By the time the final bell rang, most of Class 1-A spilled into the hallway with the sluggish relief of survivors. Robinn didn’t look tired. Just focused. Same as always. A few students broke off toward the gates. Others wandered toward clubrooms or hung back to chat.

  “Hey,” Uraraka called, waving goodbye as she left with Tsuyu. “See you tomorrow!”

  Robinn lifted a hand in reply, but didn’t turn around and headed straight down a side corridor, one she shouldn’t really know.

  Midoriya noticed from the shoe lockers, eyes narrowing slightly. She didn’t hesitate at all. No pause. Like she’d walked that path a hundred times before. He stared after her a second longer. Then, without really thinking about it, he followed.

  The U.A. training facilities weren’t locked up yet. They wouldn’t be for a while, Aizawa encouraged students to train independently, and plenty of them did. But Robinn was already inside by the time Midoriya got there, and already warming up.

  He watched through the glass for a second. She wasn’t flashy. Just brutal, repetitive movement: clean strikes, timed footwork drills, muscle-control work that looked straight out of a pro hero gym. She wasn’t playing around.

  Midoriya stepped inside and Robinn paused when she noticed him, offering a nod without breaking rhythm. “Hey,” he said, walking over. “Didn’t peg you for a stay-after-hours type.”

  She smiled faintly, breath steady despite the workout. “I stay until I’m done. Not until the bell.” He nodded slowly, watching her transition into a one-armed push-up. Then into knuckle push-ups. “You knew how to get here.” He asked curtly.

  “What?” She replied without even looking up at him. “You didn’t hesitate. Not even for a second. You knew which hallway to take, which turn, even which keycard scanner worked faster. How?”

  She held her position for a moment. “I saw the route on the map” She replied.

  “That specific route?” Midoriya said pushing her on it a bit.

  Robinn glanced at him. Still smiling. “I like to be prepared.”

  Midoriya didn’t push it further, but his brain was already cataloging again. Either she studied the entire school map in detail... or she’s been here before. Maybe both. Midoriya shrugged it off with a half-smile. “Right. Prepared.”

  Then he set his bag down and started stretching, giving her space. Whatever she was hiding, if she was hiding anything, it could wait. For now, he needed the training as much as she did.

  The door slammed open behind them.

  “Tch. You extras already here?” Bakugo scowled as he stepped inside, dragging his bag and his ego behind him. His eyes flicked straight to Robinn, then to Midoriya. “Figures.” Behind him came Kirishima, more upbeat. “Yo, Midoriya! Sup, Robinn! Man, didn’t think you two would beat us here.”

  Bakugo muttered something under his breath, too quiet to catch. Then, louder: “I thought this was after hours. Not tryhard hours.”

  Midoriya glanced over, not rising to it. “We just got here.”

  “Still earlier than me,” Bakugo grumbled, storming toward the far side of the gym. “Hmph.” He dropped his bag with a thud, pulled off his shirt, and started stretching like he was prepping for war.

  Kirishima, trying to keep the mood light, elbowed him gently. “You’re just mad they got a head start.” Bakugo didn’t deny it.

  He didn’t even bother hiding the way his eyes kept flicking to Robinn. Watching her footwork. Watching the way she didn’t flinch under his presence. Watching how she acted like she belonged here, like this was her territory.

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  He turned slightly toward Kirishima, voice low but sharp. “That girl’s shifty.” Kirishima blinked. “Eh? She seems chill to me.”

  “She’s not chill. She’s hiding something.” Bakugo said as his eyes narrowed further.

  “You’re always saying that about people.” Kirishima replied as he set his own bag down.

  Bakugo didn’t respond. Just dropped into a plank position and then started burning through a brutal round of push-ups, each one punctuated with tension.

  The gym settled into a rhythm. Three zones, three energies.

  Robinn stuck to her own corner, rotating between planks, low squats, timed sprints along the wall, and endless controlled footwork. It was all precision. Not once did she stop to check her phone or even breathe too loud.

  Midoriya kept to himself too, weights, resistance bands, balance drills. Everything cautious, controlled. Still, his gaze drifted often. Every time Robinn moved past, every time her steps fell into a familiar pattern. Like she’d done this a thousand times.

