It was a quiet afternoon at UA when everything seemed to unravel. The students gathered in the common room, each settling into their usual spots, chatting and unwinding after a long day of training. The tension, however, was almost palpable. Whispers had been circulating, and they were about to come to a head.
Kaminari leaned over toward Mina, holding his phone with a grin. "Hey, have you guys seen this? Jiro's been hanging out with a new group lately." He turned the phone screen to reveal a video—Jiro sitting with Izuku, Kaito, Ren, and Emi, laughing and taking part in the group's usual antics. Izuku, as always, appeared distant, his eyes hidden behind a cool indifference.
Mina's eyes widened. "No way! She's been spending all that time with *them*?"
"What's the big deal?" Kirishima chimed in, catching a glimpse of the screen. "I mean, they're just hanging out."
Bakugo, lounging on the couch nearby, scoffed. "Tch, Deku's turned into some punk. He doesn't even care about this place anymore."
Uraraka sat silently, her gaze dropping to the floor. She hadn't realized how much Izuku had changed, or how much distance had grown between them all. She thought back to the old Izuku—the one who cared about being a hero, about UA, and his friends.
"Jiro's been acting strange for weeks now," Iida said, his tone stern. "It's clear she's been keeping secrets, but why with them? And why has Midoriya completely checked out?"
Meanwhile, upstairs in his room, Izuku lay back on his bed, earbuds in, not a care in the world. The noise outside was muffled, irrelevant to him. In his mind, it was just him, his board, and the music. The pull of UA, of becoming a pro hero, had faded long ago. He had bigger things on his mind—things that had nothing to do with anyone else's expectations.
A knock came at his door. Slowly, he removed one earbud. "Yeah?"
Jiro stepped inside, her expression anxious but determined. "Izuku, they're starting to figure things out... about us. About me hanging with you and your crew."
Izuku didn't look up, didn't even flinch. "So?"
Jiro bit her lip, slightly frustrated by his lack of reaction. "They're asking questions. It's only a matter of time before they put two and two together."
Izuku shrugged, pushing himself off the bed. "Let them. What does it matter?"
Jiro hesitated, feeling the weight of his words. Part of her wanted to feel that same nonchalance, to act as if nothing mattered. But another part of her was scared—scared of the consequences, of the fallout from their classmates finding out. She wasn't like Izuku, not fully. She still cared about what happened at UA, still cared about her place among the others. But with him, everything felt different.
She moved closer to him, her heart racing, and without thinking, she leaned into him. Izuku barely reacted, his posture calm and relaxed. For him, it was just another moment. But for Jiro, it felt like she was crossing a line she couldn't return from.
"Do you ever regret it?" she asked softly, breaking the silence.
"Regret what?"
"Walking away from all of this," she said, her eyes searching his face.
Izuku's gaze remained steady. "No."
As the door creaked open, the class stood at the threshold, eyes wide in shock at the scene before them—Jiro, close to Izuku, the tension between them clear. No one spoke for a moment, but the silence said enough.
The realization hit them like a wave. Something had changed—Izuku wasn't the same boy they once knew. And Jiro? She was no longer standing on their side of the line either.
