Enough

Izuku stood outside the doors of U.A., his fingers nervously scrolling through his phone. He had been waiting for a while now, hoping to see Y/N. It had been a few hours since the quirk assessment with Aizawa, and though she seemed fine afterward, Izuku couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. She had always been someone who preferred solitude, especially after intense moments like that, but still—he couldn’t help but worry.

He glanced at his phone again, debating whether or not to send her a message. It felt a bit too forward, but the hesitation didn’t last long. He quickly typed out, “Hey, are you okay? I was waiting outside for you. Thought we could hang out for a bit.”

The minutes ticked by without a reply. Izuku shifted from foot to foot, feeling the uneasy tension in his chest. He knew Y/N liked her space, but the silence made him nervous. Just when he was about to call it a day, his phone buzzed in his hand.

“Hey, I’m about to be in class. I’ll talk to you later, alright?”

Izuku blinked at the message, confusion furrowing his brow. Class?

He hastily typed a response, “Class? But Aizawa-sensei canceled class for the rest of the day. Did I miss something?”

He waited, his fingers drumming against the side of his phone. The reply came quickly, but it only deepened his confusion.

“Not the Hero Course class. The business class. It’s about to start.”

Izuku froze, his mind racing. Business class? He had known Y/N had been accepted into the Business Course, but this was new information.He had assumed she had switched to the Hero Course shortly before school had started, but apparently, that wasn't the case. The realization hit him like a wave.

A small smile tugged at his lips before quickly fading into a deeper curiosity. There was something about Y/N that fascinated him—something that had intrigued him ever since they first met. She was different from the others, and despite her quiet nature, she seemed to hide so much beneath the surface. The more he observed, the more he wondered what her life was really like, and what had driven her to keep so much locked away.

Izuku flipped open his notebook and started scribbling notes again, almost instinctively. He couldn’t help himself. Her mysterious nature, her strength, her intelligence—all of it seemed like a puzzle waiting to be solved.

“Y/N L/N – Unusual healing factor, superhuman strength and speed, highly intelligent, but clearly hiding her full potential,” he wrote, his pen flying across the paper. “Seems to avoid attention but excels when it matters. Potential for a major role in U.A.’s future?”

He paused, staring at his words. This is crazy, he thought, but couldn’t stop himself. There was so much about Y/N that he didn’t understand, and that made her all the more intriguing. Why had she chosen to pursue business instead of focusing entirely on the Hero Course? What did it mean for her future?

He shook his head, realizing how deeply absorbed he had become in his thoughts about her. He quickly closed his notebook and sent one last message to her, “Okay, I’ll talk to you later, Y/N.”

Izuku smiled softly as he tucked his phone into his pocket. For now, I’ll have to wait until I see her again, he thought. But one thing was clear—Y/N L/N was someone worth paying attention to.

Y/N sat at her desk in the business class, trying her best to focus on the professor’s lecture. The room was quiet except for the occasional scratch of pens on paper and the sound of pages turning. It should have been easy to pay attention. After all, she was a natural when it came to business concepts—strategy, economics, market trends, and risk management were second nature to her. But today, her mind refused to cooperate.

Her foot bounced rapidly under the table, betraying her restless thoughts. No matter how hard she tried to concentrate on the words spilling from the professor’s mouth, she couldn’t help but think about the earlier spar with Aizawa. She had been in the training field, sweating and focused on her moves when he had called her out. His presence was almost overwhelming in a way she couldn’t describe. Aizawa had always been one of her favorite instructors at U.A. His no-nonsense attitude, his straightforwardness, and his ability to see through people were qualities she admired. But today, it was different.

He’s so hot, she thought, her chest tightening at the memory. It wasn’t just his looks, although they were certainly nothing to scoff at. The man was a powerhouse in his own right, ruggedly handsome with a sharp edge that made him stand out in a crowd. But it was more than that. It was the way he moved during their spar—effortless, confident, and precise. Aizawa didn’t waste a single motion; every step he took had purpose, and every time his eyes locked onto hers, she felt like he could see right through her.

