The U.A. staff room was unusually animated.
Not loud enough to be chaotic—but far from quiet. Papers rustled, coffee steamed, and a low hum of conversation filled the air like background noise before a broadcast.
Ren stood just outside the doorway.
He didn't enter immediately.
This wasn't hesitation—it was habit. He listened first.
"…I'm telling you," Present Mic was saying, voice already halfway to shouting, "first place, clean wins, barely any damage taken—he could've picked anyone."
Midnight chuckled. "Most of them probably begged."
"Agencies always beg," Mic replied. "Especially after the Sports Festival."
All Might, seated near the table in his thin form, smiled gently. "Still, choosing wisely matters more than choosing big."
"That depends on the student," Midnight said. "Some want fame. Some want polish."
"And some," Aizawa said flatly, eyes half-lidded as usual, "want to hide their weaknesses."
Ren stepped inside.
The door clicked softly behind him.
Aizawa's eyes shifted instantly. "You can come in, Ren."
Every conversation stopped.
Ren walked forward calmly, stopping a respectful distance from the table.
"Sorry for interrupting," he said.
"You didn't," Aizawa replied. "We were already discussing internships."
Ren nodded. "That's why I'm here."
Mic grinned. "LET ME GUESS—YOU'RE HERE TO TELL US WHICH TOP-TIER AGENCY YOU PICKED!"
Ren shook his head once.
"I didn't pick one."
That wiped the grin right off Mic's face.
"…Huh?"
Midnight raised an eyebrow. "You didn't accept any offers?"
"No," Ren said simply.
All Might leaned forward slightly. "May I ask why?"
Ren exhaled—not tired, not nervous—just thoughtful.
"Because agencies don't solve my biggest problem."
The room stilled.
Aizawa watched him closely now.
"And what problem is that?" Aizawa asked.
Ren didn't dodge the question.
"I'm weak in close-quarter combat."
The words landed cleanly.
No excuses. No softening.
Midnight blinked. "Weak…?"
Mic frowned. "Kid, you won."
Ren nodded. "Because I controlled the field. Because I avoided prolonged contact. Because I reacted."
Aizawa's eyes narrowed slightly.
Ren continued.
"I don't fight up close," he said. "I respond. I adapt."
All Might's expression shifted—more serious now.
"That isn't sustainable," All Might said quietly.
"No," Ren agreed. "It isn't."
Mic crossed his arms. "But agencies could train you—"
"They're busy," Ren interrupted, not rudely, just factually.
The room went silent again.
Ren looked around at them—all of them.
"Agencies manage schedules. Patrols. Media. Emergencies. Interns get fragments of attention," he said. "Especially someone like me."
Midnight tilted her head. "Because you're difficult to place?"
"Because close-quarter combat can't be learned in a week," Ren replied. "And it can't be paused when I leave."
Aizawa leaned back slightly.
Ren's gaze returned to him.
"I need consistent correction," Ren said. "Someone who can stop me mid-mistake. Someone who sees me every day. Someone I can ask after class why I failed."
The implication was clear now.
"All Might folded his hands together. "So you chose to stay within the school."
"Yes."
Mic slowly nodded. "Okay… okay, that actually makes sense."
Midnight smiled faintly. "You're thinking long-term."
Ren finally spoke the conclusion aloud.
"That's why I want to intern under a U.A. teacher."
The room buzzed again—this time sharper.
"And," Ren said, turning fully to Aizawa, "why I want to intern under you."
Aizawa didn't respond immediately.
"…You realize," Aizawa said slowly, "I don't specialize in flashy close combat."
"That's exactly why," Ren replied.
Aizawa's eyes sharpened.
"You don't rely on instincts," Ren continued. "You rely on positioning. Timing. Ending fights fast."
Mic snapped his fingers. "OH—THAT'S GOOD."
"All Might nodded thoughtfully. "Shouta teaches efficiency."
Aizawa stared at Ren.
"You think I can fix that weakness?" Aizawa asked.
"I think you'll force me to confront it," Ren said. "Even when I don't want to."
Aizawa closed his eyes and exhaled.
"…Tch."
Midnight laughed softly. "He read you like a manual."
Mic leaned forward. "SO? WHAT'S THE VERDICT, ERASERHEAD?"
Aizawa opened his eyes again.
"You'll get no special treatment," he said. "No hero worship. No mercy."
Ren bowed his head slightly. "Good."
"You'll be thrown into situations where you can't retreat," Aizawa continued. "Where reacting isn't enough."
Ren straightened. "That's exactly where I fail."
Silence.
Then—
"Fine," Aizawa said.
Ren's shoulders relaxed—just a fraction.
"I'll take you as an intern," Aizawa added. "But understand this—"
He stood.
"—I'm not fixing you," Aizawa said. "I'm breaking your bad habits and letting you rebuild."
Ren met his gaze, eyes steady.
"That's all I need."
Mic threw his hands up. "THIS IS GONNA BE BRUTAL!"
Midnight smirked. "And educational."
All Might smiled proudly. "A wise decision, Ren."
Ren bowed deeply.
"Thank you, Aizawa-sensei."
Then he left