Enough

Y/N lay in her hospital bed, the steady hum of the machines around her filling the sterile air. She barely had time to process the earlier conversation when the door creaked open again. A familiar figure stepped inside, his golden eyes sharp yet softened with concern. Hawks—no, Keigo Takami—stood at the foot of her bed, his wings folded neatly behind him, their crimson feathers a stark contrast to the pale, clinical surroundings.

“Well, look who’s back in one piece. Mostly,” he said, his tone light but tinged with something heavier—worry, frustration, or maybe both. Without waiting for an invitation, he pulled up a chair and sank into it, leaning forward, his elbows resting casually on his knees.

“Nice to see you too,” Y/N replied, her voice dry but lacking its usual sharpness.

Hawks tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as he studied her. “You know, you scared the hell out of me, Miss Quirkless.”

Y/N frowned at the nickname, her hands reflexively tightening around the blanket draped over her lap. “Don’t call me that,” she said curtly.

“Fine, fine. Y/N, then,” he conceded, though his smirk didn’t quite reach his eyes. “But seriously, do you have any idea how worried everyone’s been? You vanish, turn up burned to a crisp, and now you’re just… here. Acting like it’s no big deal.”

“I’m fine,” she muttered, turning her gaze toward the window. The city skyline shimmered faintly in the distance, a stark reminder of the chaos outside these walls.

Hawks’s expression darkened, his usual easygoing demeanor slipping. “Doesn’t look fine to me,” he said, his voice sharper now. “And don’t pull that ‘I’m fine’ crap with me. You’re lucky to be alive.”

Y/N remained silent, her fingers gripping the blanket as though it were her only anchor.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair as he ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m not here to lecture you,” he said, his tone softening. “But I’m serious, Y/N. You need to stay at my agency for a while. I’ll make sure you’re safe. No one will get near you—I promise.”

The suggestion made Y/N’s head snap toward him, her eyes narrowing. “No,” she said firmly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Y/N,” Hawks said, leaning forward again, his golden eyes locking onto hers. His voice dropped to something gentler, almost pleading. “You were attacked. Twice. Whoever did this to you isn’t going to stop. Let me help.”

“I said no,” she snapped, her voice rising slightly. “I don’t need your pity, Hawks.”

His wings twitched at her words, a flash of irritation crossing his face. “It’s not pity,” he said, his tone sharp again. “It’s—” He paused, exhaling deeply as he tried to rein in his frustration. “Damn it, Y/N, I’m just trying to keep you alive.”

She stared at him, her jaw tightening. “I’m alive now, aren’t I?” she shot back. “I don’t need your help.”

Hawks rubbed the back of his neck, his wings rustling slightly in agitation. “You’re so damn stubborn, you know that?” he muttered, more to himself than to her.

Y/N didn’t respond, her eyes drifting back to the window. The city lights blurred as her vision clouded with unspoken emotions. She hated feeling cornered, even when she knew his intentions were genuine. But she couldn’t give in—not to him, not to anyone.

After a moment of tense silence, Hawks stood, his expression unreadable as he looked down at her. “Fine,” he said finally, his tone clipped. “If that’s how you want to play it.”

He turned and walked toward the door, his footsteps deliberately slow. But before he stepped out, he stopped and glanced back over his shoulder. “One thing, though.”

Y/N’s eyes flicked to him warily. “What now?” she asked, her voice quieter, less defensive.

“Call me Keigo,” he said, his voice softer this time. “If you’re not going to let me help, the least you can do is drop the formalities. I’m not just some hero checking in on you. Got it?”

The unexpected request caught her off guard. She blinked, unsure how to respond. “What?”

“Keigo,” he repeated, his lips twitching into the faintest of smiles. “If you’re going to be this stubborn, you might as well call me by my name.”

For a moment, Y/N just stared at him, her mind reeling. She hadn’t expected him to ask for something so personal, not after everything that had happened. Finally, she nodded, the motion small and hesitant. “Got it… Keigo.”