Y/N clenched her hands on the desk, feeling the heat spread to her cheeks. She couldn’t stop thinking about the fight. His quirk—Erasure—had completely nullified hers in the blink of an eye. She’d been expecting it, of course, but the way he used it to break down her defenses had left her stunned. And the calmness with which he addressed her afterward, like he hadn’t just bested her in a sparring match—like it didn’t matter to him that she had fallen short—that had shaken her more than she wanted to admit. 

Her foot bounced harder, a nervous habit she couldn’t control. The other students in the class seemed perfectly at ease, scribbling down notes and paying attention to the lecture. Meanwhile, Y/N was lost in her thoughts, unable to fully engage with what was happening in front of her. She tried to force herself back to the lesson, but every time she looked at the board or tried to read the professor’s notes, her mind circled back to Aizawa. The way his eyes had narrowed as he observed her every move, how his voice had been smooth yet firm, almost teasing when he’d told her that she needed to focus more if she wanted to keep up.

Focus, she reminded herself. She needed to focus. There was no time to get distracted by her thoughts about Aizawa. She couldn’t afford it—not when she had worked so hard to keep her true abilities hidden. Her quirk wasn’t something she wanted anyone to know about, especially not someone like Aizawa, who would definitely see through her carefully crafted persona if he even suspected what she was capable of. If anyone knew the full extent of her abilities, it would complicate everything. She was trying to lead a life as close to normal as possible, but every interaction with Aizawa made it harder.

Yet, even with all the warning bells ringing in her mind, she couldn’t push the thoughts of him away. The memories of the spar kept playing in her head. The way his gaze had never left her, even when she thought she had evaded his grip. The way his voice had remained calm, almost as though he were enjoying the challenge. Every move he made was calculated, efficient. It made her feel… out of place, somehow. She was used to being in control, used to being the one who set the pace, but with Aizawa, she had been nothing more than a student learning from a master.

Focus. Y/N’s foot bounced faster, and she bit her lip, frustrated with herself. Why was she so flustered by him? It wasn’t like she had never interacted with teachers before. She had sparred with plenty of other instructors, faced challenges from others at U.A. But with Aizawa? It was different. She couldn’t pinpoint what it was that made him stand out so much, but there was a certain magnetic quality to him. The kind of intensity that made it impossible to ignore him once he had your attention.

Her hands clenched again, this time against the edge of her desk. She had to get it together. She had never been one to let emotions interfere with her work. She couldn’t afford to be this distracted, especially in a class that was supposed to help her develop her business acumen. She was here to learn, to focus on building a future that was solid and secure. Not to get lost in thoughts about a teacher who was far beyond her reach.

But despite all of her attempts to rein in her emotions, she couldn’t help but feel a tug in her chest every time she thought about him. She couldn’t explain it, couldn’t make sense of it, but something about Aizawa stirred something deep inside her. Maybe it was his confidence, or maybe it was the way he didn’t seem to care whether or not she was paying attention to him. Whatever it was, it had left her flustered and distracted in ways she had never experienced before.

“Y/N,” the professor’s voice broke through her internal turmoil, snapping her back to reality. Her head snapped up, and she found herself staring at a few curious eyes from her classmates. They were all waiting for her response, some with raised eyebrows, others with a knowing look. Y/N blinked, feeling the heat rush to her cheeks as she realized she had completely zoned out.

“Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. What was the question?” she said, trying to mask the slight embarrassment she felt. Her voice was steady, but internally, she was kicking herself for letting her thoughts wander so far.

The professor offered her a small, amused smile. “I was asking if you had any insights on the latest market trends. You’re usually quite engaged in class.”

Y/N let out a silent breath of relief. At least she hadn’t been caught too off guard. She straightened up in her seat, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. Time to focus.

“Right,” she began, her confidence returning. “Well, given the current economic fluctuations, I think it’s crucial to focus on stability in the market while diversifying risk, especially with the global supply chains being so volatile lately.” She kept talking, leaning into her comfort zone and steering the conversation back to business matters. It wasn’t hard; this was her forte, after all. Business theory, data analysis, risk management—these were the things that came naturally to her. Still, even as she spoke, her mind kept drifting back to the spar with Aizawa. 

