust me there won't be a next time for Anti-social needy little shit and his throbbing ego. For now I'm focusing on one thing, not letting it bother me." Ashley lied. She couldn't deny how she was feeling, it was supposed to be her night. A night where she finally made friends got to hang out and live a little and actually enjoy herself then that asshole had to ruin it all for her and the rest of the girls. However, that was when an all too familiar face approached them. Ashley was immediately groaning before he could open his mouth,

"Hello Miss Graves, I see you're in high spirits today HEYEEEEAAAAOOOOHHHH! get it?" Present Mic shouted while having the biggest shit-eatting grin on his face from his daily puns. Yep you heard that correctly daily. Any time he was in the Vicinity of herself or Andrew he made it a habit to make those extremely shitty puns. "Anyways I got a Grave message for you from your homeroom teacher and my best bud, Aizawa. He told me you need to head to his office for a little chat, but. Do not worry as he told me it wasn't a Grave situation HEYEEEEAAAAOOOOHHHH!" finishing before walking off chuckling to himself.

"Someday I'll strangle that pedo-stache having, loud pun making, asshole even if it kills me." Ashley infuriatingly retorted. "I'm gonna choke they have a living shit out of him till his larynx don't work anymore, I'm so sick of his fucking puns!" before turning to the other girls and expressing it as a joke.

"I'm with ya on that one sista, his puns are getting outta hand. Back to before we'll plan for another day of fun only this time we don't have to worry about rabid dogs disrupting us. But let's not focus on that right now, you've gotta see sensei, So we'll see you later Ash." voiced Ashido before she and the others continue heading for the locker rooms leaving Ashley to head for Aizawa's office.

A few minutes later….

Ashley approached Aizawa-sensei's office, her steps measured as she knocked on the door. No answer. She frowned, reaching for the knob, and to her mild surprise, it was turned easily. Unlocked.

She pushed the door open and stepped inside, immediately taking in her surroundings. The room was a shrine to fatigue and disorganization—papers stacked precariously on the desk, a few spilling onto the floor. A threadbare sleeping bag lay crumpled in the corner, looking like it had been used more than his actual bed. An old coffee mug sat near the edge of the desk, the ring of dried liquid at the bottom suggesting it had long since abandoned its purpose. The air carried a distinct yeasty, malty scent, a combination of old caffeine and something sharper—fermented, maybe. Her gaze drifted to the trash can, where an empty box of nicotine patches poked out from under a few crumpled papers.

"Wow," she muttered, arms crossed. "This place either needs a woman's touch or, judging by the nicotine patches and eau de brewery, a twelve-step program."

Still, something felt off. Why had Aizawa-sensei called her to his office if he wasn't even here? Ashley checked the time on her phone. Maybe he got caught up with some other teacher business?

She exhaled through her nose, pushing down the flicker of unease before her mind wandered into the worst places. She had read enough of her brother's pulp fiction novels to know how situations like this could go south. Half the covers of those books featured some poor sap walking into a room only to end up knocked out, blackmailed, or getting their virginity snatched by two rednecks and their personal gimp.

Then there were the other scenarios—one she had, regrettably, come across in certain manga her brother collected by Black Dog and Ratatatat47. The kind of artists whose works made her wish brain bleach was a real thing. The thought alone made her shudder, and she quickly shoved it out of her mind before it could spiral into anything more graphic.

Taking a breath, she shook off the lingering discomfort and decided to sit. The chair across from Aizawa's desk creaked slightly as she settled in, arms resting against the armrests.

She tapped her fingers against the desk, debating whether she should just leave. Maybe this was some kind of test. Maybe Aizawa was watching her from the shadows, waiting to see how she reacted to an unexpected situation. That seemed like something he would do—observe, analyze, judge in silence before making his move.

Her gaze drifted downward, and she noticed a folder left slightly ajar on the desk. Her own picture stared up at her from the top of a neatly stacked of papers.

Her file.

Her curiosity flared before she could stop it. She hasn't done anything wrong—at least not in Japan—but seeing her name and image in an official document, in his office, made her stomach tighten. Did this have something to do with the events that led her here in the first place? Was it possible that it was the file from her previous high school?

She leaned in, eyes scanning the contents, but the text was in Japanese, which made it difficult. Still, certain details stood out—dates, official seals, and at the bottom of the page, the distinct letterhead of an attorney's office.

From back home.

Ashley's breath caught. An attorney? Why would there be legal documentation? Then, she had to remind herself.

"What in the fuck did you do, Leyley?"

"She kept touching you. I-i-i-i-it should be me touching you. No one can touch you, feel you, kiss you, fuck you…only me!"

"Leyley!"

"You're mine, Andy!"

Before she could take a closer look, a shift in the air sent a chill down her spine.

A quiet, subtle presence behind her.

Then—shffft!

….!

A cocoon of dark fabric suddenly unfurled behind her, and before she could react, Aizawa-sensei emerged from a damn sleeping bag like some kind of horror movie creature.

Her body moved before her brain could stop it. Pure instinct.

Her Quirk ignited, a sizzling splash of acid bubbling to life in the palm of her hand, her immediate reaction to something appearing behind her without warning.

But Aizawa was faster.

His eyes snapped open, glowing red, and instantly, her Quirk cut out as if someone had flipped a switch. The acid fizzled away, neutralized before it could hit anything—or anyone. Before she could even gasp, something snaked around her—a whip-like binder wrapping tightly around her arms and torso.

In one fluid motion, Aizawa-sensei gave a practiced tug, sliding her away from his desk and into the chair with a surprising lack of effort, like she weighed nothing.

Ashley barely had time to process the fact that she had almost attacked her homeroom teacher before she found herself seated, effectively restrained, with Eraserhead looming over her in his usual slouched posture.

"That's a hell of a way to say good afternoon," he muttered, voice rough with exhaustion.

The better half of the Misery twin blinked, still trying to recover from whatever the hell just happened. "Where the hell did you come?" she blurted, incredulous.

The Eraser hero simply sighed, rubbing his temple as if dealing with a headache. "That's classified."

She narrowed her eyes, still trying to process the fact that her teacher had literally materialized out of a sleeping bag like some cryptid. But as her adrenaline settled, her mind went back to the real issue at hand—the file on the desk.

Aizawa followed her gaze, his expression unreadable.

"You're not supposed to see that," he said flatly.

Ashley swallowed, but her voice came out steadier than she expected. "So, what's in it?"

A beat of silence.

Then—

"You tell me," he said, eyes sharp, his tone leaving no room for dodging.

He then reached for one of the many apples in a bowl on his desk, rolling it in his hand before taking a slow, deliberate bite. As he chewed, he reached into his pocket, pelled the backing off a nicotine patch, and slapped it onto his arm with practiced ease.

Ashley, still a bit tense from the whole restrained and yeeted into a chair moment, watched him warily. He leaned back, draping one arm over the back of his chair, his sharp gaze fixed on her in that lazy but ever-watchful way of his.

"You know," he drawled between bites, "there's an old saying about curiosity and what it does to cats."

Ashley exhaled through her nose, crossing her arms. "Yeah? Well, good thing I'm not a cat."

The Eraser hero huffed lightly—maybe amusement, maybe exasperation. Hard to tell. He grabbed another apple, rolling it across his palm before setting it on his desk.

"How are you settling in?" he asked, his tone as casual as if she hadn't just nearly burned his face off a minute ago.

Ashley blinked, thrown off by the sudden shift in conversation. She tried to keep it cool, leaning back in her chair. "I'm adjusting okay," she said, keeping her voice even. "Getting used to the curriculum, adapting to rules, all that. I get along with my classmates, especially with the girls."

He nodded, still eating his apple. He looked disinterested on the surface, but she knew better—he was listening, absorbing every word like it was a vital puzzle piece to some equation only he understood.

"Goof," he muttered.

Then, with a subtle but deliberate change in tone, he added, "Bakugo gets released from juvie this afternoon."

"I know. Well…I've heard."

Aizawa took another bite, chewing as he studied her reaction. When she didn't offer anything further, he spoke again. "The stunt you and Bakugo pulled at the drink bar cost us. A lot."

She swallowed but kept her expression neutral.

Aizawa set his apple down, resting his arms on the desk. "Nezu and the school had to pay a lot of money to keep the owners quiet. The last thing we need is UA's reputation being dragged through the mud over two students acting like delinquents."

Before she could retort, he lifted his finger. "Yes, I know it was in self-defense, but due to your reputation in the past…"

Ashley resisted the urge to shift in her seat. The last thing she needed was to be reminded of past transgressions.

"We got lucky," he continued. "Nezu was able to smooth things over, but we won't be able to cover you again if something like this happens." He exhaled, rubbing his temple. "You might be adjusting, but don't mistake that for invincibility."

Ashley bit the inside of her cheek, debating whether to say anything in her defense. But something in Aizawa's expression—calm, yet unyielding—told her this wasn't a negotiation.