His smile grew slightly, genuine for the first time since he’d entered the room. “Good,” he said simply. “Take care of yourself, Y/N. And if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

With that, he stepped out, the door clicking softly shut behind him. Y/N remained still, her gaze fixed on the now-empty doorway. The tension in her shoulders began to ease, but her mind was far from quiet.

She told herself she didn’t need his help, that she didn’t need anyone’s help. She had survived this far on her own, and she would keep surviving. But something about the way he’d said her name lingered in her mind, soft yet deliberate, like a thread tying him to her in a way she couldn’t fully ignore.

“Keigo,” she whispered to herself, testing the name on her tongue. It felt strange, unfamiliar. But somehow, it also felt… safe.

Y/N shook her head, pulling the blanket tighter around herself. She didn’t have time for this—whatever “this” was. There were bigger things to worry about, and she couldn’t afford to get distracted. Still, no matter how hard she tried to push the thought away, the sound of his name echoed faintly in her mind, refusing to be forgotten.

Y/N sat on the edge of her hospital bed, staring at her hands resting in her lap. The bandages had been removed, revealing smooth, healed skin where the burns had been, but the marks—decay-like and lingering—remained like a shadow across her neck and face. She absentmindedly traced the remnants of the scars, her fingertips brushing the cold reminder of what had happened. Despite the skin having healed rapidly, she rewrapped the bandages around her neck. She couldn’t afford anyone noticing how quickly her wounds had closed. It wasn’t normal, and she couldn’t afford to let anyone grow suspicious.

The door opened with a soft creak, pulling Y/N from her thoughts. A police officer stepped inside, his hat tucked neatly under his arm. He glanced at her before offering a small nod, his face unreadable, professional.

“Miss L/N, you’re cleared to leave the hospital,” he said, his tone neutral.

Y/N nodded silently, pushing herself off the bed. Her body felt stiff, the aftereffects of her rapid healing still weighing on her, but she didn’t show it. She’d never let anyone see her weakness. “Thanks,” she muttered, avoiding eye contact.

The officer hesitated, glancing at her with a level of caution that made her uneasy. “However, your apartment is still considered an active crime scene,” he added, pausing for effect. “You won’t be able to return there for the time being.”

At his words, Y/N’s stomach dropped. She hadn’t even considered that. Her apartment, the one place where she’d felt like she had some semblance of control, was now off-limits. The thought of her belongings, her life, being sealed away made her breath catch in her throat. “How long will it take?” she asked, her voice flat, though the faintest hint of desperation crept in. She could feel the weight of the unknown pressing down on her.

“Hard to say,” the officer replied, his voice sympathetic but firm. “We’re still gathering evidence. It could take a while.”

Y/N swallowed hard, trying to keep her composure. A while. The words felt like a weight that hung around her neck. How long could she keep going without a place to stay, without something familiar? “Right,” she murmured, her breath coming out in a slow exhale. “Thanks for letting me know.”

The officer cleared his throat, as if uncertain about his next words. “Do you have somewhere to go? A friend or relative who can take you in?”

The question hit her harder than she expected. She froze, her mind scrambling for an answer. A friend? A relative? The harsh reality set in. She had no one. No family to call, no friends she trusted enough to ask for help. It wasn’t something she liked to admit, but it was the truth. Her relationships had always been strained, her walls too high, and now she was left with no safety net.

“I’ll figure it out,” she said finally, the words coming out sharper than she intended. Her voice was cold, distant. She couldn’t let herself show how vulnerable she felt.

The officer’s brow furrowed slightly, but he didn’t push. He nodded, stepping aside as she grabbed her jacket—a worn, unfamiliar one she’d taken from the hospital’s lost-and-found—and draped it over her shoulders. “If you need any resources or assistance, you can contact the station. We’ll do what we can.”

Y/N didn’t respond immediately, brushing past him without a second glance. “Thanks,” she muttered, her voice hollow, the words falling flat in the sterile hallway.

