(Third Person POV – Class 1-A)
The classroom was quiet, the only sound being the occasional rustle of a page as Momo Yaoyorozu read her book by the window. Though her eyes were fixed on the text, her fingers fidgeted slightly against the cover, betraying her nerves. Every so often, she stole glances at the other two students in the room.
Fumikage Tokoyami sat with his arms folded, his eyes closed as if ditating, completely undisturbed by his surroundings. anwhile, Tsuyu Asui idly tapped her fingers against her desk, her wide eyes scanning the room with mild boredom.
The silence was disrupted by the soft click of the door sliding open.
A tall figure stepped inside.
Kata Okada.
He moved with quiet confidence, his red eyes sweeping across the room in quick assessnt. His ssy white hair and the faint scars on his hands and neck painted an imposing image, one that made Momo hesitate as she considered greeting him. A strange tension settled in her chest.
Tokoyami cracked one eye open, observing him briefly before deciding to return to his own thoughts. He knew better than to disturb soone who clearly preferred solitude.
Tsuyu, on the other hand, watched him intently. From the mont he entered until he took his seat, she didn’t look away. A low hum escaped her lips as if in thought.
The room, once again, fell into silence—only this ti, the air felt heavier.
(Kata’s POV)
'Damn it.'
I sighed internally, already regretting my decision to stay quiet. 'Had the perfect opportunity to introduce myself, but I freaked out and tried to play it cool. Now I just look like a douche.'
Well, no point dwelling on it now.
'Soone else will start talking soon. When they do, I’ll just introduce myself then. Patience is key.'
Taking a steady breath, I reached into my bag and pulled out a notebook—a compilation of ideas I’d put together for my Quirk’s future developnt.
'I’ll probably master the forcefield soon. The real challenge is making it strong enough to withstand serious attacks while keeping it passive enough that I can still fight. After that, I’ll work on controlling objects continuously instead of just launching them. Maybe even sensing things telekinetically…'
I was mid-thought when the door opened again.
My gaze lifted instinctively, and I saw a tall, sharply moving figure enter the room.
Tenya Iida.
“Hello, everyone!” he greeted, his tone formal yet enthusiastic. “My na is Tenya Iida! It is a pleasure to et you all!”
Finally, my chance to speak—
Before I could so much as take a breath, Momo shot up from her seat as if she had been waiting for this exact mont.
“Good morning! My na is Momo Yaoyorozu. It’s a pleasure to et you, as well as the rest of our classmates,” she said, offering a small bow.
With that, the delicate balance was broken.
Tsuyu followed, her voice calm and composed. “Hi, I’m Tsuyu Asui. Nice to et you.” A quiet ribbit followed her words.
Then Tokoyami, ever the enigma, simply said, “Tokoyami. A pleasure.”
'Alright, my turn,' I thought, as eyes turned to .
I inhaled, preparing to speak—
The door slamd open.
Two more students strode in, laughing and chatting as they entered.
I shut my mouth, my mont stolen.
'Damn it.'
Keeping my face neutral, I resigned myself to silence once again.
Mina Ashido and Denki Kamanari.
Mina wasted no ti making her presence known. With a bright grin, she threw up a hand in greeting. “Hey, everyone! I’m Mina Ashido! Nice to et you all!”
Right behind her, Denki followed, smirking confidently. “Denki Kaminari. How’s it going?”
A second round of introductions kicked off imdiately. I watched, waiting for the perfect mont to speak up. Just wait for a pause, then jump in. But before I could, the door slamd open.
A sharp voice cut through the chatter.
“Out of the way, you extras!”
A spiky-haired blond stord in, his very presence radiating hostility. Without hesitation, he dropped into a random seat and kicked his feet up onto the desk.
Iida reacted instantly, his movents rigid with indignation. “That is highly disrespectful! We must honor those who ca before us—”
The two imdiately fell into a heated argunt, Bakugo’s aggressive snarls clashing with Iida’s authoritative scolding. The room, once quiet, erupted into full conversation.
Mina gravitated toward Momo and Tsuyu, quickly roping them into a discussion filled with laughter and giggles.
Denki’s gaze landed on for a mont, but between my intimidating presence and the way I was pretending to be busy—desperately avoiding further embarrassnt—he chose Tokoyami instead. I heard him attempt to start a conversation, his usual playful tone present.