She exhaled through her nose and nodded. "Got it."

Aizawa studied her a moment longer before leaning back, grabbing his apple again. "Good. Because I'd rather not have this conversation twice."

"Yes, sir."

The Eraser hero chewed thoughtfully on the last of his apple before setting the core down and brushing his hands off. His expression remained unreadable for a moment before he spoke again.

"Nevertheless, you're adapting quickly," he admitted, his tone casual but deliberate. "Social immersion is just as important as academic performance. Considering how you've thrown yourself in, you're doing better than expected."

She raised a brow. A compliment? From him?

Before she could comment, Aizawa leaned back and added, "That's about as rare as a woman willingly holding Mineta's hand—unless there's a restraining order or a can of mace involved."

Ashley snorted before she could stop herself. "The spray or the blunt instrument?"

"Either works," Aizawa replied dryly, rubbing the back of his neck.

She shook her head, suppressing a grin. "You're so generous with praise, sensei." Of course it was met with backhanded dry sarcasm.

"Don't get used to it," he deadpanned. Then, shifting gears, he continued, "Before I explain the real reason I called you here, there's something else."

Ashley narrowed her eyes slightly.

"You're starting after-school tutoring," he said simply, already reaching for another apple. "With Midoriya."

She sat up. "I figure that it would be a matter of time."

"It's important that you catch up academically. He's the best option to help you with that."

"Yeah, I understand."

"Before you know it," Aizawa continued, peeling the sticker off his apple, "you'll be reading at a seventh grade level in no time."

Ashley blinked.

Then he laughed. A short, low chuckle, barely there but absolutely mocking.

Ashley gave him a deadpan stare, suppressing the strong urge to flip his desk over. Instead, she let out a forced, stifled laugh, one that barely masked the burning desire to throttle him. "Oh, I would love to read something, all right," she thought. "Your obituary. At my seventh grade reading level."

Unfortunately, her actual reading level hovered closer to a fourth grader's, making the fantasy a little less satisfying.

She inhaled through her nose, plastering on a tight-lipped smile. "Gee, sensei, can't wait."

Aizawa smirked as he took another bite of his apple. "That's the spirit."

The Eraser Hero tossed the apple core into the trash bin with a lazy flick of the wrist. It landed with a soft thud, and as if that was his signal, he shifted gears, his expression returning to its usual business-like neutrality.

"Back to the reason I called you here," he said, folding his arms. "All UA students enrolled here must pass an admittance exam. Since you were accepted provisionally, you'll need to complete a combat evaluation to be fully enrolled."

Ashley nodded, already aware of this part. She had learned about it from the letter sent to her mom. She wasn't worried. In fact, she had been looking forward to it, especially since she was set to partner with Ashido. Their opponents were supposed to be Yaoyorozu and Jirou — both strong, sure, but nothing she couldn't handle.

"This fight is going to be a piece of kelp." She leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, ready to confirm her understanding when Aizawa continued.

"But," he said, and that single word sent a ripple of unease up her spine.

Ashley's brows knitted together. "What do you mean, 'but?'"

"After reviewing your altercation with Bakugo at the drink bar, I changed my mind."

Something in her stomach twisted. "God…if there is a God, you must be testing me. Because you know damn well that I am going to fucking fail."

"After thoughtful consideration and approval from Nezu and the staff," Aizawa went on, his tone maddeningly calm, "it's been decided that your new opponents will be Bakugo and Uraraka."

"What the fuck did he just say?" Her fingers twitched against the armrests. The floor beneath her felt a little less stable. Her brain stuttered, momentarily misfiring as if trying to process what the hell she had just heard.

She stared at jizz rag, blinking, wondering if this was some kind of elaborate joke. Maybe she had misheard him. Maybe he had meant to say something else.

Nope. He was just sitting there, casual as ever, like he hasn't just lobbed a verbal grenade into her existence. Her jaw tightened. She wanted nothing more than to launch this man through the damn window like a javelin. Yeet him into the horizon. Make him someone else's problem.

Instead, she took a slow, controlled breath through her nose, trying to keep her composure. The chair beneath her, however, had other ideas. A faint cracking sound filled the room as tiny fissures spider-webbed across the surface where her fingers gripped the armrests.

The Eraser Hero raised a brow. "Control your nerves, Graves."

She clenched her jaw harder, forcing her hands to relax. The cracks stopped, but the simmering irritation in her chest did not.

"Sensei," she began, her voice even, "with all due respect…are you out of your damn mind?"

Aizawa sighed, rubbing his temples. "No. But I do enjoy watching students come to that conclusion."

She inhaled sharply, willing herself to not flip his desk. "You expect me to fight Bakugo? Moth Balls? The ankle biter? Kirishima's ball and chain?" she asked, her voice edging toward disbelief. "And Uraraka?"

Aizawa nodded as if this was all perfectly reasonable. "That's what I said, yes."

She let out a short, incredulous laugh. "I–okay, hold on. Let's rewind a bit. I know my Japanese is as good as your English." She cleared her throat. "I was fine fighting with Momo and Kyouka. That? Easy. That? Manageable. But now I gotta deal with Bakugo—who, by the way, is fresh out of juvie and Uraraka, who is basically a kill switch. Those two sick puppies?"

Aizawa shrugged, grabbing another apple to bite, chewing as if her outrage was just background noise.

"The sky is blue. The moon isn't made of cheese." he confirmed.

Ashley ran a hand down her face, exhaling through her teeth.

"Why?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady. "Did I fail to mention that that fight was in self-defense? It was literally plastered in 4K what he did."

Aizawa shrugged. "Because you and Bakugo have unresolved tension. Maybe not Benson and Cabot kind of tension or Steve and Snot, but tension nonetheless. Also, Uraraka is a solid fighter who doesn't let emotions cloud her judgement."

Ashley narrowed her eyes, knowing damn well what he said about Uraraka was an obvious lie. "I am starting to think you're wanting us to fight, don't you?"

Aizawa cracked his knuckles. "Spare me the rhetoric, Graves. As if I get a sick kick out of this. This is a baptist Sunday school picnic to what I have endured in my former days as a hero. The point is that I want you to learn," he corrected. "And if you happen to punch each other a few times in the process, well…" He tilted his head slightly. "Call it a bonus."

"I'm going to call for what it is…bullshit." Ashley has heard enough.

"Where are you going, Graves?"

"Nope! Not doing this." She pushed herself up from the chair, shaking her head as she made a beeline for the door. "Gonna see if Seiai, Beacon, Haven or—"

….!

Something coiled around her midsection before she could take another step. Her body jerked to a stop as Aizawa's capture weapon snapped around her like a serpent, pinning her arms to her sides. With his wrist, he reeled her back like a fish on a line.

Her feet slid against the floor as she was yanked backward, and before she could react, she was ungracefully plopped right back into the chair.

"What in the flying fuck are you…." Her voice was muffled by his binders.

"First of all, Graves, language. Very unladylike," Aizawa said, showing unrepentant as he stared blankly at her. He leaned forward slightly, resting his arm on the desk. He displayed such an unreadable expression and yet ever so calm. "And second, you don't have an option."

She was muffling belligerently. Aizawa took a few breaths before slightly releasing the binders from her mouth. "The hell I don't."

The Eraser Hero exhaled, tilting his head slightly. "I would advise you to stay seated. Otherwise…" He reached toward the file still resting on his desk, fingers tapping the cover. "These documents might become some very interesting reading material for my fellow colleagues."

Ashley went still. Her gaze darted to the file. The one with documents from the attorney's office back home. She clenched her jaw.

"A-a-are you threatening me?" she asked, her voice low.

Aizawa raised a brow. "No, just stating the obvious." He flipped the folder open slightly, eyes scanning the top sheet. "You came to this school under 'special' circumstances. If you recall, UA was willing to give you a fresh start—despite the issues you had at your previous school."

Ashley said nothing, her nails digging into the chair's armrests.

He met her gaze again, his tone unreadable. "But if you decide to walk out of here, I can't promise your attorneys or the prosecutors back home won't be hearing about this little debacle with Bakugo. After all, a repeat offense doesn't exactly scream rehabilitation."

Her stomach twisted.

So that was his play.

He wasn't physically forcing her. He wasn't threatening in the traditional sense. But he was making it very clear that her past—something she had been desperately trying to move on from—could just as easily come crashing back down on her head.

Ashley's grip on the armrests tightened, the barely visible cracks from earlier deepening ever so slightly.

Aizawa sighed, rubbing his face. "Listen, I would rather not have to strong-arm a student into following protocol. And if I'm being honest?" He tapped his arm where the nicotine patch sat. "I'm one bad craving away from just growling at people at this point."

"Sounds kinda fruity to me, but who am I to judge?" Words she wanted to say but kept silent. This felt like a lose-lose situation, no matter how she looked at it.

