"Come in."
Door creaked. Light footsteps trying not to limp. She failed.
Khan glanced up and found Ochako Uraraka standing in the doorway. She didn't step in right away. That sheepish smile didn't reach her eyes. There were curry rice on her cheek. Probably rushed through the lunch to come to him.
"I, uh… I finished lunch early," she said, standing awkwardly. "Thought I'd stop by. If… y'know. You weren't busy."
He gestured to the chair across from him with two fingers.
"Sit."
She obeyed instantly. She sat too stiff in the seat, legs together, eyes flicking everywhere but him.
"So," Khan said, leaning back. "Difficult day?"
Uraraka winced. "I… yeah."
Her leg wasn't healed. Should've been by now. Recovery Girl patched her up right after the exam, but healing quirks weren't magic. Not if you didn't have the nutrition to back it up. And judging by how she winced just sitting down, her body was chewing on fumes and painkillers, not calories.
Uraraka looked everywhere but at him.
"I... uh. I think Aizawa-sensei hates me."
He smiled warmly. "You sure it's not his face?"
"No, he said I was bottom rank. That I barely scraped in. Then he said he was lying about expelling, just to see who'd crack under pressure." She paused. "But I was bottom."
Khan leaned back and gave a nod.
"How's your leg?" he asked.
Uraraka hesitated. Then shrugged. "Still hurts."
"Where?"
She tapped just above her ankle. The same one that bent sideways during the exam and tried to pretend it was fine while her eyes were drowning in pain.
"You want me to take a look?"
She paused.
"I guess," she mumbled.
Khan stood and came around the desk, rolling his sleeves up. "Alright. Pull the sock down."
She bent forward, tugged it down halfway, then hissed when the fabric dragged over the bruised skin. Her leg was puffy around the joint.
Khan crouched. His fingers brushed just above the ankle, then started kneading into the muscle, not gentle, but not rough either. She flinched, sucked in a breath through her teeth.
"Yeah. You're tight."
"I've been walking," she said as if that's an excuse.
"You shouldn't be."
"I live far from here. Can't take the train all the time."
He dug a thumb into the tendon. She jolted.
"You're eating right?"
She didn't answer.
Khan glanced up.
Her face dropped.
"Uraraka."
"I eat," she said fast. Too fast. "Just not, just sometimes, I skip meals. It's not a big deal."
He raised an eyebrow.
"I mean, school's got good food, so I'll be fine now. I just... don't always have enough at home."
"That why your body's not healing right?"
She went quiet.
Khan stood up, wiped his hands on a napkin from the desk.
"You know you can't build muscle on an empty stomach, right?"
"I'm not trying to build muscle," she muttered.
"You are now," he said. "You're a hero student. That means running, fighting, lifting, jumping, falling, bleeding, patching, repeating. Your body's gonna be your gear. Starve it and you're walking into combat with a cardboard shield."
Her hands clenched in her lap. She didn't argue.
Khan leaned against the desk, arms folded.
"I can help," he said.
She blinked. "Huh?"
"Meal credits. Side budget. Admin privilege. Most students don't ask, so it piles up. I'll push the paperwork. You get access to the lunchroom's top-tier food and a weekly grocery box."
Uraraka stared.
Her throat worked around the idea like it was too heavy to swallow. Her eyes shined, but she didn't cry.
"Why?" she whispered.
Khan shrugged. "I don't like seeing promising students limp through week one because of bureaucratic starvation."
That part was true. Just not for the reason she thought.
"I'm not asking for anything," he added. "Just show up, eat, pass your classes, and stop limping through my doorway."
She blinked fast, swallowed again. "I... yeah. I will."
He nodded. "Good. I'll put the forms through tonight. You'll be on the list by tomorrow."
Hher mouth opened. "Khan-sensei?"
"Yeah?"
Her lip wobbled just a bit. "Thank you."
He moved back behind the desk, grabbed a form off the tray.
"Go. Rest your leg. You'll get a notification when the account activates."
She stood. Still hesitant. But something in her shoulders relaxed.
"Thanks," she said, voice barely above a whisper.
Khan didn't answer.
She left.
Door clicked shut behind her.
The System pinged.
[Dependency - Uraraka Ochako
Trust Threshold: 43%
Estimated Leverage Window: 1-2 Days
Emotional Hook: Survival Guilt / Debt Gratitude Hybrid]
Khan poured himself a cup of coffee.
The girl was hooked.
She wouldn't even feel it. She'd just think he was kind. The one staff member who gave a shit.
The meal plan would start tomorrow.
**
Khan opened the class directory and smiled.
Midoriya Izuku. General Ed. Class 1-C. All Might might've scraped together a half-assed mercy slot for his little charity case, but the golden boy wasn't getting a Hero Course vest anytime soon.
Didn't matter that the kid still made it through the door. Canon was already bleeding from the neck, and he hadn't even started carving deep yet. Recovery Girl could patch bones. She couldn't fix a timeline with missing vertebrae.
Midoriya wouldn't stay there, though. Eventually, they'd "discover" his potential, rally around the miracle kid, and find a loophole to pull him into 1-A like it was destiny. He would still flail around in Gen Ed for a semester or two, though. Maybe try to transfer in after the Sports Festival. Maybe cry in a bathroom and punch a wall. Khan didn't give a shit. Let the boy suffer quietly while the Hero Course steamed ahead without him.
His initial goal wasn't even the boy...
Inko.
Sweet, overworked, dough-built Inko Midoriya. That woman used to be something, tight curves and soft eyes. Then her Quirkless wet blanket of a son dragged her into a decade of guilt eating and stress weight.
Now she looked like a well-meaning marshmallow with a mom cut and zero stamina.
But that was fixable.
Khan tapped a pen against the desk, already picturing it. Weight loss framed as self-care. Diet dressed up as "showing him you're proud." Gym membership slipped in as a gift. Meal plans. Caloric guilt. A mirror. The right words.
And once she started seeing progress he'd be the one she thanked.
The leash was coming. Just needed the setup. Maybe some crying over Midoriya's Gen Ed placement. A little too much wine. One "You're the only one who understands" away from calling him late at night.
Khan grinned.
Then there was Mitsuki Bakugo.
Whole different flavor.
Tighter body. Louder mouth. Married. Still hot. The kind of woman who said "fuck off" before you even asked for her number, then called you a coward when you actually did.
Khan grinned.
Harder target. Dirtier reward. That marriage was already cracked. Bakugo's dad had the spine of a collapsed umbrella and the testosterone levels of a sponge. She wanted a real man to scream at, one that'd scream back while rearranging her uterus. He needed her angry enough to say something stupid in public.
Then he'd swoop in with "calm down, let's talk," and that was the start of every good mistake.
Yeah, Mitsuki was gonna be fun.
He shut the laptop and stood, slinging his bag over one shoulder. He made it to the door, opened it and stopped face-to-face with Midnight.