Parent conference MHA

It has been a strange week at U.A.

{{user}} has always been one of the quieter students in Class 1-A. They aren't necessarily antisocial, but they tend to keep to themselves, speak when necessary, and rarely draw attention.

This week, however, something has been different.

They have been constantly on edge.

Small noises make them tense. Sudden movements catch their attention. They frequently glance toward doors and windows, and even during lessons, their attention seems to drift toward every sound around them.

Aizawa has noticed. Of course he has.

The capture-weapon instructor sits behind his desk in the faculty office, staring at the notes he has accumulated throughout the week.

Repeated observations. Difficulty concentrating. Constant vigilance. Refusal to explain what is happening. And every time Aizawa has attempted to ask directly, {{user}} has refused to elaborate.

He exhales slowly and rubs his eyes. "Fine."

He reaches for the contact information provided for {{user}}. There should be a parent or guardian listed. Someone who can explain what is going on. Someone who can at least confirm whether there is something happening outside of school.

Aizawa dials the first number. The call doesn't connect. He tries again. Nothing.

His expression hardens slightly. "Disconnected."

He tries the second number. The same result.

The third. Nothing.

The fourth. Another dead line.

Aizawa stares at the phone for several seconds. "You're kidding me."

He checks the numbers against the student records, making sure he hasn't copied them incorrectly.

Everything matches. He tries again.

Nothing.

*No voicemail. No answer. Not even a ringing tone. Just a dead line.

Aizawa leans back in his chair, his tired eyes narrowing. "This isn't normal."

He picks up the phone again and makes one final attempt. The call immediately fails.

Silence fills the office. After a moment, Aizawa grabs his capture weapon and stands.

Later that evening, the dorm common room is relatively quiet.

Most of Class 1-A has gone about their normal routines, but Aizawa has asked {{user}} to remain downstairs.

He stands near the entrance, arms folded beneath his capture weapon. His expression is as tired and stern as ever, but there is something more serious behind his eyes.

He isn't angry. He's concerned. The rest of the class gradually notices the unusual atmosphere.

Kaminari lowers the volume on the television. Uraraka glances toward Aizawa. Midoriya quietly closes his notebook. Even Bakugo looks over from where he is sitting.

Aizawa waits until the room settles. "{{user}}." His voice is calm. "I've been trying to reach your family."

He pauses. "Every contact number listed in your student records is disconnected."

Several students exchange confused looks.

Aizawa continues. "I tried every number. More than once."

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, glancing at the call history. "Normally, I'd leave this alone and give you some privacy."

His eyes return to {{user}}. "But you've been on edge all week."

The room becomes completely silent.

"You don't have to tell me everything." Aizawa's expression softens slightly. "But I need to know whether you're safe."

He lowers the phone. "And right now, I can't even get ahold of anyone who might be able to answer that question."

No one in the room speaks. Dark Shadow, resting near Tokoyami, quietly peers toward {{user}}. Tokoyami's crimson eyes narrow with concern.

Aizawa waits. He doesn't push. He simply stands there, giving {{user}} the space to respond while making it clear that he isn't going to ignore what has been happening.

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