She had been doing everything in her power to avoid Katsuki and Ochako. The last thing she needed was a sanctioned excuse for one to throw hands and the other to throw her into the stratosphere.

Bakugo would have a field day—knowing he could freely attack her without getting arrested this time. And Uraraka? That girl carried seething jealousy for anyone even remotely close to Midoriya. If she thought for a second that Ashley had overstepped some invisible boundary, she wouldn't hesitate to turn the match into a personal grudge.

This wasn't going to be a simple exam. This was going to be a bloodbath.

Aizawa watched her carefully, his expression unreadable as he continued.

"UA isn't just a school," he said. "It's a brotherhood. Everyone here has to learn to work together, no matter their differences." He leaned forward slightly. "There's a lot of pent-up energy between you and Bakugo. It's no secret you two don't get along. If you're going to be here, you have to find a way to co-exist."

She let out a slow breath through her nose, willing herself to not snap back immediately. Instead, she glanced at him, arching a brow.

"So what you're saying," she said dryly, "is that we'll beat the crap out of each other until we suddenly understand each other better? That's your logic?"

Aizawa took another lazy bite of his apple. "It's worked before."

Ashley scoffed. "Yeah? On which side of the fence? The plaintiff or the accused?"

The Eraser Hero smirked faintly, setting his apple down. "Depends who's still standing at the end." He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. "Look, I'm not planning on babysitting grudges for the next semester," he said plainly. "This fight is necessary. You don't have to like it, but you do have to get through it. Your time here depends on it."

Ashley gritted her teeth but held back her response. She knew arguing wouldn't get her anywhere.

"That said," Aizawa continued, "I'm not completely heartless. I'll give you some grace before the exam."

She blinked. "Grace?" That was a word she never expected to hear from him nor received in her lifetime.

"You'll get assistance," he clarified. "You'll still partner with Ashido since your Quirk is similar to hers."

"Thank Esdeath." Ashley exhaled slightly.

"And since Midoriya is already tutoring you, we might as well add some side-by-side battle practice," Aizawa added. "He'll provide pointers and suggestions before your exam."

Ashley rubbed the bridge of her nose before pinching her temple. At least there was some solace in knowing that Ashido and Midoriya would be helping her prepare.

Did it make up for being thrown into the arena with Bakugo and Uraraka? No. Not even close. But she would take what she could get.

Aizawa watched her for a moment before sighing. "Any questions, comments, concerns, cries of outrage?" He paused, then waved a hand dismissively. "Actually, don't answer that. The last one was rhetorical."

Ashley rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. "Gee, thanks." Of course it was met with dry sarcasm.

Aizawa ignored her sarcasm and stretched his neck slightly. "Besides, I've already had my fill of outrage from your mother earlier. That was an experience."

Ashley narrowed her eyes slightly. "My mom?"

"Yes," he deadpanned. "She called me this morning. I am not entirely sure what a fanook or a brewford is, but I do know it was enough to convince us that a bit of assistance before your exam wouldn't hurt."

Ashley stared at him for a beat. Then, despite herself, she let out a short, stifled laugh. "Yeah, that sounds about right," she muttered, shaking her head. She could only imagine what kind of colorful language her mother had thrown at UA's staff when receiving the call.

She still couldn't forgive her for what she had said the previous night.

Aizawa reached for another apple from the bowl, rolling it casually between his fingers.

"Tutoring starts after school this evening," he stated, his tone making it clear that there were no negotiations. "Your battle training will take place during PE and your elective period. I'll arrange with Kan-sensei…Vlad King to use the practice room, Midoriya and Ashido will assist."

Ashley exhaled through her nose, already dreading it. But at least she wasn't going in completely blind.

Aizawa continued, his gaze sharp. "Your exam is in two weeks. Practice. And practice hard!" He gripped the apple lightly, tossing it once before catching it. "Getting into this school isn't easy. Staying in is even harder. And if you think your classmates will make it easier on you—" He smirked faintly, taking a slow bite of the apple. "They won't!"

She bit the inside of her cheek, nodding begrudgingly.

Aizawa waved a hand in a lazy dismissal. "That's all. Get moving."

Ashley stood, resisting the urge to say something smart in response. Instead, she exhaled sharply, gave a half-hearted bow—more out of obligation than sincerity—and turned toward the door.

As she stepped out, her mind churned.

"Two weeks. Just two weeks until this nightmare becomes a reality."

The last thing she wanted was to deal with Bakugo again. She could already hear his smug, egotistical ranting in her head. He would love nothing more than to have a sanctioned excuse to throw down with her. But as she walked down the hall, the tiniest smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.

Nevertheless, she had to look at perspective. At least kicking his ass was more permissible. And if she had to fight him, then why not take advantage of the fact she could beat the hell out of him without getting prosecuted?

Meanwhile….

Renee stared at the phone screen, the generic hold music grating on her nerves. She already knew this was pointless. The cable company wasn't going to fix anything, and she didn't have the patience to listen to a robotic voice tell her that her call was "very important." With a scoff, she hung up, tossing the phone onto the coffee table.

She wasn't the type to waste time with strongly worded emails or polite complaints. That was for people who still had faith in bureaucracy. Renee preferred results, and if that meant showing up in person and making some underpaid customer service rep miserable, then so be it. She had energy to burn, and part of her wanted an excuse to unleash it.

Her fingers twitched. A cigarette. That's what she needed. She pushed off the couch and strode into the bedroom, reaching for her purse on the nightstand. Fishing through the clutter—lipstick, loose receipts, a bottle of aspirin—her fingers brushed against the crinkled pack of Mevius. Only two left. She sighed. Another errand, then.

Not that she had much else to do. Chet's "allowance," his words, not hers, kept the bills paid and the fridge stocked. There was no need to drag herself to a job, no obligations pressing down on her shoulders. She could hit the store, maybe browse for decor, make this place feel less like a temporary holding cell.

But she hesitated.

Their last home back in the States had been the same—bare, impersonal, suffocating. The walls had painted a lifeless beige, the furniture purely functional, as if warmth had been an afterthought. Even when they had things—art on the walls, bookshelves filled—it had never felt like a home. Just a place where she waited. A place where she drank.

Most days had blurred together in a fog of cigarette smoke and vodka, numbing the weight of her reality. The rest of the time, she was supposed to be a mother. Play the role. Say the right words. Go through the motions.

But she had never been good at pretending.

She then glanced at the half-open boxes stacked in the corner of her bedroom. She could unpack them, she supposed. It would kill some time. But just as she took a step forward, her phone buzzed from the coffee table. She rushed to the living room and saw the name flashing on the screen—Inko.

Not surprising. Renee had sensed something lingering beneath their last conversation when Inko dropped her and her kids off at the house. There was a hesitation in her voice, a weight in her words that told Renee this call was inevitable.

Renee had seen it in her eyes—the woman needed a friend. It made her wonder if she was particularly good at reading people or if Inko was just that transparent.

She remembered the way Inko had sat, stiff and uneasy, after the incident at the drink bar—when their kids had been detained. She had been wound so tightly, as if she expected the worst, yet still clung to the hope that everything would be okay.

Naive—that was what it was. But Renee couldn't bring herself to judge. If anything, she envied it.

There was something about Inko's innocence, the way she carried herself with unguarded honesty. It made her an open book—trusting to a fault. And in the wrong hands, that kind of honesty could be dangerous. It was the kind of thing that made people easy to manipulate, easy to break. But then again, that was just Renee's opinion. She had to remind herself that Western and Eastern customs were worlds apart. What she saw as naivety, someone else might see as virtue.

The phone vibrated again in her palm. With a breath, she answered.

"Hey, Inko."

The response was immediate, chipper and relieved. "Oh, Renee! I'm so glad you answered. I hope I'm not interrupting anything?"

Renee exhaled through her nose, her gaze flicking back to the half-unpacked boxes in the corner of the room. "Interrupting?" The only thing she had planned for today was maybe lighting up a cigarette, swallowing a fistful of pills, cracking open a bottle of vodka, and letting the afternoon slip away into nothingness. But she wasn't about to say that.

"No, you're fine," she said smoothly. "Just taking care of some things."

It wasn't a complete lie—those boxes had been sitting there for days, untouched.

"Oh, good!" Inko chirped. "I was just making my world-famous carrot cake, and I think I may have overdone it." There was a nervous little laugh on the other end. "If it's not too much trouble, would you like to come over and try some? I'd hate for it to go to waste."

Renee felt a smirk tug at her lips. "Called it!" This wasn't about the cake.

Inko needed someone to talk to. And despite Renee's initial assessment of her—sweet, a little naive, too trusting for her own good—she found herself not entirely put off by the invitation.

She kept her voice even. "I don't mind at all."

There was a slight pause. Renee recognized it instantly—hesitation. Inko was second-guessing herself, probably worrying that she was imposing. Maybe even regretting asking in the first place.

