"So," he said, watching her with that unreadable calm, "what were you so eager to ask me?"

  Robinn looked at him for a good minute, her eyes heavy with the weight of too many thoughts fighting for space. The room felt smaller for it, like it was holding its breath with her. Finally, she spoke.

  "What did you do after I left."

  Hawks’s gaze sharpened slightly. He leaned back on his desk, arms resting behind him, feathers shifting faintly at his shoulders.

  "I cleaned it up. Now you won’t get in any issues for unauthorized quirk use."

  "That’s not what I mea-"

  He cut her off smoothly, his voice quick but not harsh.

  "Robinn, you could have been expelled because of that. You used your quirk without authorization and basically trespassed, not to mention you almost killed a man."

  "I know that. I do... But I really don’t care because I was trying to save that girl." Robinn pushed forward, her tone rising just enough to cut the stillness.

  Hawks’s calm faltered.

  "And that girl is dead now, mostly because you intervened and acted rashly."

  Her expression sank. The air seemed to thicken. She stared at the floor for a heartbeat before straightening her back again, holding onto the last of her composure.

  "I had it handled. I swear I would have saved her."

  "And what happened?" Hawks asked, tilting his head.

  Her gaze dropped again, catching the reflection of the desk’s metal feet. It jolted the memory loose... the blood dripping down to the ground, the sharp smell of iron that hadn’t left her mind since.

  "I…" She straightened, speaking like she giving a debrief.

  "Buzzsaw had told me not to move or he’d kill the hostage, and I didn’t. I planned to give myself up, then slip out of whatever he used to restrain me when he wasn’t near the hostage and beat him. But before I could, my wrist suddenly jolted forward, like it was hit by something invisible. I’m pretty sure it was Twin Impact, the quirk of one of the interns from X-Less’s agency we partnered with."

  She stopped finally, her shoulders sagging as she let out a slow breath.

  "I’m sure he had no intention of causing that… and it... it was probably still my fault."

  Hawks had been listening in silence. When she finished, he pushed off his desk and walked toward the balcony, his steps light, measured.

  "I see… I was right in saying it wasn’t your fault then. Your plan wasn’t actually that bad for being improvised though."

  Robinn hesitated before following him. The praise caught her off guard... it wasn’t something she’d expected from him, especially not now. Her eyes flicked to him as he opened the balcony doors. The cold night air rushed in, carrying the faint hum of traffic below.

  The city stretched beneath them, lights scattered like tiny constellations over concrete. Hawks leaned against the glass railing, wings folding neatly behind him as the wind teased through his hair.

  "This is why I don’t like kids," he said, sighing. "You just complicate everything without bringing much to the table."

  The wind ruffled her ponytail, brushing strands across her face as she looked at him.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  "Then… why did you scout me?"

  He gave a small smile, barely there, but it softened his voice. For Robinn, it felt strangely reassuring. His presence, the steady wind, the city’s low hum... it all worked together, oddly calming her. For a moment, it felt like her guilt was being carried away by the breeze.

  "I originally wanted to scout someone from your class just to obtain firsthand information about the U.S.J. incident."

  That made her blink.

  "The U.S.J. Incident?"

  "Yep. I’ve been looking into it in my free time, but I needed more information."

  "Then why didn’t you ask me if that’s why you scouted me?" she said slowly.

  He shook his head, the smirk returning faintly.

  "I guess I just like talking to Tokoyami more, though he’s probably fed up with all my questions."

  "Tokoyami?" she repeated, her voice soft, curious. "But that still doesn’t tell me why you scouted me."

  He looked at her for a long moment before turning back to the glowing sprawl of the city. His feathers rustled faintly in the breeze.

  "I guess I just wanted a good look at the future Symbol of Peace."

  Her eyes widened slightly. Most people didn’t take her seriously when she said it. But Hawks did... his tone was steady, almost thoughtful.

  "I’m all for it, honestly," he continued. "Having a Symbol of Peace just means the rest of us heroes have to do less work. And that’s what I want… a world where heroes have time to spare."

  "And All Might isn’t doing it for you?" Robinn asked, half-challenging, half-testing.

  Hawks tilted his head, his voice quieter now.

  "Kind of? I mean, he gets the job done, but he’s not a god. Someone has to replace him at some point."

  "That’s my reasoning too," Robinn murmured. Her voice was soft but firm.

  Hawks straightened, stretching his wings once before folding them again. He patted her shoulder lightly as he turned back toward the office.

  "We’ll talk later. Go get some sleep. You probably need it."

  Robinn smiled, faintly but genuinely, and followed his order.

  "It is past my bedtime," she said as she passed him, waving goodbye before stepping into the elevator.

  The doors slid shut with a muted chime. As she descended, the warmth of Hawks’s office, its quiet, its simplicity, and the wind slowly faded, leaving only the memory of the calm he carried with him.

  And that was Robinn’s last day at Hawks’ agency. That night, Hosu burned. The Hero Killer was caught, Nomus appeared and then fell, and the world shifted just slightly, enough that U.A. called every student back before noon.

  Classes resumed, quieter, almost eerily normal. The halls looked the same, the sky the same clear blue, but something in her had dulled. The thrill Hawks carried, that strange weightless calm of his office, was gone now. It had been replaced by stillness. The kind that crept in and stayed.

  Weeks passed. Robinn went through the motions, training, notes, meals. Until the rhythm of it became almost comforting. The others noticed the distance, she never meant to make it obvious. She smiled when spoken to, laughed when prompted, even helped when asked. But there was a line now, invisible but unyielding.

  She had learned what it felt like to fail someone, even if it hadn’t been her fault.

  And once you learned that, it didn’t leave.

  Final exams came and went. Standardized tests, practical drills against robots, empty repetition that didn’t fill the hollow sense of stasis. The results didn’t surprise her. She passed the practical drills, as always.

  Summer approached. The sunlight grew sharper, the air heavier, and the laughter of her classmates felt louder than usual. They spoke of beaches, barbecues, and breaks. She nodded along, smiled when expected, but already knew she wouldn’t join them.

  It wasn’t bitterness. It was purpose.

  That night on Hawks’ balcony had etched itself into her, the quiet wind, the city lights, the strange comfort of being scolded and understood at once. That was the kind of world she wanted to protect.

  But it was also the night she realized something else.

  Heroes like Hawks… like All Might… they didn’t walk away clean.

  And if she ever wanted to stand among them, she couldn’t either.

  So, as the first days of summer break came, Robinn trained alone again. The rhythm of her breathing filled the silence, echoing faintly against the walls of the gym. Outside, the city lights blinked, unaware of her promise to herself.

  That she would become exactly what Hawks had called her that night...

  the next symbol of peace.

  Even if it meant breaking herself to do it.