They walked in silence to the hospital entrance, the heavy weight of the situation closing in on her. As they reached the door, the cold wind greeted her, sharp and biting, and she paused for a moment, standing on the threshold of the hospital. The officer gave her a curt nod before turning away, leaving her to face the world outside alone.

She stood there for a beat, her breath visible in the chilly air. The city loomed before her—tall buildings and bustling streets—but she felt like an outsider. She had no home, no place to go. She was a ghost walking through a crowd of people who didn’t even notice her.

Shoving her hands deep into the pockets of her jacket, Y/N started walking. The streets stretched out in front of her, a maze of unfamiliar faces and towering buildings. Where to go now? She didn’t have an answer. She wasn’t even sure what she was looking for. She only knew that she had to keep moving. Keep moving, keep going. If she stopped, if she lingered for even a second, the weight of everything would crush her.

As she walked, the city’s noise began to fade into the background. Her thoughts churned with uncertainty, with an ache that she couldn’t quite put into words. The officer’s words echoed in her mind—no home, no place to return to. She’d always been independent, always kept her distance from others. But now, without a roof over her head, she realized just how alone she truly was.

Her skin had healed, but the marks left behind by whatever had attacked her—physical and mental—would linger for much longer. The thought of facing another night without a place to rest gnawed at her. She couldn’t let herself fall apart. She couldn’t let anyone see how broken she felt.

For now, all she could do was keep moving, one foot in front of the other, hoping she’d figure something out before the night settled in, cold and unforgiving.

Y/N sighed as she walked through the bustling city streets, her jacket pulled tightly around her body, a futile attempt to shield herself from the crisp air. It wasn’t that the cold bothered her; in fact, she barely felt it. The numbing chill seemed to match her mood. Every step felt heavy, like the weight of the world was pressing down on her shoulders. But still, she kept moving. There was something comforting about the rhythm of walking, the hum of the city around her, and the feeling that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance to find some sense of normalcy again. Even if it was fleeting.

She had business classes at U.A. to attend, and though the idea of diving back into her routine felt a little hollow, it was the only thing that made sense. The thought of sitting aimlessly in her apartment—if she even had one to return to—was unbearable. She needed something to anchor herself, even if it was just the familiar structure of a school day.

Her fingers brushed against the edges of her jacket pocket, and she realized she hadn’t checked her phone since being discharged. She hesitated for a moment, but curiosity won out. She pulled the phone from her pocket and powered it on, wincing as the screen lit up to reveal a flood of notifications. There were missed calls, texts, and alerts—too many to ignore. She rubbed her temple as the sheer volume of messages seemed to hit her all at once.

The first batch of texts came from Hawks. She could practically hear his voice echoing through each line, full of urgency and frustration.

Hawks:
Where are you?
Call me the second you get this!
Miss Quirkless, answer your phone! This isn’t funny.
Y/N, I’m serious. If you don’t call, I’m coming to find you.

She let out a long, exasperated breath. He’d been freaking out, as she had expected. Hawks always wore his concern on his sleeve, even if he tried to hide it behind sarcasm. It was oddly comforting to know that someone cared, but she wasn’t ready to deal with him yet. The last thing she wanted right now was to have another emotional conversation, especially with him. He always seemed to draw her into it whether she liked it or not, and she wasn’t ready for that kind of vulnerability. Not today.

Next, she scrolled through messages from Izuku. Her chest tightened slightly as she read his words. Izuku had a way of caring that made it almost impossible to ignore him, even when she was trying to shut everyone out.

Izuku:
Y/N! Are you okay?
Please tell me you’re alright.
Everyone’s worried about you. Please call me back.

She frowned, her heart giving a little squeeze at the sincerity of his concern. Izuku was always so genuine, always so kind. It hurt to think that he was probably worried sick about her, but there was nothing she could say to ease that right now. She couldn’t bring herself to reply. Not yet. He didn’t deserve to be brushed off, but right now, she just didn’t have the energy to deal with his worry.