Renee decided to cut off the doubt before Inko could start backpedaling. "Really," she reassured her. "I don't mind. Besides, a little company wouldn't be the worst thing in the world."

That seemed to put Inko at ease. "Oh, wonderful! I can send an Uber to pick you up."

Renee blinked. "That's not necessary, I can—"

"I insist," Inko interrupted gently. "It's no trouble at all, really."

There was no room to argue. Renee hesitated for half a second, then decided it wasn't worth the effort. "Alright," she relented. "Thanks, Inko."

"Of course! It'll be there soon."

Renee hung up, staring at the phone for a moment before placing it back into her purse.

Well. That was settled. Words she thought as she sighed. Grabbing her purse, her fingers brushed against the pack of Mevius. A cigarette would have been her first choice, but instead, she grabbed her keys and headed for the door.

At least it was something to do.

Meanwhile with Ashley….

After speaking with Aizawa, Ashley made her way to the locker room to change into the basic Yuuei P.E tracksuit. She honestly hated the colours, she'd wish they were more to her style but her mother had made it damn clear it was this or running around naked and like hell would she do that especially with the perverts in her class. Once she was done she headed out to the training field, she was informed beforehand by Aizawa that normally they'd all be at ground beta for training but since she hasn't grasped full control of her quirk and neither she nor her mother submitted her hero costume she'd be wearing the tracksuit for the time being and they'd do basic physical health. As she joined up with her classmates she came face to muscle with a very large and all to familiar individual,

"Alright students! Since this is Miss Graves first physical health class with us and she is yet to fully understand her quirk, we will be doing the basics for the next week and a half." voiced All Might as he lectured them all. "Now some of you may have noticed young Bakugou is absent today-"

"Yeah because he attacked Ash!" shouted Ashido as she interrupted the former number one hero. "Not just that he also caused property dam-"

"Young Ashido enough!" Shouted All Might as he took back control of the situation. "Yes. Young Bakugou was detained last night along with both Graves siblings, however due to his destructive behaviour he's currently out of class for the next few days and upon returning he will be on house arrest." he continued while pinching the bridge of his nose. He wanted to move forward with class; however, Yaoyarozu decided to speak up.

"That's the part that's unfair though! Bakugou was the one who started the entire mess to begin with yet both Graves-chan, Graves-kun and Midoriya were all detained, with the latter of which only being there as he was protecting Graves-Chan from a self absorbed, self-righteous, self centred As-jerk!" catching herself before coming off as unladylike.

"Alright that's enough!" All Might stated before sighing and continuing "the staff at Yuuei were informed of what happened and yes, the rest of you have given your half of the story. All defending Miss Graves and saying how she had the right to defend herself, that is true it should not lead to property damage. Though slightly minimal it still put lives at risk and that's not what heroes are about." he then walked to Ashley before stopping in front of her. "I know what he did to you was extremely wrong and is classed as assault, though he was not properly charged for it he has been warned that if he tries something of that manner or anything more inappropriate with you again he will be charged and he will black listed. So if he does inform us, alright Miss Graves?"

Ashley nodded in response. She still couldn't believe what she was hearing. Not only her friends defending her and the entire class but also an actual adult understanding that for once she wasn't in the wrong. It felt like–what was the word–liberating. For once she didn't have to prove she wasn't the one at fault because someone wanted to get her in trouble or because a guy tried to take advantage of her and Andrew had to beat the shit out of the guy to protect her. She felt understood. All Might gave her a smile before speaking,

"Alright then, let us not speak further on last night and focus on today's class. Are you all ready to work beyond your limits!"

They all cheered before getting a move on and getting the class underway, but not before Ashido and Yaoyarozu giving Ashley reassuring nods to let her know. They have her back.

Back in the locker rooms…

Pain. That was all Ashley felt as her whole body ached from the amount of running and hard-core workouts she endured. They weren't kidding when they said she'd have to "Go beyond plus ultra!" She felt as though she went plus ultra and then some, though she got beat by everyone in class, even the dwarf grapist managed to do better than her and he still had the gall to hit on her. She swore the next time he made a remark about her incredible fat tits she was gonna stuff his ass in a fucking blender and feed that grape bastard to stray dogs.

"Fu.."pant"..fucking…grape..b…bastard!" was all she could say as she stripped off her tracksuit with the other girls doing the same and knowing her pain. "How…"pant"...how the fuck…do I…"deep breath"..do I get shown up by…a half pint future sex offender?!" she questioned.

"If it makes you feel any better, Ash, we thought you'd actually win that last round against Koda." spoke out Hagakure as she tried to make Ashley feel better about herself. Before a slam was heard from a locker closed which turned out to be Jirou.

"Bitch please! It's Koda." Jirou scoffed. "Fucking Koda. As in 'I'm afraid to raise my voice because I fear I'm gonna get called out' Koda. The dude who whispers so quietly, even his own animals have to get close to even hear him. Anyone could take him out–unless you're fighting him in a forest. In that case, congrats you've officially pissed off Mother Nature's favorite iceberg-headed doormat, because that daisy motherfucker is capable of summoning a bear stampede that's definitely gonna maul your ass like a couple of obese Americans at an all-you-can-eat buffet."

Jirou didn't hate Koda, really—he was a really sweet guy. But goddamn, did he need a personality transplant. Granted Midoriya, as awkward and mumbly as he was at the beginning of the year, eventually grew a fucking backbone. But Koda? Still the same quiet, jagged rock-foreheaded animal whisperer who's afraid making eye contact will kill him.

"Hey, lay off Koda!" Uraraka shot back, crossing her arms. "He's a sweetheart! He literally gave me a muffin last week—just because! Who else in this class is out here doing random acts of kindness like that?" retorted Uraraka as she defended the boy.

"Ochako, Koda gave everyone a muffin," Asui chimed in, her usual tone as flat and blunt as ever. She casually removes her socks, preparing for a shower like the rest of them. "Satou baked them, Koda was just being polite enough to hand them out. It wasn't some grand gesture of kindness—he was basically a muffin delivery service. It wasn't some heartfelt gesture, ribbit" she glanced at Uraraka, blinking. "If that's all it is then maybe it isn't just Midoriya who's your type."

She turned back to her locker, pulling out her shower supplies. "Face it, Ochako. Koda's sweet, but he's about as assertive as a houseplant, ribbit."

Uraraka scoffed. "Least I don't wanna fuck a depressed bird boy, who's costantly spouting crap like 'revelry in the dark' all the time like an edgy teenage Edgar Allan Poe wannabe."

"He may be an Edger Allan Poe wannabe but at least he can definitely show me a good time with his 'raven.' He might be dark and a bit crazy but he can get this froggy anytime, anywhere. Meanwhile you're too busy maxing out your funds at the spank bank over a certain green hero, ribbit," retorted Asui, shocking most of the girls except Ashley who was trying to hold in her laughter.

Then, Asui delivered the killer shot. She cupped her hands around her mouth and, in a breathy, exaggerated moan, attempted an impersonation of Uraraka's voice:

"Oh, Izuku! Yeah, right there! Fuck me with that dicku! Cream me! Cream me!"

The room exploded. Some girls gasped, some screeched, and Ashley was grabbing her sides with laughter. That statement alone made every girl speechless. Meanwhile Uraraka stood there, face burning, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. No one had ever expected Froppy — calm, composed, stoic Froppy-to come out swinging with something that raw and that savage.

"..Tsu, what the hell?!" Uraraka finally managed to sputter.

Asui just shrugged, completely unbothered. "You started it, ribbit."

"Tsu, I think that's totally inaccurate," Mina chimed in, grinning as she joined in on the roasting. "The closest Uraraka's getting to Dicku is mind sex—and even then, they probably won't even take their clothes off."

The girls lost it again, some cackling, others covering their mouths in shock. Ashley was straight-up wheezing, barely able to stay upright.

Uraraka, face redder than Kirishima's hair, threw her hands up. "Are you serious right now?! First Tsu, now you?!"

Mina just shrugged, her smirk only growing. "Hey, I'm just saying, babe—if Midori ever did lay it down, I feel like he'd break you before you even got past first base." She giggled. "Dude's got incredible strength, and you're out here acting like you can take it."

That was the final straw. The room erupted back into hysterics, leaving Uraraka groaning into her hands while Asui casually leaned against her locker, nodding in approval. "See? Told you."

Yaoyarozu's voice cut through the chaos like a whip. "Alright, that's enough!"

The laughter died down as all eyes turned to her. Half naked, she crossed her arms, her expression firm. "Neither of you have any room to talk." She shot Asui a stern look. "Tsu, you haven't even told Tokoyami about your feelings." Then, she turned to Mina, raising an eyebrow. "And you—your refusal to confess to Kirishima is the only reason Bakugou was able to blackmail you into letting the boys crash our girls' night."

Mina's smirk immediately dropped. "Oh, come on, that was a one-time—"

"Which ended with him assaulting Ash and property damage," Momo interrupted, exasperated.

