The teacher’s lounge was unusually still. Aside from the faint clicking of computer mice and the occasional key being pressed, the air felt thick, as though the room itself was holding its breath. Fluorescent light hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow over half-empty tables and scattered mugs. A small group of the faculty had been called away to a meeting with the principal, leaving the rest to either work quietly or drift in their own thoughts.

  At the far end, Principal Nezu sat in his raised armchair, tiny paws neatly resting atop the polished surface of the table. The chair’s height made him level with everyone else, though his small frame gave him the odd look he was known for.

  It wasn’t a full staff meeting, but the topic had weight. Present Mic lounged across from All Might, his bright sunglasses reflecting the sterile light, while Eraserhead slouched to All Might’s right, hood pulled down, eyes half-lidded but sharper than they looked. He actually appeared to have slept, an unsettling change for those who knew him.

  Nezu clapped his paws together, the sharp sound carrying in the stillness. "I’m sure you all know why we’re meeting today. Yesterday’s event was unprecedented, and we should discuss it."

  All Might’s frown deepened. He’d been bracing for this conversation, but expectation didn’t make it easier to swallow.

  "First of all," Nezu continued, gesturing toward him with a small paw, "I suppose she didn’t tell you she was planning this, did she?"

  "No. I had no clue," All Might said, voice low, the weight of it settling between the four of them.

  Present Mic leaned forward, palms up in mock exasperation. "You’re all acting as if this is a bad thing. I think it could be really good for U.A.’s image."

  "What they’re worried about is Robinn herself, her history, her situation," Eraserhead countered flatly.

  Nezu nodded, his tone light but not dismissive. "That is part of my worry. But Yamada isn’t wrong in his reasoning. The most important thing is that we handle this correctly. The press is already hounding me for an interview with her."

  Eraserhead’s voice took on an edge. "Realistically, the public is split into two groups right now: those who believe her declaration and would likely support her, and those who think she’s just an eager teenager. The latter are mostly your fans, All Might."

  All Might sighed heavily, his gaunt shoulders shifting as if the conversation was a physical burden. "I’m aware. I know Robinn... online bullying and slander wouldn’t affect her. But we should still keep a close eye on her."

  Nezu cleared his throat softly, reclaiming the room. "I think our next move should be planning a public interview with Robinn. I’d also like to speak with her personally, in detail."

  All Might leaned forward, voice firming. "I don’t approve of her being in the public eye yet, she's just a first year. As her guardian, I won’t agree to an interview."

  Stolen novel; please report.

  "He’s right," Present Mic said, drumming his fingers on the tabletop. "From the time I’ve known her, she’s never been the 'public image' type. She’s got the height, the quirk, the whole larger-than-life thing going for her, people would eat that up, but she’s not even trying to play into it."

  Silence pooled in the room, the kind that felt like a hallway dead end.

  All Might pressed his hands to his forehead, voice low but decisive. "Aizawa. Yamada. Could you give me a few minutes with the principal?"

  Eraserhead grunted as he stood up. Mic made a small click of his tongue, finger-gunning his way out of the room.

  When the door closed, the air shifted, as if the tension had narrowed into a smaller space.

  "I’m not sure what I’m doing, Nezu," All Might admitted, eyes fixed on the grain of the table. "Robinn demanded to come back from America the second I told her about Midoriya. Not to mention how she got into U.A. I’m juggling a secret obligation with Midoriya and raising a daughter who wants to be the next me."

  Nezu hopped down from his chair, padding over to a small counter where a kettle rested. "You’re still inexperienced at actual parenting. And yes, you’ve been the Symbol of Peace for forty years, which hasn’t exactly left you time to practice. But now that you’re here at U.A., I’d suggest putting more focus on your little one. Both of them."

  The kettle clicked on, its low hum filling the pause. Steam began to curl upward as Nezu continued, almost idly, "I can’t really say much though, I’m just a smart animal."

  He looked back, meeting All Might’s eyes. "Toshinori... she may not be your biological daughter, but you should start looking out for her more. This whole situation has the tone of a 'look at me, Dad' moment.”

  All Might started to speak but shut his mouth, the movement small but telling.

  Nezu poured the water over the tea leaves, letting the rising scent of steeping leaves soften the room’s edge. "She’s made a radical choice. If we don’t support her, it could ruin her career. Making a claim like that and not following through will look very bad."

  All Might rubbed his temple. "I’ve tried talking to her. She’s been… different since she got back from America. Distant. Angry."

  "Then I’d like to talk to her," Nezu said simply, handing him a mug. The principal's tiny frame had to stretch to reach over the table’s edge, but his balance was precise. "Maybe she’ll speak more freely to a third party."

  All Might accepted the cup, the ceramic warm against his hands.

  "Frankly," Nezu added, "I thought she’d be the easier one to handle. No grand expectations, no handed down destiny like Midoriya’s. But she took things into her own hands. And you let it spiral by not acting."

  Outside the door, Aizawa had slid down until his back rested against the wall, knees bent loosely in front of him. Yamada stood beside him, arms folded, his foot tapping an idle rhythm against the floor. The muffled hum of voices seeped through the door, too indistinct to catch a word.

  "I didn’t think she had it in her to do something like that, if I’m honest," Yamada said, gesturing vaguely with one hand as though holding an invisible mic. "I like to play things up most of the time, but she really did come out of left field."

  Aizawa exhaled a slow sigh, the kind that carried a weight of unspoken thought. "It's not as unexpected as it may seem. As her homeroom teacher, I got briefed a bit more on her history. It’s striking how much she’s changed in the last five years, according to All Might."

  Yamada tilted his head. "Her history? Now that you mention it, I only got the basics. Adopted kid of the Symbol of Peace, rural background, the usual bullet points... I know we shouldn’t be peering into our students’ lives…"

  "But she’s a special case. I agree," Aizawa cut in. "Robinn lost her parents at a young age. Orphan at ten. Don’t ask me how... I haven’t been clued in. She ended up in All Might’s care after that. Practically raised herself. Even in her teenage years, she got a scholarship to study abroad, a special middle school hero course in America. Only one of its kind."

  Yamada nodded slowly, connecting dots in his mind. "So that’s why her English is so good. Who would’ve thought."

  "She might not look it," Aizawa continued, eyes half-lidded, "but she’s probably one of the most committed students in the school. All Might says she’s got no hobbies or interests outside of hero training and exercise."

  A small frown edged onto Yamada’s face. "None? That sounds rough. Maybe I should recommend some to her."

  The door clicked open without warning, startling them both. All Might stepped out, shoulders squared but gaze fixed on the floor. He didn’t say a word as he passed, the faint scent of tea trailing behind him, and headed for the teacher’s lounge.

  Inside, the low hum of computers filled the quiet space. All Might sat down, seeking something to occupy his mind. He pulled up the scouting requests for the first-year class. The list loaded in seconds, and there it was: Robinn’s name, sitting in first place, the most requested student by far.

  At the very top of those requests was a name he knew all too well.

  "Jeanist?" His brow furrowed. "What does he want with Robinn?"