Chapter 16 - Shattered Boundaries

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Your mind was blank. Just a moment ago, your thoughts buzzed like a swarm of bees, chaotic and uncontainable, but now... nothing. It was as if time had frozen around you. You stood there, mouth slightly open, unable to move, unable to speak. All Might was staring at you, his expression severe, as though you'd just crossed an unforgivable line.

"(L/N)-san," his voice broke through the stillness, his tone measured but firm. "Classes are important. Skipping them isn't going to help you control your Quirk. If you're afraid of the other students—"

His words were cut off when, like a splash of cold water to your face, your body snapped back into motion. You blinked, suddenly aware of the ground beneath your feet—or rather, the lack of it. You stumbled backward, your foot missing the edge of the step behind you.

The next moment, you were falling.

Your heart leapt into your throat, the world tilting as the air rushed past you, but before you could even register the danger, strong hands caught you by the waist. A gasp escaped your lips as you were pulled firmly back, pressed against the solid warmth of All Might's chest. His grip was secure but gentle, as though he were afraid you might shatter if he held you too tightly.

You didn't struggle. You couldn't.

His heart pounded under your cheek, the rapid thudding surprising you. All Might—of all people—seemed shaken. You'd always imagined him unflappable, someone who could keep calm in any situation. Yet here you were, in his arms, feeling his heart race against yours.

You stayed like that for a moment, frozen in place, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing, feeling the warmth of his body seep into yours. It was grounding. Comforting, even.

And then, in a voice so quiet it barely reached your ears, he whispered:

"Got you."

Those words sent a shiver down your spine, a mixture of relief and something else—something more dangerous—fluttering in your chest. Your eyes slowly opened, and without thinking, you tilted your head to meet his gaze.

His expression was unreadable, though his wide eyes betrayed a hint of something deeper. You couldn't stop yourself. Slowly, your right hand lifted, your fingertips tracing the line of his cheek, down to his jaw. And then, without hesitation, you let your fingers brush across his lips.

You froze.

What am I doing?

You knew exactly what you had just done, and there was no taking it back. The moment your fingers touched his lips, goosebumps prickled along your skin, the air around you thick with tension. You could feel the heat of his gaze on you, but he wasn't moving. He just stared, his mouth slightly parted, as if in shock.

Your hand trembled. Why weren't you pulling away? Why weren't either of you pulling away?

Seconds stretched into what felt like an eternity, and then, you felt it—a gentle touch. His fingers brushed against your arm, trailing up, slow and deliberate, until his hand reached yours. The warmth of his skin burned through you, setting your nerves alight.

Finally, you felt it—his hand, tentative at first, brushing against your forearm. The light touch sent a shock through your system, a burning trail left behind on your skin where his fingers glided upward, slowly reaching your hand. His touch was warm, strong, and far more delicate than you expected.

Your heart was thundering now, beating so fast it felt like it would leap out of your chest. Could he hear it? Could he feel it? There was no way he couldn't.

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