The room erupted again, this time with laughter aimed at Mina and Asui, who both groaned in defeat. Uraraka, still flustered, crossed her arms. "See? This is karma."

"You're one to talk Yaomomo. How far have you even gone with Todoroki, huh?" asked Jirou. As everyone's attention turned to their ear-jack quirked friend.

"That's none of your business, Kyoka!" retorted Yaoyarozu. As she questions what's going with her.

"Oh please, you two have been soft with each other since he asked you out." Jirou shot back.

"That's something that's been on my mind, since Todoroki's hair is half and half does that mean the carpet matches the drapes?" questioned Hagakure as everyone looked to where they thought she was standing. The room fell dead silent for a moment–before absolute chaos erupted.

"Hagakure, what the fuck is wrong with you!?" Yaoyarozu shrieked, her face instantly turning crimson red from the question.

"What?" Hagakure asked, faking innocence. "It's a valid question!"

Jirou, struggling to breathe from laughter, holding her gut while wiping a tear from her eye. "Ho…holy shit Hagakure. Hahaha, I hate that I have to admit it but I also kinda wanna know."

Ashido was howling. "Oh my gawd! Could you imagine if it's like–split down the middle too?!"

Ashley, doubled over, wheezing as she could not believe what she was hearing. "Pfft, Like a yin-yang situation?!"

Uraraka, still recovering from her own roasting, looked horrified. "Oh my god, why the hell are we even talking about this! What the fuck?!"

Yaoyarozu's hands were shaking, as they were covering her face. "I-I am not discussing my boyfriend's–his–his personal grooming habits with any of you people!"

Hagakure giggled before giving a quick response. "So you have seen it!"

Yaoyarozu screamed into her hands as the entire room lost it again. That's when she decided to drag Jirou out since she was the one who started this entire mess.

"Well since we're talking about relationships, how's it going with your pikachu, Kyoka?!" Yaoyarozu questioned snapping the ear-jack heroine to a stand still.

"Th-That's nobody's fucking business, Yaomo-"

"Oh but it's your business to know everyone else's and tear into them?! So go on tell us how you and Spark Plug are doing. Seeing as you wanna drag shit out of the closet like your bisexuality."

Jirou immediately went red as she told Yaomomo in confidence. Granted some of the girls knew but Ashley didn't. She knows Kaminari probably would not care but she was taking her time with it and figured it out not too long ago. "You bitch," She hissed at Yaoyorozu, glaring daggers.

Yaoyarozu, arms crossed, arched a perfectly manicured brow "Oh, I'm the bitch? After you spent the last ten damn minutes roasting everyone else's love affairs? Please, Kyoka, sweet punk girl of my heart, do not. Dish it out if you cannot take it."

Ashido, who had been eating this entire spectacle up, gasped dramatically. "Wait, wait–does this mean Kaminari knows?" that's when she remembered how he straight up asked her to help him,

"Aww come on Ashido, we just want to get the chance to talk with the new girl is all. Just a little chat, please? I want to know more about her. Plus if we hit it off we could end up dating," Ashido felt sick as she wanted to tell one of her besties what her man was doing but held her tongue til they had a private moment alone.

Jirou bit her lip, looking anywhere but her own friends. "Not…yet."

"Oh girl," Ashley whistled. "You are so lucky he's an easygoing himbo, because if anyone else, they'd be pissed."

"I know, okay?!" Jirou snapped, moving her hands down from her face flushed. "I…I w..I was gonna tell him–I am gonna tell him, I just–" she groaned, "–I needed to figure my own shit first before doing so."

Asui, ever blunt as she was, tilted her head "so… does that mean you also like girls or just one girl?"

Jirou, still blushing furiously as to not attract the wrong attention or cause a misunderstanding "Oh my god, can we not do this right now?!"

Ashley, seeing the tension growing, decided to help Jirou out of the mess she created. "Can we get back to talking about how I'm supposed to train for a fight in two weeks time and I'm nearly out of breath from barely running." Spoke Ashley as she deflected everyone's attention onto other matters, which JIrou was grateful for.

"Agreed, I believe the best course of action would be–"

"Hold on a sec, Yaomomo." responded Jirou as she walked over to the wall before sending her ear-jack through the little hole.

…!

"Aaaah! My eye! Fuck! Jirou, you Nirvana, punk flat-chested bitch!" squalled the sounds of the dwarf Japanese grape headed pervert. As he grabbed his eye in pain wailing on the floor like a kid caught in the cookie jar.

"Next time you try to spy on us I'm dressing your ass up like a dog and taking you to the vets to be neutered, you Epstein fanboy go back to Jill since nobody else wants your ass!" shouted Jirou. Proud she got the little shit before he could get a glimpse of their bodies.

Now They could focus on assisting Ashley. But not before the entire locker room erupted into a fit of laughter as they heard Mineta writhing on the floor of the boys locker room as he was learning his lesson.

"Oh my god, Kyoka–'Epstein fanboy'? That's crazy!" Ashley wheezed, barely able to stand.

Mina was crying. "Kyoka, I swear to gawd, I've never loved you more than I do right now."

Yaoyarozu sighed, rubbing her temples. "Honestly, I'd say you overreacted, but in his case? Completely justified."

"Damn right it was," Jirou huffed, retracting her earjack with a smug grin. "Little bastard's lucky I didn't go for both eyes."

Uraraka, despite still being flustered from her earlier roasting, crossed her arms. "I told you guys we should've put duct tape over that stupid hole."

Yaoyarozu immediately created some spackle and covered the hole before the girls helped Ashley with her upcoming exam. While Uraraka was dealing with her own emotions. She couldn't understand why she hated Ashley so much, she barely knew her. But Maybe Bakugou was right,

"They looked so cute together."

"What do you think, Uraraka? Do they look like a cute couple?"

"You looked so beautiful together during that duet. As if you guys wanted more than just a song."

"C'mon, Graves, Sing a note. And you, Deku, why don't you join your new girlfriend?"

How he looked at Izuku before saying: "Leave who alone? Your new girlfriend, Ashley Graves?"

"Seems like Deku is defending his girlfriend, huh, Round Face?"

She was jealous….. of Ashley Graves.

Meanwhile….

"...so the plan was, they were gonna hide the diamonds in the Queen's ass!" Renee finished, leaning forward with a wicked grin.

Inko barely had time to react before a sharp laugh bubbled up in her throat. She clamped a hand over her mouth, but it was too late—she nearly choked, her body jolting as she tried to swallow the tea she had just sipped. A startled cough escaped, her eyes wide with shock and amusement. "R-Renee!" she gasped, thumping her chest as she struggled to recover. "You can't just say things like that!"

Renee smirked, watching with satisfaction as Inko dabbed at her mouth with the sleeve of her sweater, her cheeks flushed from the near-disaster.

"Hey," Renee said, leaning back against the cushioned seat of the kotatsu. "I just tell it like it is."

The kotatsu's warmth seeped into her legs, a stark contrast to the crisp chill of the evening air sneaking through the slightly open window. The soft hum of the television filled the space, flickering light casting a glow across the room.

A soap opera played on the screen, one that Renee didn't understand a damn word of, but even if she were fluent in Japanese, she doubted it would make any more sense. A distraught woman was on her knees, sobbing, her face streaked with mascara, begging a stone-faced man to take her back. The man, who was standing over her with all the energy of a bored accountant, barely blinked, his arms crossed, his jaw tight.

Renee scoffed, picking up her fork. "God, look at him. Have you ever seen a guy less interested in his wife?" She took a bit of carrot cake, barely suppressing a pleased hum as the flavors melted on her tongue.

She was no stranger to carrot cake—hell, she'd had plenty over the years, some good, some dry as sandpaper—but this? This was good. Moist, perfectly spiced, with just the right balance of sweetness in the frosting. She'd be a damn liar if she didn't admit it.

She took another bite and gestured toward Inko with her fork. "You know, you should open up a bakery. This would sell out like hotcakes."

Inko's eyes widened slightly, and then she laughed, waving a hand as if shooing the idea away. "Oh, stop," she said, shaking her head. "You're just teasing."

"I'm serious," Renee pressed. "This is good—like, dangerously good. You could make a killing selling this."

Inko shook her head again, though her blush deepened. "I wouldn't even know where to start. I just bake for fun."

Renee shrugged, setting her fork down with a clink against the plate. "If you ever did wanna figure it out, I wouldn't mind helping."

Inko giggled softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I'll keep it in mind," she said, though the thoughtful glint in her eyes told Renee that maybe—just maybe—she wasn't dismissing the idea entirely.

Inko set down her teacup and offered Renee a small, grateful smile. "Thank you for coming over," she said softly, then quickly looked away, her cheeks tinged with pink.

Renee raised an eyebrow, watching as Inko hesitated, clearly debating whether to say something more. She didn't rush her. Instead, she took a slow sip of her tea, letting the warmth settle in her chest as she waited.