Focus, she reminded herself again. She couldn’t let herself be distracted.

But deep down, she knew that no matter how much she tried to push him out of her thoughts, Aizawa would be hard to forget. And maybe, just maybe, the next time she saw him, she wouldn’t be so good at hiding what she felt.

The staff room was quiet except for the gentle hum of the air conditioning and the soft clink of ceramic mugs being set down on the table. The day had been long, and the teachers had gathered for a brief moment of respite before heading back to their responsibilities. Yagi, ever the optimist and sunshine in the room, sat across from Aizawa, his mug of tea cradled in his hands as he took a sip. His bright, ever-curious eyes gleamed, reflecting his characteristic interest in everything and everyone around him. 

Aizawa, in contrast, was the complete opposite. He leaned back in his chair, his face as perpetually serious as ever, eyes hidden behind the messy bangs that framed his face. He stirred his coffee slowly, the motion mechanical, his attention not so much on his drink as it was on the thoughts that ran through his mind. Aizawa was someone who spent his time observing, analyzing, and keeping to himself. He had a reputation for being curt and often detached, though beneath the gruff exterior was a deep care for his students. The students of Class 1-A had his respect, though he rarely showed it outwardly.

“So,” Yagi began, breaking the silence in his usual upbeat manner. He placed his tea down with a soft clink and leaned forward slightly, his voice casual but with an underlying thread of genuine curiosity. “What do you think of the new students in Class 1-A?”

Aizawa didn’t immediately answer, his eyes not leaving the swirling surface of his coffee. The question was simple, innocuous enough—Yagi was known for asking such questions, usually in an attempt to connect with others—but Aizawa knew better. Yagi had a tendency to ask about things with the aim of understanding them, to probe deeper than surface-level answers. The fact that he was asking about Class 1-A suggested he had noticed something too. 

Aizawa let out a quiet sigh and finally spoke, his voice low and neutral, as though not fully invested in the conversation. “They’re all varying degrees of unremarkable.” He didn’t meet Yagi’s gaze, though he could feel the weight of his friend’s stare. “But, of course, that’s the point. To find those who have potential, those who can push past their limits. It’s always the same.” 

Yagi chuckled softly at the dry response, but there was no malice in it—just a warm, knowing amusement. “True,” he agreed, “but you must admit there’s something different about this year’s batch. I’m interested to see how they develop.”

Aizawa was silent for a moment. His thoughts drifted over the new faces he had observed during the first few days of class, the students who were brimming with energy and nervous excitement. It was the beginning of their journey, and many of them were still unsure of their place. But even in their uncertainty, there was a spark of potential. And yet, as Yagi had pointed out, there was something different about this group.

“Well,” Aizawa said slowly, his voice almost imperceptible against the quiet hum of the air conditioner, “there’s one student in particular who has caught my attention.” 

Yagi’s interest was piqued. He leaned in slightly, his playful smile never wavering, though there was a hint of seriousness in his eyes now. “Oh? Do tell,” he prompted, his voice curious but careful.

Aizawa’s gaze darkened, his eyes narrowing as he considered his words carefully. “Y/N L/N.” The name was said with a tone that was both flat and contemplative. There was something more beneath the surface, an undercurrent of something Aizawa wasn’t quite ready to admit. “She’s different.”

Yagi raised an eyebrow, intrigued. He placed his mug back down, giving Aizawa his full attention. “Different how?”

Aizawa took a long sip of his coffee, still not meeting Yagi’s gaze. “Her performance in the sparring session... she’s holding back. Too composed, too controlled. I’m not sure what she’s hiding, but I know it’s something. And… there’s something about her. She doesn’t quite fit with the others. It’s like she’s constantly calculating, thinking two or three steps ahead, even when she’s trying to blend in.”

Yagi’s expression shifted slightly. He wasn’t surprised—Aizawa was the kind of person who noticed the small, telling details that others overlooked. Still, hearing him speak about a student in such a way was rare. Yagi hummed thoughtfully and leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers lightly on the edge of his mug. “That’s interesting. Do you think she’s one of those rare students who has the potential to push the boundaries of what we expect?”