Then there were two unfamiliar numbers. The first one was from Momo, a person she hadn’t expected to hear from at all. Y/N raised an eyebrow as she read through Momo’s message. The kindness and softness in Momo’s words was like a breath of fresh air, completely unexpected but appreciated nonetheless.

Momo:
Hi, Y/N. It’s Yaoyorozu. I was wondering if you’d like to get dinner sometime? No rush, of course. Just let me know when you’re free.

Dinner? Momo wanted to get dinner with her? The idea of going out, sitting down with someone who wanted to spend time with her, felt foreign. But at the same time, it was strangely tempting. Momo had always been thoughtful, and the invitation felt like a lifeline in the middle of everything. Maybe some human connection, even if it was brief, could help her remember that not everyone was an enemy in this chaotic world.

But before she could process that thought, she came across the last message—the one she had expected, yet never truly got used to. It was from Bakugo. His tone was as blunt and abrasive as ever, but there was something in the way he demanded answers that made her stomach churn.

Bakugo:
Oi, why the hell weren’t you in class?
Don’t tell me you’re slacking already.
Whatever. Just show up next time.

Y/N snorted despite herself. Trust Bakugo to express concern in the most aggressive way possible. He never did have a good way of showing care, but she knew that beneath all the insults, he was probably more worried than anyone. She couldn’t bring herself to feel irritated with him; instead, she almost felt a little grateful that he hadn’t completely ignored her absence.

Slipping the phone back into her pocket, Y/N took a deep breath, her thoughts a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. She didn’t reply to any of them—not to Hawks, Izuku, Momo, or even Bakugo. She wasn’t sure what to say. She didn’t know how to explain everything she was feeling. Maybe she didn’t need to explain anything. Maybe she just needed time to process everything on her own.

As she approached the gates of U.A., she felt a strange sense of unease wash over her. The towering walls and familiar grounds should have felt like home, but instead, they only highlighted how much she felt like an outsider. The weight of the phone and its unanswered messages pressed heavily in her pocket, a constant reminder of how much she was shutting people out.

She stopped just inside the gates, pausing for a moment before continuing toward her classes. It wasn’t that she wasn’t grateful for the chance to get back into her routine, but the thought of facing her classmates and pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t was overwhelming. She didn’t have the energy for small talk or pretending to be something she wasn’t. But she couldn’t let them see how broken she felt either. If she could just get through the day, maybe it would be easier to ignore the doubts swirling in her mind.

With a deep breath, she pushed forward, heading toward her classroom. She could handle this. She had to. Even if the world felt like it was falling apart around her, she wouldn’t let herself fall. Not yet.

And maybe, just maybe, if she kept going, kept pretending that everything was fine, the pieces would fall back into place. She’d find her way again. She always did.

The faculty lounge at U.A. College was dimly lit, the soft hum of the air conditioning the only sound filling the room as the staff gathered around the large circular table. It had been an eventful 48 hours, and everyone could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on them. The kidnapping of one of their students, Y/N L/N, and her unexpected return had shaken everyone, though it was clear that the faculty were determined to address the matter calmly.

Toshinori Yagi, despite the visible fatigue on his face, sat with his usual quiet authority, his posture slightly hunched. Nemuri Kayama, leaning back in her chair, crossed her legs, her eyes scanning the room, while Hizashi Yamada, ever the vocal one, spoke up first.

"Alright, can we get on with this?" Hizashi’s voice was more subdued than usual, the seriousness of the matter not lost on him. “We need to discuss what happened with Y/N. The last couple of days have been... chaotic.”

Shota Aizawa sat to his right, his expression grim. He hadn’t spoken a word yet, but his presence alone was enough to make the room quieter. He’d been the first to respond when Y/N had been found, and his irritation had been clear throughout the entire ordeal. 

