The U.A. Sports Festival was in full swing, the energy of the crowd a constant hum that vibrated through the very foundation of the stadium. Between matches, the breaks were filled with analysis, replays, and the buzz of thousands of conversations about which student would become the next big hero.

Y/N had earned himself a break after several hours of commentary—his voice needed rest, and Present Mic had assured him he could handle the interim matches solo. "Go eat something! You've earned it! Plus, I heard Mt. Lady's been asking about you!" Mic had said with an exaggerated wink that Y/N had deliberately ignored.

The invitation had come earlier in the day, delivered by Kamui Woods with professional courtesy: Mt. Lady, Death Arms, and himself wanted to have lunch with U.A.'s mysterious new teacher. Networking, they'd called it. Getting to know the rising talent in hero education.

Y/N had agreed easily enough—it was just lunch, after all, and building relationships with pro heroes was part of his job now. Plus, free food was free food.

What he hadn't anticipated was Mt. Lady's... enthusiasm.

"Gojo-sensei!" She'd practically purred when she first approached him before the break, her hero costume drawing more than a few appreciative glances from the crowd. "I've been watching your commentary! You're so insightful! And that voice—has anyone ever told you that you have a really attractive voice?"

"Several people," Y/N had replied with practiced casualness. "Usually right before they try to arrest me or kill me. It's a mixed bag, really."

She'd laughed—that performative, calculated laugh that suggested she'd found him much funnier than he actually was. "You're hilarious! We have to have lunch together. I insist!"

And now here he was, on his way to meet them, but something else had caught his attention.

His Six Eyes, always active, always perceiving, had picked up two familiar energy signatures standing in a relatively isolated corridor beneath the stadium stands. Midoriya and Todoroki —alone, having what appeared to be a serious conversation.

Y/N had paused, instinct telling him this was important. He'd moved closer, staying just out of normal visual range but well within his enhanced perception, and listened.

Todoroki's voice was quiet, controlled, but carrying the weight of something heavy—something painful that had been buried deep for too long:

"My father is Endeavor. The number two hero. He married my mother for her quirk—an arranged marriage designed to create a child who could surpass All Might. I'm the result of that. His... masterpiece."

Y/N's hands clenched in his pockets, his jaw tightening behind the blindfold.

"He trained me. Brutally. From the time I was five years old. Pushed me beyond my limits over and over. And my mother..." Todoroki's voice cracked slightly. "She couldn't take it anymore. The abuse. The pressure. One day she looked at me and all she could see was him. She poured boiling water on my face. Gave me this scar."

That fucking bastard, Y/N thought, his cursed energy—or whatever passed for it in this world—flaring involuntarily. Endeavor. That piece of shit.

Suddenly, with crystal clarity, Y/N remembered every interaction he'd had with Endeavor since arriving in this world. The man's aggressive demeanor. His obsession with surpassing All Might. The way he looked at people like they were tools to be used. The calculating coldness beneath the flames.

Y/N had disliked him on instinct—something about the hero had set off warning bells immediately. But now he understood why. Now he knew what kind of man Endeavor truly was.

Not a hero. An abuser. A man who'd broken his own family in pursuit of glory.

Hate might be too strong a word, Y/N thought darkly. But liked? Definitely not. Actually, you know what? Fuck it. Hate is exactly the right word.

"What are you doing?"

The aggressive voice snapped Y/N out of his thoughts. He turned, slightly startled—a rare occurrence for someone with his level of perception—before relaxing when he saw who it was.

Bakugo stood there, arms crossed, his crimson eyes narrowed with suspicion and that perpetual scowl firmly in place. His hero costume was slightly singed from his previous match, and there was a bandage on his left arm from where he'd pushed his explosions too hard.

Y/N offered him a small smile, his demeanor shifting back to his usual casual warmth. "Ah, greetings, Bakugo. I'm just taking a break from all the commentary. What about you, hmm? Shouldn't you be preparing for your next match?"