Aizawa’s gaze darkened again, his voice almost a murmur. “Maybe. But there’s more to it than that. She’s hiding something—something about her abilities. I don’t know if she even knows what she’s truly capable of. I can’t quite put my finger on it yet, but she reminds me of someone who would rather hide their strengths than reveal them too soon. She’s trying not to stand out.”

Yagi’s eyes narrowed, as though he were carefully considering Aizawa’s words. It wasn’t like Aizawa to be so cryptic about a student, especially one he hadn’t worked with much. “I see. And you think she’s doing it intentionally?”

“Definitely,” Aizawa muttered under his breath, irritation creeping into his tone. “It’s bothering me.” He rubbed his eyes for a moment, as though trying to clear away the frustration he felt. “She’s talented, but I can’t trust someone who refuses to show their hand. If she keeps this up, she’ll face her own limitations sooner or later. She’s not ready to take full advantage of her abilities.”

Yagi leaned forward, his expression softening with understanding. “I wouldn’t be too hard on her. Sometimes students don’t know how to handle their own power, especially when they’re still figuring out where they fit in this world. It’s possible she’s been through a lot. We both know how difficult it can be for students to find their place.”

Aizawa’s expression didn’t change, though his thoughts seemed to drift elsewhere. “Maybe,” he replied quietly. “But if she’s hiding something, it won’t stay hidden for long.”

Yagi smiled knowingly, his voice light but laced with a deeper understanding. “Sounds like you’re interested in her, Eraserhead.”

Aizawa’s eyes flicked toward Yagi, and for a brief moment, there was something flickering in them—a subtle shift, a small, imperceptible change in his demeanor. He quickly masked it, though, and his face returned to its usual stoic expression. “I’m not interested,” he muttered, his voice firm. “I’m just… trying to figure her out. She’s a mystery. And I don’t like mysteries.”

Yagi chuckled softly, clearly enjoying the teasing. “You say that, but I’m sure you’re more intrigued than you let on. You always were a sucker for those who make things more interesting.”

Aizawa didn’t respond, but there was a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he took another sip of his coffee. His gaze shifted toward the window, the quiet weight of the conversation lingering between them. Yagi’s words, however lighthearted they seemed, held a deeper truth—Aizawa was intrigued. The thought of a student who seemed to be hiding her true potential, someone who wasn’t quite what she appeared to be, had undoubtedly piqued his interest.

Yagi leaned back, his eyes twinkling with a knowing expression. “Well, Eraserhead, just be careful. You might be underestimating her more than you think.”

Aizawa didn’t respond. His eyes narrowed slightly, a quiet storm of thoughts brewing behind his usual detached exterior. Whatever it was about Y/N, he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was more than she seemed. And whether she liked it or not, he was going to figure her out—whether she revealed herself or not.

The classroom was quiet, with only the steady ticking of the clock breaking the silence. Y/N sat slumped in her chair, her face resting in her hands as exhaustion from late-night studying weighed heavily on her. The room was dim, and the cool air felt like a gentle embrace as her eyelids drooped. She tried to stay awake, but her mind was drifting in a haze.

Suddenly, the door flew open with a bang, causing Y/N to jump in her seat. The sudden noise shattered her drowsiness, and she blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to what had just happened.

“WHAT’S UP, CLASS?!” boomed a voice, full of energy.

Y/N looked up to find a man standing in the doorway, wearing a bright yellow jacket and sporting wild, spiky hair. His grin was wide, almost too big for his face. It was Present Mic, the eccentric English teacher known for his boisterous energy.

“Oh, just you, huh?” Present Mic said, his voice exaggerated with surprise. “Well, no worries, kid! We’ll have a blast anyway!”

Still half-dazed, Y/N rubbed her eyes and straightened in her chair. She had heard of Present Mic, of course. His voice was famous throughout the school. But she hadn’t expected to find herself the only student in his class today.