Nezu, the ever-intelligent principal of U.A., cleared his throat, his small form perched at the end of the table. “Indeed. Y/N’s return raises several concerns that need to be addressed. What we’ve learned over the past day has been... troubling.”

Nemuri adjusted her glasses. “It’s been a lot to process. We’re still trying to piece everything together.” 

At that moment, Recovery Girl entered the room, holding a stack of medical reports. She walked toward the table with her usual stoic demeanor, but there was an unmistakable weight in her eyes as she began to flip through the papers. 

“I’ve been reviewing Y/N’s medical reports,” Recovery Girl began, her voice as steady as always, but with a hint of concern in her tone. “There’s something we need to talk about regarding her health.” She glanced up at the group, her eyes sharp despite her age. “It’s come to my attention that Y/N has been in a state of severe malnutrition for quite some time.”

The room grew still as everyone turned their attention to Recovery Girl. Aizawa’s brows furrowed, his arms crossed tightly as he leaned forward.

“Malnutrition?” he repeated, his voice tinged with disbelief.

Recovery Girl nodded gravely. “Yes. The reports show that she’s been living in a state of starvation. She’s been eating just enough to survive for the past few years. It’s clear that this wasn’t something caused by the people who took her.” 

Toshinori’s brows furrowed in concern. “You mean she’s been like this for a long time?”

Recovery Girl’s expression softened with sympathy as she nodded again. “Yes, it’s been going on for years. Whoever took her—whether it was an individual or a group—didn’t cause this. This state of half-starvation was a pre-existing condition.”

“That’s...” Hizashi trailed off, his voice barely above a whisper. “That’s... heartbreaking.”

Aizawa, who had been listening closely, clenched his fists tightly. The thought that Y/N had been suffering all this time, hidden behind the walls she built around herself, left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“So, it wasn’t the kidnappers who kept her like this?” Snipe asked, leaning forward. He had a quiet intensity to his voice, always analytical in moments like these.

Recovery Girl shook her head. “No. From what I can tell, it’s been happening long before she was taken. She’s been withholding food from herself for years, likely out of some deep-rooted belief that she didn’t deserve it. It’s not something you can simply stop. This kind of behavior becomes a way of life.”

Toshinori looked deeply troubled, his features drawn tight. “Is it possible to help her recover fully from this? Is it too late for her?”

Recovery Girl sighed, flipping through more pages. “It’s difficult. Starvation over such a long period affects the body in ways that aren’t always easy to reverse. But with proper care, she can regain her strength. The issue is whether she’ll be willing to accept help.”

Aizawa glanced at the table, his mind whirling. Y/N was one of the more closed-off students at U.A., never sticking around any one group for too long. She was always keeping to herself, and despite having a few people she could count on—Izuku Midoriya being one of the few students who could get her to engage with others—she was, by all accounts, an island unto herself. 

He let out a sharp breath. “That explains a lot,” he murmured, more to himself than anyone else.

Nemuri’s voice broke the silence. “But the bigger question is—why?”

Aizawa glanced at her, his eyes narrowing. “What do you mean?”

Nemuri adjusted her glasses, pushing them up her nose as she considered the question. “Why would someone go through so much trouble to isolate themselves? Why not reach out? I mean, she has people who care about her. Izuku Midoriya, for one, is always going out of his way to check on her.”

“She doesn’t let anyone in,” Nezu said, his voice calm but firm. “Even Midoriya has only been able to get so far with her.”

“That’s what worries me,” Aizawa said, his tone low, almost dangerous. “She’s been closed off for so long that even when someone tries to help her, she pushes them away. That’s not something we can just fix with a few days of recovery. It’s a mental block as much as it is a physical one.”

“Do we have any idea how she knew Hawks?” Snipe asked suddenly. “That seems a bit strange. She’s hardly social, but she seemed to know him well enough that he wrote her a recommendation letter. From what I’ve gathered, she’s not exactly the type to just trust anyone.”