Bakugo's eyes narrowed further. "Don't play dumb with me, you blindfolded weirdo." He jerked his head toward where Todoroki and Midoriya were still talking. "I know you're eavesdropping on Deku and that half-and-half bastard, aren't you?"

Sharp kid, Y/N thought with genuine appreciation. Most people wouldn't notice I was paying attention to something specific.

Y/N simply laughed—a genuine, warm sound that seemed to fill the corridor despite its quietness. "Caught me. What gave it away?"

"You went still," Bakugo said bluntly. "You're always moving—fidgeting, adjusting your blindfold, whatever. But you stopped. That meant something caught your attention."

"Very observant," Y/N said, genuinely impressed. "You'd make a good detective, Bakugo."

"I'm gonna be the number one hero, not some detective," Bakugo scoffed. "Now are you gonna answer my question or not?"

Y/N considered for a moment, then reached out and patted Bakugo's head—a gesture of affection that was probably inadvisable given the explosive teenager's temperament.

"Sometimes," Y/N said gently, "people need to have conversations without teachers interfering. Whatever Todoroki and Midoriya are discussing, it's between them. I'm just... making sure nothing goes wrong."

Bakugo's face flushed—though whether from anger at being patronized or something else was unclear. His ears had turned distinctly pink, and he swatted Y/N's hand away with more force than necessary.

"Don't treat me like a kid!" he snapped, but his voice lacked its usual venom.

"You are a kid," Y/N pointed out, still smiling. "A very talented, incredibly powerful, somewhat terrifying kid, but still a kid. It's my job to treat you like one occasionally."

"Tch. Whatever." Bakugo turned away, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Just... don't let Deku do anything stupid, alright? That nerd has a talent for breaking himself."

Y/N's smile widened. He cares. He'll never admit it, but he cares.

"I won't," Y/N promised. "Now go get ready for your match. I expect to see some excellent explosions later."

"Obviously," Bakugo muttered, but there was pride in his voice as he stalked away.

Y/N watched him go, unaware that his casual laughter and gentle head pat had left Bakugo's ears burning and his heart doing something weird that the teenager absolutely refused to analyze or acknowledge.

Stupid blindfolded teacher and his stupid nice voice and stupid head pats, Bakugo thought aggressively as he walked away. It doesn't mean anything. I don't care. I don't.

His flushed ears suggested otherwise.

Back in the corridor, Y/N checked on Todoroki and Midoriya one more time with his Six Eyes. Their conversation seemed to be concluding—both students looking emotionally drained but somehow lighter, as if sharing and hearing each other's burdens had helped.

Good, Y/N thought. They need each other. Midoriya needs to understand what drives Todoroki. And Todoroki needs someone who'll listen without judgment.

Satisfied that his students were alright, Y/N finally turned to head toward his lunch meeting—

And nearly walked into Kamui Woods, who'd apparently been waiting nearby.

"Ah, there you are, Gojo," Kamui greeted, his wooden features arranged in what passed for a polite expression. He nodded respectfully—one hero to another. "I was starting to wonder if you'd gotten lost."

"Sorry about that," Y/N said smoothly. "Got distracted making sure my students weren't doing anything reckless. You know how it is."

"I can imagine," Kamui replied, though his tone suggested he couldn't really imagine at all. Teaching wasn't part of most heroes' experience. "Shall we? The others are waiting."

"Lead the way," Y/N said, gesturing for Kamui to proceed.

"Do you know where we're eating?" Y/N asked as they walked.

Kamui pointed toward an area off to the side of the school grounds—a semi-private section where several tables had been set up for visiting heroes and VIP guests. "Over there. Mt. Lady and Death Arms are already seated. I believe they ordered appetizers."