Finally, Inko took a breath and spoke. "I also wanted to thank you for…for keeping your composure at the precinct," she admitted, her fingers twisting slightly around the hem of her sweater. "I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't been there."

Renee said nothing, simply taking another sip of tea. She had let Inko have her moment that day, let her process everything in her own way.

Even now, she could see the lingering disbelief on Inko's face—the way her brows pinched together slightly, the slight furrow in her lips. She still couldn't fully grasp what had happened.

"I just…" Inko exhaled, rubbing her temple. "I still can't believe what Katsuki did at the drink bar. And that involved Izuku and Ashley." She shook her head, looking down at the tea in her hands. "But what really shocks me is how they held all of the kids, even after it was clear that Icchan and Ashley were acting in self-defense." She frowned, her voice dropping slightly. "The police should have handled it better."

Renee studied her for a moment, tilting her head slightly. "Sweet, trusting Inko." It wasn't that she didn't have an opinion on the matter—she did. But she chose not to say it.

Inko believed in the system, in the idea that the police would act justly if given the facts. That they would have sort things out fairly. Renee, on the other hand, knew better. She had dealt with law enforcement enough times in her life to understand that trust was a currency often spent without return.

She could've told Inko the harsh truth. That the police weren't always about justice, that the system didn't always work the way good people believed it should. But what was the point? Inko's view of the world was different, shaped by softer edges and a heart that wanted to see the best in people.

So, Renee kept those thoughts to herself.

Instead, she leaned back slightly, her fingers drumming lightly against the ceramic of her teacup, and simply listened. Because sometimes, that was all people like Inko really needed—someone to hear them out without breaking the illusion they so desperately wanted to hold onto.

Renee reached for the kettle, pouring herself another cup of tea, the steam curling into the air as she leaned back under the kotatsu. She took a sip, then glanced at Inko. "So, how's Izuku handling all this?"

Inko sighed, her fingers tracing absent circles against her teacup. "He…doesn't want to go back to the dorms," she admitted. "He asked to stay here for the night. And when we got home last night…" She paused, shaking her head as if still trying to process. "He tossed his clothes into a garbage bag and said he wanted to burn them. Then I caught him in the bathroom, scrubbing himself raw with a Brillo pad—trying to get the 'prison stink' off."

Renee nearly choked on her tea, swallowing it down with an effort. "A Brillo pad?"

She pressed her lips together, fighting back the smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. If Izuku couldn't handle one night in holding, she didn't even want to imagine what he'd do if he ever saw General Population.

"He'll live," Renee said simply, taking another sip of tea.

Inko bit into her lip, eyes flickering with something between admiration and disbelief. "How can you be so calm about this?" she asked, voice quiet but genuine. "I knew…I knew when Izuku entered UA that there would be risks. Fighting villains, dealing with injuries—that was all expected. But never did I imagine my son facing something like this. Being the accused."

"I guess I just have an aptitude for this sort of thing," Renee said smoothly, though she didn't elaborate.

Inko studied her for a moment, clearly debating whether to press further, but then Renee changed the subject. "What about Mitsuki?" she asked, tilting her head. "How did she take her son's arrest?"

Inko let out a breath that was a half a laugh, half a shudder. "Oh, the guards thought they were heroes compared to what Mitsuki did when she bailed him out." She shook her head, still looking stunned. "It took six guards to pull her off him when she wanted 'alone time' with him."

This time, Renee couldn't stop the laugh that threatened to escape. But instead of letting it out, she quickly covered her mouth and fazed a sneeze into her sleeve. "Huh. Dusty in here," she muttered, clearing her throat.

She didn't need to say it out loud—but serves the little brat right for messing with her daughter.

Renee's gaze drifted to the end table beside the couch, where a small picture frame caught her attention. The photo inside was slightly faded, but the image was clear—Izuku and Katsuki, much younger, standing side by side. Katsuki had a scowl on his face, arms crossed like he had better things to do, while Izuku beamed beside him, completely unfazed by his friend's attitude.

Renee scoffed lightly. "Some things never change."

She gestured toward the picture with her teacup. "So, how'd you and Mitsuki end up knowing each other?"

Inko glanced at the photo, her expression softening with nostalgia. "Oh…we've known each other for years," she said, her voice carrying the warmth of old memories. "We lived in the same neighborhood back when the boys were little. Mitsuki and I met at a park, actually."

Renee raised an eyebrow. "You two don't seem like the type to run in the same circles."

Inko chuckled at that. "We really don't," she admitted. "Mitsuki is…well, she's Mitsuki. She's loud, brash, and has no filter. But back then, we were both young mothers trying to figure things out. I was more on the quiet side, unsure of myself, but Mitsuki—she had this confidence, like she always knew what she was doing."

Renee smirked. "Sounds about right."

Inko nodded, then continued, her fingers idly tracing the rim of her teacup. "When Izuku was little, he looked up to Katsuki so much. He followed him everywhere, wanting to be just like him. They were practically inseparable. Mitsuki used to joke that Izuku was like Katsuki's shadow."

Renee glanced back at the picture, her lips pressing together. Given how things had turned out between their kids, she had a hard time imagining Katsuki Bakugo tolerating a "shadow."

Inko sighed, her gaze distant. "It wasn't always…easy. Katsuki has always been strong-willed, and sometimes that turned into something rougher as they got older. I think he felt the pressure of always being the best, and when Izuku didn't back down—" She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "—it created a divide."

Renee said nothing, just listening as Inko's voice took on a wistful tone.

"But even with everything, I never doubted that Mitsuki loved her son. She may be tough, but she's also fiercely protective. She'd never let Katsuki get away with too much."

Renee snorted, thinking back to the image of six guards dragging Mitsuki off her son at the precinct. "Yeah. I got that impression."

Inko laughed softly, shaking her head. "That's just how she is. She doesn't hold back—not with Katsuki, not with me, not with anyone."

Renee crossed her legs. "I gotta ask," she said, tilting her head. "Why stay friends with someone whose kid obviously doesn't get along with yours?"

Inko's lips parted as if to respond, but hesitation flickered across her face.

Renee didn't wait for her to find the words. "Look, I'm just looking at this objectively. From everything I've heard—and from what I've seen—Katsuki's a bad influence. More than that, he's a bully."

Inko flinched at the word, her hands tightening around her teacup. "That's not—"

"I'm not trying to be harsh," Renee cut in, holding up a hand. "I get that he's your son's childhood friend. I get that you and Mitsuki go way back. But from where I'm standing, it seems like she either encouraged his behavior or, at the very least, didn't do enough to stop it."

Inko shifted uncomfortably, and for a moment, Renee thought she might try to defend Mitsuki. But her expression faltered, her grip loosening slightly on the porcelain cup.

Renee exhaled through her nose. She wasn't about to lay everything on the table just yet. She wasn't ready to tell Inko about her first encounter with Katsuki at the small bakery.

'He's a hero, duh! Do you ask a dolphin how it swims? Or why does an eagle fly? Of course, you don't. That is what they are made to do. My favorite is asking if a swan knows how to dive.'

She hadn't had the heart to tell Inko that she had watched the whole thing play out, her fingers itching to step in—only for Andrew to beat her to it.

She could still remember that sharp look on Andrew's face, the way he had leveled Katsuki with an unimpressed stare before casually flipping the situation on him. The way Katsuki had visibly deflated under the weight of his own medicine.

She had wanted to laugh. Instead, she just watched, filing the moment away, a quiet confirmation of what she had already suspected. Katsuki Bakugo wasn't untouchable.

And from what she had seen, he wasn't half as tough as he liked to pretend.

But she wouldn't say that. Not now. Not to Inko.

Renee sighed, rolling her shoulders back. "Look, I shouldn't have said that," she admitted. "It's not my place to question your friendships. Mitsuki's been your friend for years, and who am I to judge that? I'm just a stranger looking in from the outside."

Inko shook her head gently. "No, I understand," she said. "And I'm not mad."

Renee studied her for a moment, noting the sincerity in her voice.

Inko exhaled softly, setting her cup down. "I know Icchan had a hard time with Katsuki," she admitted, her voice quieter now, more measured. "But I also grew up hearing things like 'boys will be boys' from Mitsuki and Masaru. I guess I just…trusted that Katsuki would grow out of it."

Renee hummed, tilting her head. "So, what? You figured his 'tough love' was just a way of toughening Izuku up?"

Inko flinched slightly at the words, her fingers fidgeting against the edge of the kotatsu.

"Izuku…he dealt with a lot of stress as a child," she murmured, her voice carrying the weight of something unspoken. She hesitated, looking down at the table as if searching for the right words. "A part of me always figured his troubles had something to do with Katsuki. But another part of me just…didn't know what to do."

Renee remained silent, letting the words hang in the air between them.