There was a tense silence in the room as all eyes turned toward Aizawa, whose jaw clenched.

“She has a past with him,” Aizawa said, his voice laced with tension. “A complicated one, it seems. She didn’t tell me everything, but I know they’ve crossed paths before. And I know she trusts him, at least in some way.”

Toshinori raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t make sense. From what we know of Y/N, she’s not one to open up easily, let alone trust someone like Hawks.”

Aizawa nodded grimly. “It’s something we’ll have to look into. But I suspect that there’s more to her history than we’ve been led to believe.”

Recovery Girl set the medical reports aside and looked at the group seriously. “We’re not just dealing with the physical scars Y/N carries. There’s a lot more going on beneath the surface, and we have to be ready for whatever comes next.”

Nezu’s small form seemed to sag slightly, though his eyes were sharp. “We need to proceed carefully. She’s going to need all the support we can offer, but we also need to respect her boundaries. The last thing we want is to push her further into isolation.”

Aizawa nodded. “Agreed. We’ll give her the space she needs, but we won’t abandon her.”

Toshinori looked around the room, his voice softer now. “Y/N’s going to need time. But we’re here for her. All of us.”

Aizawa’s expression softened for a moment, a rare moment of understanding between him and the rest of the staff. “And we’ll make sure she gets it.”

The room fell into a quiet resolve, each faculty member feeling the weight of what lay ahead. They all knew that the road ahead for Y/N would be long, but they were determined to stand by her. Whatever darkness she carried with her, they would help her face it—together.

The evening class was one of Y/N’s favorite times of the day. It was quiet, peaceful—a rare moment where she could gather her thoughts. Aizawa’s calm, steady voice guided them through the last problem of the session, and Y/N diligently copied it into her notebook. The soft rustling of pages and the occasional scratching of pencils filled the room, broken only by the faint hum of the overhead lights. It was almost therapeutic. There was something about the stillness of the classroom that helped her think clearly, to escape from the chaos of her life, even if just for an hour.

Her body still ached, a dull reminder of the injuries that hadn’t fully healed. They were healing fast, almost unnaturally so, but the pain still lingered, a constant companion that she tried to ignore. She couldn’t afford to let anyone notice. After everything that had happened, the last thing she needed was people asking questions she couldn’t answer. 

But for now, the classroom was her sanctuary. She allowed herself a brief moment of calm, of normalcy, before the next chaos of her life took over.

Then, the door to the classroom slammed open with such force that it rattled the walls.

“Y/N!”

The familiar voice made her jump, and she nearly dropped her pencil. She looked up to see Hawks standing in the doorway, his wings tucked behind him, though they were still large enough to make him seem even more imposing than usual. His golden eyes scanned the room before locking onto her, the smirk on his face widening as his gaze finally settled.

Aizawa’s irritation was immediate. His face contorted into something that could only be described as ‘disappointed but not surprised.’ He pinched the bridge of his nose, his usual deadpan expression now tinged with something more dangerous. "What are you doing here, Hawks?" he muttered, his voice barely above a growl. "This is a classroom, not a hero hangout spot."

Hawks seemed utterly unfazed. He pushed past Aizawa, stepping into the room with his trademark swagger, as though he owned the place. His eyes never left Y/N as he leaned casually against the doorframe.

“Hey, Miss Quirkless,” Hawks said, his voice playful and teasing, but there was something else beneath it—something that didn’t quite sit right with her. “Guess what? I rented us a hotel room for the night.”

The words hung in the air like a thunderclap, and Y/N froze mid-motion, her mind racing to catch up with what she’d just heard. A hotel room? For the night? 

Her heart skipped a beat. She looked at Hawks, then at Aizawa, her mind scrambling to make sense of the situation. 

Aizawa’s reaction was immediate, and it was exactly what Y/N expected. His glare darkened, his eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. “What did you just say?” His voice was low, menacing, and it sent a shiver down her spine. His whole demeanor screamed of a man who was not to be trifled with, and at that moment, he looked ready to do something drastic.

