POV: Himari Sato
The tea was good.
Not in the refined, imported-leaf sense—just good because it was warm, shared, and paired with the gentle company of Inko Midoriya. She had an easy way of making a conversation feel less like a meeting and more like two friends catching up after years apart.
I wasn't here to make friends.
But... I didn't exactly mind it, either.
Her laugh was warm. Soft. The kind of laugh that carried a brightness you didn't hear much anymore.
I found myself smiling before I even realized it.
My gaze caught on a small photo frame on the side table—a boy, maybe three years old, with fluffy green curls, wide emerald eyes, and a freckled smile that could melt steel.
"He was adorable when he was a toddler," I said without thinking.
Inko glanced over and let out a fond laugh. "He still is. I swear, it feels like yesterday I was holding my little baby. Now look at him—growing so fast." She sighed, the sound filled with the weight of love and time. "They really do grow up before you know it."
I hummed softly, pretending to sip my tea while studying her expression. There was no doubt in my mind that this was a good household. Warm. Nurturing. It told me something about the student I'd been teaching these last months.
Now I had a better picture—not just of the mind I'd seen in our assignments, but the environment that had shaped it.
"I think I'm ready to meet him," I said, setting my cup down with care. "Now that I have an idea of what kind of encouragement and upbringing your son has had, I'd like to see him in person."
Inko tilted her head slightly. "Oh? Well, of course." She leaned back with a smile. "His name is Izuku Midoriya."
The name clicked in my mind, fitting neatly into the alias I'd been addressing for months—Midori27. A real name, at last.
But then Inko's lips curved into a playful grin. "Though I have to admit, I should probably feel a little used... I've really been enjoying our conversation."
I blinked, caught slightly off guard. "I—"
"And now you're just asking to meet my son when we were having such a nice time," she continued, feigning offense as she puffed out her cheeks in a pout and turned her head slightly away.
It was... devastatingly cute.
Way too cute.
Heat rushed to my face before I could stop it, and I had to glance at my tea to get my composure back.
"You really shouldn't be that cute," I muttered before my filter caught up. My cheeks warmed further when her eyes flicked back to me in surprise.
She chuckled, shaking her head. "Alright, alright, I'll stop playing around." She set her cup aside and rose gracefully from her seat. "Let's not keep you waiting. I'll go call him."
I straightened in my chair, a spark of anticipation threading through me. Finally, I would meet the prodigy who'd been sending me assignment after assignment with answers sharper than most university students could manage.
Inko turned toward the hallway and called out warmly, "Izuku! Come here, sweetheart! Someone's here to meet you!"
The apartment was quiet for a moment.
Then the soft click of a closing door down the hall was followed by measured, steady footsteps.
I kept my posture relaxed, but my focus sharpened. Finally, I was about to meet the student I'd been teaching for months — the one whose work had kept me up late, rereading and analyzing like a puzzle I couldn't put down.
The footsteps drew closer.
And then he appeared.
I blinked.
A boy.
Small, green-haired, freckled cheeks, and eyes as bright as polished emeralds.
Not a teenager. Not even close.
Still... this was the reality of this world of ours. I'd seen quirks warp growth patterns before. Maybe his was physical and stunted his height? Maybe he was just short because of a mutation quirk?
Anything was possible.
He walked with the composure of someone twice — no, three times — his size. Long sleeves hid his arms, and his pace was calm, respectful.
He reached the chair across from me and sat without hesitation. Inko waited until he was settled before taking her own seat beside him.
When he spoke, his voice was clear and polite.
"It's a pleasure to finally meet my instructor in person. My name is Izuku Midoriya, and I'm four years old."
My brain short-circuited.
"What?!" The word ripped out of me before I could stop it. "You're four?!"
He didn't flinch at my volume. Instead, he laughed.
Not a nervous laugh, not a smug laugh — an honest, innocent, light sound that hit me like a bullet straight to the chest.
Oh no.
That's weaponized cuteness. I'm going to die of diabetes before this meeting is over.
He turned to his mother, still smiling. "See, Mom? I told you she'd be shocked when she found out."
Inko laughed, the warmth in her voice matching the brightness in her eyes. Her son's laughter joined hers, the sound spilling into the air like sunlight.
And before I could stop myself, I said aloud, "I'm going to die young from a cuteness-induced heart attack."
Two sets of green eyes turned to me.
Then they both burst into laughter again — louder this time.
Heat crept into my cheeks as I realized I'd just said that out loud. I coughed into my hand, trying to play it off. "Ahem. Well... that's... good to know."
They were still chuckling when I forced myself back into professional mode. "So, Izuku... how much have you been enjoying your online schooling?"
He was still smiling — still a little giggle at the edges — as he answered. "It's been great. I've really enjoyed it so far." His tone turned more thoughtful. "But I'm hoping I can finish my high school classes by the time I'm five and a half, so I'll have more time for myself and my projects."
I blinked again. Five and a half? He was treating this like a tight academic schedule, not playtime.
"And," he added, with a sincerity that caught me off guard, "your class has been the best one."
Something about the way he said it — not as flattery, but as a statement of fact — made me straighten slightly in my chair.
This was no ordinary child.
And yet... he was still very much a child, sitting there smiling at me like my shock had been the highlight of his day.
I found myself wondering — not for the first time — how much of what I saw in his assignments was natural talent, and how much was earned.
And I was about to find out.