Thursday teachers announced the internship. Khan was already awaiting a few to trickle by when the knock came.
"Come in," he said.
Uraraka opened the door first. Toru slipped in behind her, hand hovering near.
Khan smiled as he got up. "Morning. You want a drink?"
Both shook their heads right away.
"Thank you," Toru said.
Khan stood anyway, grabbed two cups, and filled them with water. He set them on the edge of the desk and slid them forward.
They took the cups. Uraraka wrapped both hands around hers.
"So," Khan said, settling back down. "What's going on?"
Uraraka glanced at Toru. Toru nodded at her which couldn't be seen if not for her hairclip.
"We wanted to ask if you could give us some ideas about internships," Uraraka said. "We haven't gotten much. And we can't really choose."
"That's a good problem," Khan replied. "Means somebody noticed you."
Toru huffed. "Barely."
Uraraka smiled, then frowned again. "I got an offer from Gunhead Martial Arts."
Khan nodded, waiting for her to continue.
She kept going. "I think it makes sense. I'm bad in fights. I freeze up. I panic. Gunhead's all close combat and discipline and reacting fast. I don't want to be useless again."
Her fingers twisted together. She didn't look at Toru this time.
Toru cleared her throat. "I got... patrol offers." She paused. "Night shifts. Mostly."
Khan leaned back. "Alright."
She shifted in her chair. "My Quirk works when I'm naked. I mean. You know that. But nights are cold. And patrols can last hours. I don't want to pass out because I'm freezing and end up a headline."
Uraraka nodded hard. "Yeah. We don't want to pick something dumb."
Khan hummed, nodding, fingers steepled on the desk.
"Okay," he said. "Let's slow this down before you two lock yourselves into a choice that feels productive and ends up being cosmetic."
Uraraka stiffened a little at that. Toru tilted her head, waiting.
Khan leaned back in his chair and crossed one ankle over the other.
"Internships aren't about fixing your weakest trait in two weeks," he said. "They're about aligning with where you want to be in two years. Provisional license. Agency placement. Public expectations. All that boring stuff that decides who survives this career."
Uraraka frowned. "But I can't fight. I froze at USJ."
"You froze," Khan replied. "In a surprise mass casualty scenario with no license, no field time, and a dozen people screaming. That's not a diagnosis."
She opened her mouth, then closed it.
He continued, "Gunhead teaches solid fundamentals. Discipline. Grappling. Center of mass control. That's all real. But here's the part nobody tells you."
He tapped the desk.
"Two weeks of martial arts does not turn you into a close combat specialist. Best case, you learn how to throw a low-level thug who doesn't know what he's doing. Worst case, you hesitate because you're trying to remember a move while someone with a knife doesn't care."
Uraraka's shoulders dropped a notch.
"I just don't want to be useless again," she said.
Khan shook his head. "You're not useless. Your Quirk is battlefield control. You remove gravity. That changes terrain, momentum, evacuation flow. You decide who moves and who doesn't. That's not a brawler's role."
She looked down at her hands.
"If you want to commit to fighting," Khan went on, "that's a long-term decision. Conditioning. Repetition. Months, not weeks. Gunhead won't hurt you, but he also won't rewrite your role in fourteen days."
He let that sit.
"So what do I do?" Uraraka asked quietly.
"You ask what problem you want to solve," Khan said. "Not what skill looks impressive on paper."
She looked up.
"If your problem is panic," he said, "you don't fix that with throws. You fix it with exposure and structure. Controlled environments. Clear objectives. Teams that use your Quirk as the centerpiece instead of an afterthought."
He paused, then added, "And you already did better at the festival. You didn't freeze."
Uraraka nodded. "I didn't."
Khan turned his attention to Toru.
"Alright," he said. "Your turn."
Toru straightened, fingers tightening around her cup.
"Night patrols," Khan said. "Cold. Long hours. Limited visibility. You're worried about passing out or worse."
She nodded. "Yeah. If something happens and nobody sees me..."
She trailed off.
Khan nodded. "That's a fair fear."
He didn't soften it.
"Here's the reality," he said. "Discomfort is part of this job. You will be cold. You will be wet. You will be stuck somewhere longer than you want. Training teaches you how to manage that."
Toru swallowed.
"But," Khan continued, "there's a difference between uncomfortable and unsafe."
She looked at him, hopeful and wary at the same time.
"If you pass out from exposure," he said, "that's not a learning experience. That's an incident. And invisibility cuts both ways. People won't see you fall. They won't find you fast."
Uraraka shifted in her seat.
"So I shouldn't do it?" Toru asked.
"I didn't say that," Khan replied. "I said you need conditions."
He leaned forward slightly.
"If you take night patrols," he said, "you do it with proper gear, time limits, and supervision that understands your Quirk. You don't prove toughness by freezing quietly."
Toru nodded.
"And," Khan added, "you also need to get used to being uncomfortable on your terms. Because villains won't ask what temperature you prefer."
She gave a small, nervous laugh.
"Fair."
Khan smiled. "This job is unfair by design."
He folded his hands again.
"Both of you are thinking short-term," he said. "Fix this flaw. Patch that weakness. That's normal. It's also how people burn out."
Uraraka glanced at Toru, then back.
"What should we be thinking about?" Uraraka asked.
"Stages," Khan replied. "Not moments."
They waited.
"Being a hero means public accountability," he said. "Once you have it, every move you make has a paper trail. Agencies look at consistency. Reliability. How often you become a problem they have to explain."
He pointed gently at Uraraka.
"You want placements that teach you how to deploy your Quirk under stress without eating a punch first," he said. "Evac units. Disaster response. Support-heavy teams."
Then to Toru.
"You want agencies that understand stealth isn't about being unseen," he said. "It's about coordination. Signals. Backup plans. Gear that compensates for biology."
Toru nodded slowly.
"So not just... tough it out," she said.
"No," Khan said. "Smart it out."
They sat for a moment. The tension eased.
"I'm not telling either of you what to pick," Khan said. "That's not my job. My job is to make sure you don't confuse motion with direction."
Uraraka took a sip of water. "Gunhead still feels safe."
"Safe isn't bad," Khan said. "Safe just shouldn't be the only reason."
She nodded.
"And Miss Hagakure," he added, "if you take night patrols, talk to the agency. Ask about rotations. Ask about thermal gear. If they wave you off, that's your answer."
Toru's mouth tightened. "Okay."
Khan stood, signaling the conversation winding down.
"Whatever you choose," he said, "commit to it for the right reason. Not trying to prove something to yesterday."
Uraraka stood too. "Thank you."
"Yeah," Toru added. "This helped."
Khan smiled. "That's what the office is for."
They moved toward the door. Uraraka paused, hand on the handle.
"Khan-sensei?"
"Yeah."
"If we change our minds later," she said, "that's not... failing, right?"
He shook his head. "That's adapting. Heroes who never change plans don't last."
She smiled, relieved, and opened the door.
They left together, voices low as they headed down the hall.
**-**
This novel is completed. I'm currently editing the chapters and uploading them to Patreon. If you'd like to read the full novel and support my work, feel free to check it out. Available up to Chapter 68 so far.
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