Hawks, seemingly oblivious to the storm brewing in the room, just chuckled and shrugged. “What? I’m just trying to help her out. She’s been through a lot lately. Thought she could use some time to relax without any distractions, y’know?”

Y/N’s stomach dropped as her eyes flicked back and forth between the two men. She could already feel her face turning red with embarrassment. This wasn’t going how she’d hoped at all.

Aizawa’s voice cut through the air like a knife. “Time to relax?” he repeated, his tone sharp and cold, like a blade being drawn from its sheath. “What exactly are you implying, Hawks?”

Y/N shot to her feet, panic rising in her chest. “That’s not—” she began, but Aizawa wasn’t done with his interrogation.

“What did you mean by renting a hotel room for her?” His voice was tight, suspicious, and his eyes bored into Hawks with a fury that she hadn’t seen before. Aizawa was usually calm, composed, but something about Hawks’ casual attitude was pushing him to his limits.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Y/N interjected quickly, stepping between the two. She tried to wave her hands to signal for calm. “No! That’s not what he meant! It’s not like that!” She hoped her frantic tone would at least convey that she was telling the truth, but her own embarrassment was threatening to consume her.

Hawks, completely unfazed by the tension in the room, flashed a grin that only made the situation worse. “Relax, Eraserhead. I’m a gentleman, okay? Nothing shady. Just making sure Miss Quirkless here gets some well-deserved rest. She deserves it after everything that’s happened.”

Aizawa’s hand twitched, his fingers itching as if he were resisting the urge to grab his capture weapon. “A hotel room?” he repeated, his suspicion still dripping from every word. “For a student? Are you serious?”

Y/N’s face burned even hotter. She could barely get the words out. “I didn’t agree to this!” she yelped, her voice rising in panic. “I didn’t know! He didn’t tell me until just now!”

Hawks, sensing that things were getting a little more tense than he expected, just leaned against the doorframe, utterly nonchalant. “Well, I couldn’t exactly not help you, could I? What kind of hero would I be if I let you deal with everything on your own?” He flashed a grin that seemed both smug and sincere at the same time.

Aizawa’s patience was clearly running thin. He crossed his arms and gave Y/N a hard stare, his eyes still filled with suspicion. “And you agreed to this?” he asked, his voice dangerously calm.

Y/N could feel her heart racing in her chest. “I didn’t!” she shouted, her face practically glowing with embarrassment. “I swear! It’s not what it looks like! I had no idea!”

Hawks, still oblivious to the tension, just chuckled. “It’s fine, Miss Quirkless. You need a break from all this anyway.” He stepped closer, a hand gently resting on her arm as he guided her toward the door.

“No, wait—” Y/N tried to protest, but before she could finish, Hawks was already ushering her out the door, his casual demeanor unwavering in the face of Aizawa’s furious glare.

Y/N glanced back at Aizawa, her panic rising. “It’s not what you think! I swear!” she called out, her voice high with desperation. 

But Aizawa didn’t respond, his eyes fixed on them as they walked out of the room. Y/N could feel the weight of his gaze on her back, like an unspoken promise that there would be consequences for this later.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Y/N whipped around to face Hawks, her cheeks flushed with humiliation. “What the hell was that?” she hissed, yanking her arm free from his grip. “You could have at least warned me! Do you know what you just did in there?”

Hawks raised an eyebrow, utterly unbothered by her outburst. “That?” he repeated, grinning. “That was me saving you from a boring evening. Trust me, you’ll thank me later.”

Y/N groaned and covered her face with her hands. “I swear to god, Hawks, this is going to haunt me forever.”

Hawks chuckled, looking completely unfazed. “Nah, don’t worry about it. Aizawa’s just overreacting. You’re fine.” 

But Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that things were far from fine. She wasn’t sure what she had just walked into, but whatever it was, it wasn’t going to be easy to get out of.