She could see it now—the regret in Inko's posture, the way her fingers trembled ever so slightly against the wood. The quiet guilt of a mother who had known something wasn't right but hadn't had the tools to fix it.

Renee tapped her nails against her teacup, considering her response. She could tell Inko what she really thought—that 'boys will be boys' was a lazy excuse for bad behavior, that ignoring the signs only let things fester.

But Inko already knew that. She didn't need to hear it from Renee. She had lived with the consequences. So, instead, Renee simply nodded and let the moment settle.

Renee shifted uncomfortably, rolling her ankles beneath the kotatsu. She wasn't used to sitting this low for so long, and the creeping numbness in her legs was starting to get to her. With a quiet groan, she pushed herself up to her feet, stretching out her legs to get the blood flowing again.

As she stood, she took a moment to really look around the Midoriya household. It was… nice. Cozy. The walls were lined with framed photos—some of just Inko and Izuku, others featuring extended family. Everything was immaculately organized, from the carefully arranged décor to the spotless countertops.

Renee let out a small hum, crossing her arms. "You know, I remember me telling you that my kids are unique in their own ways," she said, glancing back at Inko.

Inko nodded, smiling warmly. "Yes, I believe that every child has their own strengths and challenges."

Renee exhaled through her nose, nodding in return. "Yeah. I get that." She leaned against the back of the couch, tilting her head slightly. "Andrew's always been protective when it comes to family. Doesn't always think before he acts, but if he sees someone he cares about in trouble, he doesn't hesitate—even if it gets him into a mess."

Inko listened attentively, her expression soft with understanding.

Renee hesitated for a beat, then continued. "Ashley, though…she hasn't always had it easy. Raising her hasn't always been sunshine and rainbows." She scoffed slightly, rubbing the back of her neck. "Sometimes, it was just plain hard."

She let out a dry chuckle, shaking her head. "Honestly? That's part of the reason we're in Japan in the first place."

Inko's brows lifted slightly, but she didn't push.

Renee met her gaze, then sighed. "Look, I'm not gonna pretend I have any room to talk when it comes to childrearing. Lord knows I've made my fair share of mistakes." She crossed her arms. "But if there's one thing I can say for sure, it's that bullying should never be excused. Not for any reason."

Inko lowered her eyes slightly, fingers lacing together in her lap. The unspoken weight of their earlier conversation still lingered between them, but she nodded in quiet agreement.

Renee exhaled, setting her empty teacup down with a soft clink. She met Inko's eyes, her expression firm but not unkind. "I'm not gonna tell you who to be friends with, Inko. Mitsuki's been in your life for years—I get that. But if you really care about Izuku's well-being, you need to keep a better eye on things. Looks can be deceiving."

Inko's posture stiffened slightly, her fingers tightening around her teacup. A flicker of uncertainty passed across her face, as if she was caught between defending her friend and questioning the truth she had been avoiding for years.

Before she could speak, Renee gently cut in. "I'm not saying to cut her off. I'm just saying… be watchful. If Mitsuki really cares about her son like she says, then she should be doing better when it comes to his behavior." She let the words settle for a beat before adding, "A swan that dives without direction falls into oblivion."

Inko blinked, her lips parting slightly as if trying to grasp the full meaning of Renee's words.

Renee smirked, waving a hand. "Just something my grandmother used to say. Fancy way of saying: if you don't guide what you care about, it's bound to crash and burn."

Renee checked the time, then stretched her arms over her head. "Anyway, are you hungry? I'm buying lunch."

Inko blinked up at her before quickly grabbing her phone. "Oh! Let me find a good place. Something I think you'd like."

"Sounds good." Renee pocketed her hands, watching as Inko stood and padded toward the kitchen, scanning her phone for options.

As she reached the doorway, Inko paused. Without turning around, she spoke softly. "Thanks, Renee."

Then she disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Renee alone in the quiet warmth of the living room.

Renee exhaled, running a hand through her hair. "Damn, she really is sweet. Naive, but sweet."

As Inko scrolled through her phone, searching for a lunch spot, Renee cleared her throat. "Hey, where's the restroom?"

Inko glanced up. "Oh! It's just down the hall. The toilet is on the right, and the bath is further down."

Renee nodded and made her way toward the hallway. She spotted the small sign on the door indicating the toilet, but her attention drifted toward the slightly ajar bathroom door further down.

"Huh."

She stepped closer, curiosity getting the better of her. The difference in Japanese and American homes still threw her off—separating the toilet and the actual bathing area seemed strange compared to the all-in-one bathrooms she was used to.

Pushing the door open wider, she took a moment to observe. The room was immaculate, like the rest of Inko's home. The deep soaking tub sat neatly against the wall, the shower area clean and orderly. The scent of freshly laundered towels mixed with faint traces of soap and shampoo.

Then, something caught her eye.

In the corner, near the washing machine, sat a laundry bin. Inside, partially hidden beneath a pile of clothes, was a garbage bag.

Renee's brows furrowed.

"That's odd."

She took a step closer, recognizing the black plastic bag immediately.

Izuku's clothes.

Renee smirked, shaking her head. "Inko must've pulled them out of the trash." The kid probably chucked them in there the second he got home, but his mother wasn't ready to just throw them away.

On impulse, she knelt down and slowly peeled the bag open. The scent hit her first—fabric softener mixed with sweat, traces of the outside air, and something else. A lingering memory of the night at the precinct.

Her fingers brushed over the fabric, tracing the seams of the shirt, the slightly frayed cuffs of the sleeves. It was stiff in places, likely from dried soda or whatever else had spilled that night.

Without thinking, she sank down to sit at the edge of the tub, holding the clothes like they were something fragile.

Her breath hitched. Her pulse quickened.

She squeezed the fabric between her fingers, bringing it closer.

The scent was stronger now, more distinct. She inhaled deeply, letting the faint remnants of Izuku's presence sink into her senses.

Her chest tightened, her heart hammering against her ribs. It was overwhelming, intoxicating in a way she hadn't anticipated.

Then—

"Renee?"

She jolted, Inko's voice snapping her back to reality.

Renee's eyes widened. "Shit."

"Everything okay?" Inko called again, her voice coming closer.

Renee scrambled, stuffing the clothes back into the garbage bag, pressing it down as neatly as she could manage. She yanked the drawstrings closed and quickly stood up, brushing imaginary dust off her pants.

Forcing a steady breath, she composed herself and stepped out of the bathroom just as Inko reached the hallway.

"I, uh… confused myself," Renee said quickly, gesturing toward the other door. "Toilet's separate, right? Forgot about that."

Inko let out a small, amused laugh. "Oh, yes! It's a little different here, isn't it?"

Renee nodded, offering a tight smile before slipping into the toilet room, locking the door behind her.

As she pressed her hands against the sink, her reflection stared back at her in the mirror. Her face was flushed, her breathing still slightly uneven.

She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply through her nose.

She needed to calm down.

Sometime later….

Andrew removed his safety goggles and gloves, placing them on the desk with a quiet clatter. The sharp ring of the bell signaled the end of class. Exhaling, he rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck, then his knuckles, before standing up and making his way toward the door.

Before he could step out, a familiar voice called after him.

"Yo, Andrew-san!"

He barely had time to turn before Hatsume rushed toward him, practically vibrating with energy.

She grinned. "Gotta say, you really saved my baby earlier. That thing was on the fritz, and you handled it like a pro."

He smirked. "It was an easy fix. Felt like hot-gluing a loose wire."

Mei gasped, placing a hand over her chest in mock offense. "Excuse you! That was a preventive disaster in the making. Take the damn compliment, Graves."

Before he could argue, she slapped him on the back and threw an arm around his shoulders. "Come on, I owe you! There's a food truck off-campus that makes killer ramen bowls. My treat."

He hesitated, but in truth, his mind was elsewhere. He hadn't spoken to Ashley all day. No messages. No calls. And after this morning, he didn't feel right leaving things hanging.

"Nah, I'll pass," he finally said.

Mei raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What's the deal? Expecting someone?" Her lips curled mischievously. "Maybe a certain purple-haired someone?"

Andrew blew a raspberry, shaking his head. "Faunus, please. As if! I barely know the girl, and already you're trying to sail ships."

The steampunk teen giggled, giving his shoulder a playful squeeze. "What can I say? It makes things exciting. Not a lot of romance drama in the Support Department, y'know."

Andrew just huffed, shoving his hands into his pockets as he stepped toward the exit. "Yeah, well, keep that excitement away from me."

She only laughed in response, already plotting her next matchmaking attempt.

Mei trailed after Andrew as he scanned the campus, his eyes darting between students, searching for Ashley.

"So…you're looking for Shinsou, right?" she teased, tilting her head.

Andrew groaned. "Shinsou can do whatever the hell she wants. I'm looking for my sister."

Mei chuckled. "Ooooh~! I see how it is. You're gonna ask for Ashley's blessing first before you and Hitoshi make it official."