“I… didn’t think anyone else would be here,” Y/N mumbled, trying to shake off the drowsiness.

“HAHAHA! No worries, no worries!” Present Mic shouted, completely unfazed by her sleepy state. “We’re gonna make English SO MUCH FUN, you won’t even believe it! We’ll hit all the basics, but with a twist!”

Y/N sighed, her exhaustion making it hard to focus. “Right, but… I don’t think I’m going to be much help. I was just—”

“You’re gonna be GREAT!” Present Mic interrupted, spinning around and tossing a pair of sunglasses onto his face. “The class isn’t gonna teach itself, right? Now, let’s get down to business!”

He slid behind the desk, grabbed a marker, and slammed it onto the whiteboard, turning to face Y/N with a wide grin. She blinked a few times, still trying to make sense of the situation.

“Alright! Here we go, we’re starting with something easy—some common English phrases! Ready to learn how to be a pro in communication?”

Y/N rubbed her temples, half-dazed, but there was something about Present Mic’s energy that made her sit up a little straighter. His enthusiasm was contagious, and despite her exhaustion, she felt a flicker of curiosity.

“Alright, I’ll bite. What do you have for me?”

Present Mic pumped his fist in the air, as if celebrating a victory. “THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT!” He pointed at the board. “Let’s start with something simple. Repeat after me: ‘I’m feeling great!’”

Y/N, still fighting the pull of sleep, reluctantly repeated, “I’m feeling great,” her voice quiet but clear.

“YES! YES!” Present Mic cheered. “That’s what I like to hear! Now, let’s add some flair to it! Can you say it with some ENERGY?! I need you to make it POP!”

Y/N hesitated, but decided to humor him. She sat up straighter, forcing herself to push through the exhaustion. “I’m feeling GREAT!” she said, louder this time.

“THAT’S IT!” Present Mic shouted, raising his arms in triumph. “You’re a natural! I’m telling you, by the end of this class, you’ll be a superstar of communication!”

For a brief moment, Y/N couldn’t help but smile. Despite her exhaustion, it was hard not to get caught up in his infectious enthusiasm. Even though it was just one-on-one, it was hard not to appreciate how Present Mic turned the most mundane lesson into something fun.

She glanced at the clock, realizing that the class was just beginning. She might be the only student here, but for now, that didn’t seem so bad—not when Present Mic was giving her a personal lesson. Maybe, just maybe, this class wasn’t going to be so bad after all. At least, not if he kept shouting “ENERGY” every few minutes.

The hallway was dimly lit, the quiet of the evening settling over the building. Y/N stepped out of the classroom, feeling the weight of the energetic lesson with Present Mic still hanging on her shoulders. Her muscles were stiff, and her mind buzzed from the spar with Aizawa earlier that day. It had been a long one, and the cool air of the hallway was a welcome reprieve. She sighed as she made her way toward the exit, hoping for a moment of peace before her next task.

But as she turned the corner, she froze. Standing against the wall, his arms crossed, was none other than Katsuki Bakugo. She blinked, unsure if her exhaustion was playing tricks on her. What was he doing here? Bakugo wasn’t exactly the type to hang around unless he absolutely had to. He wasn’t one to linger in hallways or have pointless conversations.

Her gaze met his, and she noticed something that threw her off guard. He wasn’t glaring at her as he usually did. Instead, his eyes were fixed on the floor, and his posture was less aggressive. For the first time, he almost looked… hesitant.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, confused by the sight. “What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice steady, though tinged with curiosity.

Bakugo didn’t answer immediately. His gaze shifted, but he refused to meet her eyes. His jaw clenched, and his hand twitched at his side as if he was bracing himself for something unpleasant. The silence between them stretched for a moment before he spoke.

“I… wanted to talk to you,” he muttered, his voice quieter than she had ever heard it.

Y/N tilted her head, arms crossed as she leaned back slightly against the wall. “Alright. Talk.”

