Robinn didn’t sleep that night. Her mind hadn’t slowed down since she spoke with Midnight. By four in the morning, she was outside, sitting on the cold concrete of her apartment balcony. She hadn’t really decided to go there, just drifted after hours of turning over in bed, restless and unsatisfied. The night air always did something to her nerves. Looking up at the stars, she tried to anchor herself in something bigger, forcing her thoughts skyward instead of letting them gnaw at the walls of her skull.

  The strangest part was that the person following her wasn’t what unsettled her most. It was the memory of Midnight’s hand on her shoulder, the softness in her voice, the look in her eyes. That combination stirred up feelings she couldn’t name and didn’t want to.

  She hated feelings. They made people reckless. They turned sense into noise and pushed logic aside, the same way "fun" did.

  She hugged her knees, curling tighter against the chill. The floor bit into her skin. She shifted positions again and again, muttering curses into the empty night. When the horizon finally bled into pale light and the sun cracked its way upward, she gave in and stood. If she couldn’t rest, she might as well move.

  Her morning routine went on as usual, except she skipped the exercise. Instead, she cracked eggs into a pan and stirred them around with little effort, wielding a spatula like it was enough. The bland smell of them filled the kitchen.

  Then a voice came from right beside her.

  She jerked, spatula raised like a weapon, only to see All Might leaning against the wall in his gaunt form, rocking his silver age pajamas.

  "You’re up early," she said, lowering the spatula.

  He gave her a weary smile. "And you look like you didn’t even get a blink of sleep. Nervous?"

  Her glare was all the answer he got.

  He sighed. "Look, Robinn, I just wanted to talk to you before you leave on your internship."

  "I already said we’re not talking about that." She turned the eggs just enough to keep them from burning.

  He shook his head, straightening up. "We aren’t." Then he stepped forward and pulled her into a hug. His bones pressed against her arms, sharp through his frail body.

  "Why are you hug-"

  "Please stay safe,” he cut her off. "I know I can’t stop you once you’ve set a goal. But be careful. This isn’t training anymore. You’re going into the real world." His voice, for once, sounded purely fatherly.

  She didn’t fight it, didn’t return the hug either. She just stood there with the spatula hanging in her hand.

  "Ok."

  "Promise me." he pressed.

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  The smell of scorched eggs broke the moment. She pulled away, killed the stove, and scraped the half-burned mess onto a plate. She sat at the table, eating without ceremony, while he stood nearby, watching her like he hadn’t gotten his answer.

  She finished quickly, rinsed the plate, and disappeared into the bathroom to brush her teeth and shower. When she came back out, her hair bundled into a towel, he was still there. Still waiting.

  Robinn passed him, went to her room, and packed for the two weeks in Kyushu. She emerged with a bag slung over her shoulder and a suitcase in hand. All Might hadn’t moved.

  "We both know our promises don’t hold up," she said at last. "So drop it."

  She shuffled into her shoes at the cubby, adjusted the strap of her bag.

  "See you in two weeks. Or at school, if you show up early enough."

  The door opened, then shut. Silence closed in behind her, leaving him alone again.

  The class gathered at U.A.’s gates, luggage stacked at their sides, the morning air still sharp with early chill. Aizawa stood slouched against the fence, scarf loose, watching over them with that half-awake scowl that somehow saw everything. He’d be escorting them to the station.

  Robinn drifted near the back, body heavy, eyes unfocused. She wasn’t really looking at anything until she caught the flicker of black hair, Midnight tugging Asui aside. Midnight’s hand on her shoulder, the hushed tone she’d used the day before, all of it came rushing back. Robinn forced herself to glance away.

  Her distraction was broken by Uraraka beaming right in front of her, practically face to face.

  "Hey Robinn! Good morning."

  Robinn actually stepped back, the brightness too much for her fogged brain. The cold seemed sharper all at once, her exhaustion making it worse. "Morning," she muttered.

  Uraraka went on chatting, cheerful as ever, but Robinn only half-registered the sound.

  The last of the stragglers trickled in. Aizawa gave a rough cough, about to address them, when another group filed into the courtyard. Class 1-B, marching behind Vlad, with Monoma of course strutting ahead like he was the one in charge.

  "You didn’t think your class was the only one going to internships, did you?" he called out, throwing himself into a dramatic pose.

  A wave of blunt replies from 1-A hit back. "No."

  "You’re late," Aizawa added flatly, eyes narrowing.

  Monoma’s scoff was instantaneous. "The protagonists always make a late entrance."

  Kendo stepped forward from behind him, her patience visibly thinning. "We were ready a while ago. Monoma was the last one to show up."

  The look on his face was pure betrayal.

  With that, Aizawa and Vlad exchanged a few clipped words and herded their students toward the station.

  The walk became a low roar of chatter, excitement, nerves, overlapping voices filling the crisp morning air. Robinn hardly heard any of it. She kept her gaze on the ground, rhythm locked in each dragging step. All she could think of was the train ride ahead, the chance to fold herself into a seat and finally catch some sleep.

  She hated this. She was built for early nights, early mornings, clean routines. Losing that rhythm was like walking in a body that didn’t belong to her.

  Uraraka and Asui spoke nearby, laughter bubbling in their conversation, but the words washed over Robinn like static.

  A tap on her shoulder pulled her back. Midoriya.

  She lifted an eyebrow. "What’s up."

  He blinked, maybe startled by how flat she sounded. "Oh, I just wanted to talk. We haven’t really spoken since the festival."

  "About what."

  He fumbled with his notebook, flipping it open to the page crammed with sketches and annotations of her. "Just wanted to confirm a few things about your quirk."

  She gave him a look that might’ve cut glass. "Now’s not the time. Worry about your own stuff."

  His laugh was awkward, hand rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, I guess not... Sorry."

  Still, she couldn’t help herself, her eyes snagged on one of his drawings. An arm jutting out a crude metal spike.

  "Where’d you even get that idea?" She jabbed a finger at it. "I can’t produce things. Only shift my own cells."

  Then she shifter her pointer finger... into... eraser? Without breaking stride she rubbed across the page, smudging his mistake out of existence. The absurdity of it almost made her grin.

  Midoriya’s expression lit up. Watching her lazily scrub out the sketch only fueled him, and soon he was scribbling fresh corrections with even more energy than before.

  By the time they reached the station, the chatter quieted down. Aizawa and Vlad called both classes together, their combined glare enough to silence forty students at once.

  "You’re representing U.A. out there," Aizawa said, voice carrying easily. "Show respect to the pros. Don’t disobey."

  No one argued.

  Then came the split. Students peeled off in groups toward their trains. Robinn heaved her things into position, suitcase, hero case, side bag tugging at her shoulder straps, and waited by the platform.

  Tokoyami appeared at her side with a wordless nod. She returned it, oddly reassured by his equally heavy presence. If her exhaustion dragged at her, his stiff posture practically shouted sore muscles. Misery had company, and that amused her.

  Two more students sidled over, scanning the sign above twice before stopping beside them. Pony Tsunotori, stumbling slightly over her Japanese, and Nirengeki Shoda, quiet and unreadable.

  "You guys are also going to Kyushu? What agency?" Pony asked, her accent rough but clear enough.

  Robinn hadn’t heard her speak before, her ear caught the foreign edge instantly. "Hawks’ agency. You?"

  Shoda tipped his chin up, his shorter frame forcing him to glance higher at her. "X-Less. It’s somewhat near Hawks’, I think."

  Robinn gave a single nod. "X-Less, huh."