The run home was clean and even. Nothing wild, nothing exhausting, just a low, steady push. Robinn knew the route by heart, tracing sidewalks and alley cuts that shaved minutes off the commute. Her bag bounced lightly on her back, and her legs kept the same pace from school gate to apartment door.

  She didn’t feel tired. Just... used. The good kind. Muscles doing what they’re supposed to.

  Inside the building, she exchanged a quick bow with the neighbor watering potted lilies, then climbed the three flights without stopping. The door creaked slightly when she pushed it open.

  Home.

  The place smelled like clean air and faint tea. A narrow hallway led into the main room, low table, kitchenette, modest couch, her gear shelf stacked neat. Two toothbrushes in the bathroom cup. A nice minimalistic home but lived-in.

  She kicked off her shoes and dropped her bag with a soft thud.

  First, stretches. Then calf raises while setting water to boil. Then to the bathroom and back while brushing her hair. Her hands moved automatically. No noise or music. Just the quiet rhythm of domestic motion.

  The table was clean when she sat down to do her homework. She crossed her legs, cracked her knuckles once, and pulled out her notes and the neat stack of printed worksheets.

  It took her all of two minutes to get stuck.

  Robinn squinted at the math problem, pencil hovering mid-air. “...What does that even mean?” she muttered.

  It wasn’t the numbers, she could do those in her head, it was the way they worded the questions. All wrapped up in phrases like “demonstrate using logical steps” or “justify your answer.” She understood how to get to the answer, she just didn’t understand how they wanted her to explain it.

  Science was the same. The words on the page all made sense individually. Together, they may as well have been taunting her. Still, she didn’t stop. Just frowned harder, erased more than once, and kept at it.

  Half an hour later, she was still hunched over the table, eyes narrowed, when the door clicked. She didn’t move, didn’t look up, but her ears tracked everything. Keys rattled. Shoes off. A soft grunt, then a pause.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  All Might. Thin and slouched stepped into the kitchen.

  “I’m home,” he said gently.

  “Yeah,” Robinn replied without looking up. “So’s my impossible homework, apparently.”

  He gave a quiet chuckle and moved to set something on the counter. “Rough first day?”

  Robinn shrugged. “Classes were slow. I forgot how weird school over here is.”

  “Oh?” he asked, pouring himself a cup of water.

  She leaned back slightly, pencil tapping against her chin. “They don’t explain anything up front. Just assume you’ll guess what they’re looking for. The PE part was fine. I already knew the course.”

  “You get along with your class?” All Might asked curiously.

  Robinn’s answer was flat but not rude. “I didn’t really think about it.”

  All Might nodded slowly, staying by the counter. “Anyone stand out?”

  She hesitated just a second before answering. “Kirishima said something nice. Midoriya too. The rest just kind of... Eh?.”

  “Mm.” His mouth pressed into a line. “That’ll take time.”

  Robinn didn’t answer. She picked up her notes again, turning the pages back to her history notes, and quietly began working through the last set of questions.

  All Might didn’t push. He watched her for a moment longer before turning to prep something simple, rice and egg and a bit of salmon he’d brought home. The kind of dinner they’d both eat without talking much.

  Ten minutes passed. Robinn exhaled, dropped her pen, and pushed the finished worksheet into the completed stack.

  “All done?” he asked over his shoulder. “Yeah,” she said, standing and stretching her arms over her head. “Barely.”

  “Nice work.”

  She glanced at him, expression unreadable. “Thanks.” There was a beat of quiet as he served their food. Then, as he set the bowls down, he spoke again carefully. “I saw Midoriya after school.”

  Robinn blinked once but didn’t respond.

  “He had good things to say about you. About how focused you are.” He said as he grabbed his chopsticks.

  She sat down across from him, grabbed her own chopsticks. “That’s nice.”

  “And your classmates seem to respect that.” All Might states before beginning to eat.

  Robinn paused mid-bite. “I don’t think they care that much.”

  “They will,” All Might said with a smile. “Trust takes time. But I’m glad you’re showing who you are.”

  Robinn looked down at her rice. “I’m just doing what I’m supposed to.”

  “I know,” he replied, voice warm. “But that doesn’t make it any less impressive.”

  She didn’t smile. But she didn’t pull away either. They ate in silence for a few minutes, the clink of chopsticks and the quiet hum of the building filling the space.

  Eventually, she stood to clean her bowl. All Might watched her from the table, hands folded.

  “You’ve grown a lot, Robinn.”

  Her back was turned. “Not really.”

  “I mean it,” he said softly. “Even the way you hold yourself... it’s different.”

  Robinn set the bowl down carefully in the sink. She didn’t turn around. “You don’t need to say that every day Dad.”