Chapter 45

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I stepped out into the night under the tired flicker of the outdoor lights, my hero costume hugging close like a second skin.

Not that I minded the suit- mine was badass. But walking around in it at night with no context? I felt like a dramatic cosplay reject on her way to a midnight photo shoot.

My shoes clicked against the pavement as I made my way to the front entrance, the air cool and quiet, shadows stretching like lazy cats across the ground.

I spotted him standing there under one of the streetlamps like some noir film extra. Hair tied up. Hands shoved into his pockets. Face unreadable.

"Great," I muttered, approaching. "Am I training again, or is this the punishment part? Lemme guess-forced patrol in a leather suit with no coffee? Or are you just trying to humiliate me in public?"

Aizawa didn't even flinch at my sarcasm. Probably immune to it by now.

"No," he replied, calm and boring as ever. "Your punishment is a mix of community service and additional training. I thought I'd make it efficient."

I raised an eyebrow. "So what, you're pulling a repeat of the Sports Festival? Gonna slap an 'intern' sticker on my forehead and drag me around all week?"

He turned, the sound of footsteps echoing just behind him- heels.

Heels at night. That could only mean one of two things.

Either a villain with terrible fashion sense -Daring- ... or a hero with an even worse attitude.

"I'm not going to be your supervisor," Aizawa said, already turning away. "She is."

I followed his gaze.

And then I saw her.

"...You've got to be shitting me."

There she stood, summoned directly from the fiery depths of my personal hell.

Her heels clicked against the pavement like nails tapping the lid of a coffin- my coffin, probably. Midnight stood there, poised and pristine, hair flawless, makeup like she was about to film a perfume commercial. She looked less like a hero and more like a walking ego trip in latex.

And I already felt my patience beginning to die a slow, painful death.


Why her?



I blinked, deadpan. "She's my supervisor?" I asked, pointing at her like I was accusing someone of a felony.

Midnight smiled sweetly. "Keep that attitude up," she said, voice light as a breeze, "and I'll make sure you pass out during graduation."

What does that even mean?

I squinted. "Try it, and I'll write a Yelp review about your perfume knocking me unconscious before your quirk even kicked in."

Aizawa cleared his throat loudly, interrupting before this turned into an actual showdown. The man looked as exhausted as ever, scratching his stubble like we were giving him a migraine just by existing.

"Enough," he said, almost groaning the word. "Yes, you'll go with Midnight on her patrol. This is part punishment, part... evaluation."

I blinked at him. "Evaluation?"

He nodded, sighing like I was pulling the words out of him with tweezers. "Yes. If this goes well, you can return to class."

My jaw practically hit the concrete. "Wait, hold on- you mean this is what decides whether I can go back to school? Not the license exam I passed? With flying colors, might I add?"

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