Andrew threw his hands in the air. "Oi! Holy Esdeath, Mei!" He turned to face her, exasperated. "Why the hell would you want me to get with a man-eating hustler who proudly calls herself a nympho? You do know your friend's history with guys, right?"

Mei feigned ignorance, knocking herself lightly on the head. "Oops! Must've slipped my mind."

Andrew shot her a look.

She grinned. "Oh, come on! Shinsou's not that bad. She just needs the right guy to settle her down."

He smirked. "Well, when you find that guy, let me know. I'll help you set them up."

Mei practically vibrated with excitement. "Ooooh~! Don't tempt me, Cowboy!"

"Please don't call me that."

They stepped into the commons, the afternoon sun draping the campus in golden light. Around them, students lounged on benches, chatted in small groups, or sprawled out on the grass, soaking in the warmth.

But Mei wasn't done.

As they walked, she continued listing reasons why he and Shinsou would make the perfect couple, stretching out her fingers to keep count.

Andrew just shook his head, chuckling. "Mei, with the speed you're rattling off these reasons, you'd make a killer auctioneer."

She gasped. "Oh! That could be a fun side gig!"

Andrew laughed. "Yeah, well, sell someone else on your matchmaking nonsense. I've got real problems to deal with."

A few minutes later….

Andrew stepped into the cafeteria, scanning the room for any sign of Ashley or one of her friends. As he walked, he pulled out his phone and tried calling her again, but it went straight to voicemail.

Hatsume, still trailing beside him, hadn't let up on her matchmaking.

"So, hear me out," she continued, undeterred. "You and Shinsou—power couple, right? You'd totally have that whole 'brooding duo' aesthetic. Ooh! Maybe matching hero outfits?" She tapped her chin, grinning. "And imagine the kids! I mean, with both of your personalities, would they be little chaos gremlins or quiet masterminds?"

Andrew sighed, rubbing his temples. "Mei, I swear to—"

….!

Before he could finish, someone slammed into him hard, knocking him off balance and sending him into the wall.

He barely had time to register the impact before his eyes snapped up.

Katsuki.

The blond kept walking, only pausing briefly to glance over his shoulder with a smug smirk.

Andrew exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders before brushing it off. It wasn't worth it. Not now.

"Hey, you okay?" Mei asked, her playful tone gone for a moment.

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he turned his head toward Katsuki's retreating figure and, loud enough for everyone nearby to hear, called out:

"Damn, you bark a lot louder now than you did in holding. Must've been real different when you those thugs holding you down in there whimpering like a puppy."

The cafeteria buzz died for a second. Katsuki stopped mid-step. Slowly, he turned, his smirk fading as his gaze locked onto Andrew.

Mei let out a low whistle. "Ohhhh, damn. Andrew?"

Andrew just crossed his arms, waiting.

Katsuki stopped just a few feet away, his glare razor-sharp. Eijiro was right behind him, grabbing his shoulder in an attempt to pull him back.

"Come on, man, let it go." Eijiro muttered, but before he could say anything else, Katsuki roughly shoved him aside.

His attention was locked on Andrew.

"What the hell did you just say to me, Graves?"

Mei tugged at Andrew's sleeve, a rare sign of caution from her. But Andrew barely acknowledged it, gently pushing her hand away as he took a slow step forward.

"I said," Andrew repeated, voice calm but laced with venom, "that it's not my fault your little Pomeranian ass got handled like a butter churner by the big dogs in the pound."

The cafeteria filled with whispers, a low murmur spreading like wildfire. Katsuki's eyes twitched. His jaw tightened.

"Shut the hell up, you shitty nerd," he snarled. "You don't know a damn thing about what happened to me yesterday."

Andrew crossed his arms, tilting his head slightly. "Oh, come on, Katsuki—a fine, tender piece of angry flesh like you? Prime pickings." His smirk widened. "So, what was it? A Rottweiler? A Tibetan Mastiff? Or maybe a Great Dane…hell, maybe even a Russian Bear Dog."

Katsuki's fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white.

"All that pent-up aggression," Andrew continued smoothly, "I bet every big dog in holding took one look at you and thought, 'Damn, I need a piece of that.'"

He took a step closer, his voice dipping lower.

"What's the matter?" His smile was sharp. "Mad that they filled you so much of that woman-deprived spunk, knotted you up inside and made you their bitch, that you had to take that rage out on me this morning?"

Katsuki's entire body went rigid.

Andrew just kept smiling. "Why so mad, Bakugo? Your rage is my rage too, right? If it weren't for what you did yesterday, none of us would've been inside."

The cafeteria had gone completely still. Even the whispers had died down.

Katsuki's breathing was heavy, his fists practically vibrating at his sides. Mei slowly stepped back. Eijiro, watching from the sidelines, ran a hand down his face.

"You think you're cute, don't you, extra?" Katsuki scoffed, eyes narrowing.

Andrew didn't answer. Instead, he smirked and blew a kiss in Katsuki's direction. "Cum and find out," he taunted, voice dripping with mockery. "Since you're so damn curious, prison frag."

The air in the cafeteria felt electric, charged with the weight of the brewing fight. Katsuki's fingers twitched, his breath sharp, his whole body ready to launch forward—

"YYYYYYYOOOOOOO!"

A loud, unmistakable voice cut through the tension like a whip.

Everyone's heads turned as Present Mic strode into the scene, his usually easygoing expression replaced with something far more serious. His sharp gaze landed first on Katsuki, then flicked to Andrew.

"Well? Either of you wanna explain what's going on?"

Silence.

Present Mic arched a brow, folding his arms. "Bakugo, we got a problem?"

Katsuki rolled his shoulders, gritting his teeth. "Tch."

"Graves?"

Andrew shrugged. "I was just grabbing some lunch." His voice was light, unbothered, as if nothing had just happened.

Present Mic didn't look convinced, but before he could push further, Katsuki exhaled sharply through his nose. "I was leaving anyway."

"Good. Because Nezu wants to see you in his office. Now!"

That got a reaction. Katsuki's jaw tensed, his eyes flickering with something unreadable before he shoved his hands into his pockets. "Fine," he muttered.

Present Mic turned to the gathered crowd. "Alright, show's over—move!"

The students scattered, some disappointed, others relieved.

Katsuki lingered just long enough to send a final glare at Andrew. When Present Mic's back was turned, he mouthed:

"You're dead, Graves. You're fucking dead. You and that bitch sister of yours, dead!"

Then, with a hard shove that sent Eijiro stumbling out of his way, Katsuki stormed out of the cafeteria.

Andrew simply exhaled, rolling his shoulders.

Met let out a low whistle. "Damn, Cowboy…you got a death wish or something?"

Andrew just smirked. "Nah. Just like watching him squirm. And stop calling me that!"

"Not a chance. A desperado like yourself showing bravado to Bakugo? Give yourself some praise, Cowboy."

"Never in hell."

"Whatever you say, Cowboy!" Mei tilted her head, watching Andrew closely. "So…is it true? What happened to Bakugo?"

Andrew shrugged his shoulders. "Beats me."

He knew the truth. He just wasn't going to tell Hatsume. The way Bakugo had reacted in his cell, the way his energy shifted—there were a lot of ways to interpret it. Maybe nothing had happened. Maybe it had. Either way, Andrew wasn't about to pass up the opportunity to make him squirm, especially when he now knew how twitchy Katsuki got whenever his masculinity was called into question.

Andrew glanced at his phone again, debating whether to try calling Ashley. But he already knew it would be pointless.

"Alright," Mei clapped her hands, switching gears. "Since we don't have time to grab lunch, I know a guy who can hook us up."

Andrew raised a brow. "Oh?"

"Yeah, dude from Class 1-B. Sells candy secondhand."

As they walked upstairs, Mei continued, "Nirengeki's got a connect—a wholesaler who gives him candy for pennies on the dollar."

Andrew snorted. "Right. Either that stuff's dirt cheap, stolen, or way past expiration."

Mei shrugged. "Either way, it's food and it's my treat. So, let's get it, Cowboy!"

When they reached the upper floor, they noticed a student slipping out of a classroom, eyes darting around like he didn't want to be seen. A few moments later, the door opened again.

Out stepped Shinsou.

She was sucking on a lollipop, casually flipping through a small stack of cash in her hand. Andrew turned to Mei, deadpan. "Are you sure you want to ship me with her?"

Mei let out a nervous laugh. "Hey, hey, heyyy, she's a work in progress."

Before Andrew could respond, Mei called out, "Hitoshi!"

Shinsou's lips curled into a smile as she spotted Mei. but when her eyes landed on Andrew, that smile turned into something slower, more deliberate. Her gaze dropped slightly before flicking back up, the look in her eyes sultry and knowing.

Andrew kept his face neutral, refusing to show anything.

Mei glanced between them, grinning. "Oh yeah. This is fun."

To be continued….