Bakugo hesitated, taking a deep breath as though preparing himself for something difficult. His mind was racing, torn between wanting to get this over with and wanting to run in the opposite direction. He couldn’t avoid it any longer. The guilt had been eating away at him for years, ever since that day—the explosion, her cry of pain, and then… nothing. She had disappeared, and he hadn’t known what happened to her. It was a constant gnawing worry at the back of his mind.

He had only known she was okay because, in a rare moment of weakness and curiosity, he’d stolen Deku’s phone. He had scrolled through the texts between her and Deku, reading every single message, needing the reassurance that she was alive and well. He even copied her number down. Every time he thought about messaging her, though, his pride and guilt had held him back. It wasn’t just about the fight anymore. It was about the fact that he had never gotten the chance to apologize.

“I…” Bakugo finally looked at her, his crimson eyes filled with frustration and a heavy dose of guilt. “I wanted to apologize.”

Y/N blinked, taken aback by the sudden admission. “Apologize? For what?”

“For burning you,” he said bluntly, though his voice wavered slightly. “Back then. During… that stupid fight. You disappeared after that, and—” He stopped himself, his words stumbling in frustration. His hands curled into fists again, but he quickly forced them to relax. “I never got the chance to say I was sorry. So… yeah. I’m sorry.”

For a long moment, there was silence between them. Y/N studied him, her expression unreadable, while Bakugo shifted awkwardly, his gaze dropping to the floor. His mind raced with the thought that he had made himself vulnerable, something he hated, and was waiting for her to tear him down for it. But instead, she said nothing for a long time.

Finally, Y/N broke the silence with a small, almost amused smile. “That’s what this is about?” she said softly. “You’ve been holding onto that all this time?”

Bakugo frowned, clearly frustrated. “Of course I have!” he snapped, his voice sharp but not accusatory. “You disappeared! I thought I—” He stopped himself again, shaking his head, a deep sense of regret filling him. “Doesn’t matter. I just… I needed to say it.”

Y/N looked down briefly, her mind drifting back to that day. She remembered the explosion vividly—the heat, the force that knocked her off her feet—but she also remembered that it hadn’t hurt as much as it should have. Her healing factor had kicked in almost immediately, taking care of the burns and leaving her with only the memory of the incident. She had been fine. She hadn’t held any grudge. But Bakugo didn’t know that, and it seemed like he needed to hear it.

“Bakugo,” she said finally, her tone gentle but firm, “it didn’t hurt as much as you think it did. I healed pretty fast. Honestly, I forgot about it until you brought it up.”

He blinked, caught off guard by her response. “What?” he muttered, looking at her in disbelief.

Y/N shrugged slightly, her smile still warm but soft. “I mean, yeah, it was shocking at the time, but I moved on. It didn’t leave a scar or anything.”

Bakugo stared at her, his mind reeling as he processed what she had said. All this time, he had been beating himself up, imagining the worst. And here she was, telling him it hadn’t even been a big deal.

“Then why the hell did you disappear?” he asked, his voice sharp, though no longer hostile. “You just… vanished. Like it never happened.”

Y/N’s expression darkened slightly, but she remained composed. “It wasn’t because of you,” she said simply, looking him directly in the eyes. “I had my own reasons for leaving. Things I needed to figure out.”

Bakugo studied her for a long moment, still trying to process everything she had said. He felt an odd mixture of relief and frustration. Relief that she wasn’t holding it against him, but frustration that he had assumed so much for all these years.

“Still,” he muttered, his voice softer now, “I’m sorry.”

Y/N smiled at him, her eyes warm and understanding. “Apology accepted.”

For the first time in years, Bakugo felt a weight lift off his chest. His usual defensiveness faded slightly, and he nodded curtly, a small but genuine acknowledgment of what had just passed between them. His old, familiar demeanor slowly crept back as he crossed his arms.

“Good,” he said gruffly. “Just… don’t think I’m going soft or anything.”

Y/N chuckled softly. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

She turned to leave, the air between them now noticeably less tense. As she walked away, Bakugo stayed where he was, watching her leave. For a moment, he felt a strange peace, as if a chapter of his life had just closed. He glanced back at her retreating figure, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. Maybe now, he thought, he could finally let go of the past.