As they approached, Y/N's Six Eyes immediately picked out the two heroes. Mt. Lady had changed out of her hero costume into something more casual but still attention-grabbing—a stylish outfit that probably cost more than most teachers' monthly salaries. Death Arms sat across from her, his massive frame making the chair look comically small, nursing what appeared to be a protein shake the size of a small bucket.

"Gojo-sensei!" Mt. Lady waved enthusiastically, her smile bright and calculated. "Finally! We've been waiting forever!"

"It's been seven minutes," Death Arms pointed out dryly.

"That's forever when you're starving!" Mt. Lady protested, but her eyes never left Y/N as he and Kamui approached the table.

Y/N settled into a chair—Kamui taking the seat beside him while Mt. Lady had strategically positioned herself directly across, ensuring maximum face-time during the meal.

"Thanks for the invitation," Y/N said politely. "It's nice to have a break from commentary. Present Mic has enough energy for both of us anyway."

"Your commentary was excellent," Kamui said genuinely. "Very analytical. You broke down the students' quirk applications in ways that even experienced heroes might not have noticed."

"That's what happens when you spend time actually teaching them," Y/N replied. "You learn how they think, how they move, what their instincts are. Makes it easier to predict their strategies."

"And you look amazing doing it," Mt. Lady added, leaning forward slightly. "That whole mysterious blindfold thing? Very attractive. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"Once or twice," Y/N said diplomatically. "Usually right before someone tries to hit me."

Death Arms chuckled—a deep, rumbling sound. "She's been like this all morning. Fair warning."

"I'm just being friendly!" Mt. Lady protested, though her smile suggested her friendliness had very specific intentions.

A server appeared—a student from the business course earning extra credit by working the VIP area—and took their orders. The conversation flowed easily enough, touching on the Sports Festival, the impressive quirks on display, speculation about which students would go far in their hero careers.

But Y/N's mind kept drifting back to what he'd overheard. To Todoroki's quiet confession. To the pain in a teenage boy's voice as he described years of abuse at the hands of his own father.

To Endeavor.

The number two hero, Y/N thought, his smile fixed in place but his mind dark with anger. A man respected by millions. Admired. Celebrated. And behind closed doors, he's a monster who broke his own family.

"Gojo?" Kamui's voice pulled him back. "You alright? You seem distracted."

"Just thinking about the matches," Y/N lied smoothly. "Trying to predict how the finals will play out."

"Oh, that's easy!" Mt. Lady declared. "That Todoroki kid is going to win. He's got such powerful quirk and perfect control. Plus," she added with a knowing look, "he's Endeavor's son. That kind of training and genetics? Unbeatable combination."

Y/N's cursed energy flared—just for a fraction of a second, imperceptible to everyone at the table but present nonetheless. His smile never wavered, but something cold had entered his voice:

"Genetics and training don't determine everything. Sometimes the strongest quirks come with the heaviest costs. Not all power is worth the price paid for it."

The table went quiet for a moment, everyone picking up on the subtle shift in Y/N's tone.

"That's... surprisingly philosophical," Death Arms observed. "Speaking from experience?"

"Always," Y/N replied, his casual demeanor sliding back into place like a mask. "Now, someone mentioned appetizers? I'm starving."

The conversation moved on, but Y/N's mind remained partially elsewhere. Thinking about Todoroki. About Midoriya. About Bakugo's unexpected concern for his rival. About all his students carrying burdens they shouldn't have to bear at fifteen years old.

And thinking about Endeavor. About what justice looked like when the law protected the guilty. About what responsibility looked like when you had the power to actually do something about injustice.

Not today, Y/N told himself firmly. Today is for the students. For their moment to shine. But soon...

Soon, he and Endeavor were going to have a very serious conversation.

One way or another.

Mt. Lady continued her flirting throughout lunch. Kamui Woods made professional small talk. Death Arms offered surprisingly insightful observations about hero work and student development.

And Y/N Gojo sat among them, smiling and nodding and playing his part.

While his mind planned what came next.