  Bakugo made his presence impossible to ignore... explosive reps on the bench press, metal clanging with each drop. Kirishima tried to keep up beside him, puffing hard but smiling through it.

  Between sets, Kirishima leaned on his knees and glanced over. “Hey, Robinn, right? You do endurance stuff?” She nodded mid-stretch. “Mostly. Hero work isn’t a sprint.”

  Kirishima chuckled, tossing his towel onto his shoulder. “Man, I can barely survive the long-distance tests in PE.”

  Robinn smiled faintly. “You’ll build it.”

  Bakugo scoffed from the bench. “Don’t gas her up. She already thinks she’s hot shit.”

  “I don’t,” Robinn replied flatly, not breaking form.

  Bakugo snorted, wiping his face with his sleeve. “Sure you don’t.”

  The rest of the session passed in focused silence, only the thud of shoes and controlled breaths echoing across the space. A quiet grind. Eventually, the door creaked open. Cementoss peeked in, still in uniform, sipping tea from a thermos.

  “You four still hanging around?” he asked, voice half-curious, half-impressed. “Gym closes in ten. Unless you’re planning to move in, time to wrap it up.”

  Midoriya jolted slightly, already reaching for his towel. “Yes, sir.”

  “Gotcha,” Kirishima added, stretching out with a wince. “Didn’t realize how late it got.”

  Bakugo didn’t say anything, just grabbed his gear and stormed toward the exit without a backward glance. His shoulders looked tight. Still brooding from yesterday. Robinn slung her bag over one shoulder and followed at her usual pace, even and unhurried.

  The four of them made their way down the dim halls of U.A., the hum of overhead lights their only company for a moment. Bakugo split off first at the main atrium, muttering something that could’ve been “Later,” or just another grunt. Either way, he was gone.

  Kirishima lingered at the front gates, rubbing the back of his neck. “You guys are cool to walk alone?” “Yeah,” Midoriya said. “I’m good,” Robinn added.

  “Alright then. See you tomorrow!” Kirishima grinned, then jogged off down a side street.

  Robinn adjusted her strap, eyes on the road ahead. “Night,” she said, and without further word, broke into a steady run, light on her feet, posture tight, pace consistent.

  Midoriya watched her disappear down the road, shoes hitting pavement with a regular beat. Still training. Even on the way home. He stayed there, standing just inside the gates, lost in thought. The whole day had been... strange. Not bad. Just full. His brain kept replaying the way she’d moved, the way she’d known where to go, the way Bakugo had bristled.

  “Thinking too hard again, young Midoriya?” He jumped, nearly dropping his bag. Behind him, hunched in a long coat and scarf, stood a tall, gaunt man with sunken eyes and a familiar, lopsided smile. “All Might!” Midoriya whispered. “Er... I mean..! I didn’t hear you!”

  “I noticed.” All Might chuckled softly, his breath rasping a little in the night air. “You’re always deep in your head when the day ends.” Midoriya looked down, fidgeting with the zipper on his bag. “Just... going over stuff.”

  They stood there a second in comfortable silence, city sounds humming faintly in the background. “You showed strong instincts yesterday,” All Might said suddenly. “Quick thinking. You knew you couldn’t beat young Bakugo head-on, so you used his own desire to win the match.”

  Midoriya blinked. “I... I couldn’t control One for All. I couldn’t help out the way I wanted to.”

  “Yet you did help,” All Might said. “You took the hit, bought time, trusted your partner. That is helping. You were clever enough to aim for victory, not pride. That matters.”

  Midoriya didn’t know what to say to that. So he nodded. All Might looked off down the street. Just for a second. Midoriya didn’t catch it, too busy twisting the strap of his backpack, but the older man’s eyes followed the direction Robinn had run.

  “Some students carry a lot on their backs,” he said, quiet now. “Just make sure you don’t carry it all alone.” Midoriya glanced up, confused, but All Might was already turning away, one hand in his coat pocket.

  “Rest up,” he added, stepping into the shadowed sidewalk. “Tomorrow’s another day.” And then he was gone, blending into the city night like a ghost.

  Midoriya stood there a moment longer then finally slung his bag over his shoulder... and started walking home.