I exhaled slowly, barely audible.
'Missed my chance again.'
Even if I forced myself to join now, I wasn’t confident enough to just insert myself into a conversation.
'I could try to faking a persona like I do with everyone else, but… I didn’t feel like being fake with them. That mask would crack quickly anyway.'
Minutes passed. More students entered, their chatter filling the room as groups naturally ford. Eventually, Midoriya arrived, followed closely by Uraraka. The only ones who still seed outside the major discussions were Todoroki and Tokoyami.
'Not exactly how I hoped things would go, but I guess it’s not unexpected.'
I glanced around, observing the class dynamics, when movent near the door caught my eye.
A yellow caterpillar slid inside.
No… not a caterpillar. A sleeping bag.
I narrowed my eyes. 'Shota Aizawa.'
'Dangerous. He can shut down my Quirk. I'll need to find a way around that.'
ntally filing that away, I watched as he unzipped the sleeping bag, much to the confusion of Uraraka and Midoriya.
"If you're here to socialize, then get out," he said flatly, pulling out a juice box and taking a sip.
Silence fell over the class, all eyes on the disheveled man in the sleeping bag.
"This is the hero course," he continued, deadpan, finishing his juice. "It took you eight seconds to quiet down. Ti is a precious resource."
Murmurs spread throughout the class as Aizawa’s tired eyes swept over us.
"You lot aren’t very rational, are you?"
The murmuring grew louder as Aizawa introduced himself.
"I'm your horoom teacher, Shota Aizawa. Pleased to et you."
With a sigh, he packed away his sleeping bag and gestured toward the lockers.
"Change into your gym uniforms and et outside. We’re going to see what you're really made of."
Aizawa turned on his heel and walked away.
Minutes later, the entire class stood on the sports field, dressed in gym uniforms as Aizawa explained the purpose of this exercise.
Uraraka hesitantly raised a hand. “Uh… what about orientation?”
Aizawa barely spared her a glance. “If you want to make friends, do it on your own ti.” Without missing a beat, he turned his deadpan gaze on . “Okada. How far could you throw in middle school?”
The class’s attention snapped toward .
I blinked, montarily thrown off. Didn’t he ask Bakugo in the original tiline? Must be because I got first place in the entrance exam. A small part of felt pride, but it was quickly drowned out by the realization that this ant everyone just learned my last na. Great. Now I have no control over when I introduce myself.
Even worse, Bakugo was glaring daggers at , fists clenched. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why.
Sigh. How troubleso.
eting Aizawa’s stare with an even expression, I answered, “Ninety-five ters.”
There were murmurs from my classmates, so eyebrows raising in surprise. What? Is my voice weird? I’ve been told it sounds nice before.
Aizawa nodded. “Alright. Now use your Quirk. Do whatever you need—just don’t leave the circle. Give it everything you’ve got.”
Stepping into the designated throwing circle, I debated whether I should hold back. They’re benchmarking us, so if I go easy, Aizawa might see right through it. Better to go all out now. I’ll also test continuous application of force until the ball leaves my range.
Taking a stance, I gripped the ball tightly. My arm tensed as I pulled it back before swinging forward in a sharp motion.
The mont the ball left my fingertips, I activated my Quirk at full force, pushing it forward with my mind—accelerating it far beyond what should be physically possible.
A deafening BOOM shattered the air as the ball broke the sound barrier.
Then another.
And another.
By the ti the fourth sonic boom rang out, half the class had their hands over their ears, wincing at the force of the shockwaves. The ball rocketed into the sky, a blur against the clouds, and kept going until it vanished beyond the horizon.
Silence.
No one spoke. The only sound was the distant rustling of trees in the breeze.
Aizawa’s phone beeped and he raised a brow when the number appeared.
27,307 ters.
I swallowed. Didn’t think it’d go that far. Keeping my face neutral, I stepped out of the circle. The weight of my classmates’ stares pressed down on , so filled with awe, others with sothing closer to unease.
Kinda hope that ball didn’t hit anyone… but, well. Not my problem.
As I reached the group, Kirishima was the first to snap out of it.
“Whoa, man! That was insane! How’d you do that? You even made sonic booms!” His eyes practically sparkled with excitent.
“Yeah, that was sick,” Denki chid in, along with a few murmured agreents from the rest of the class. Even so of the quieter students gave approving nods.
Not everyone was impressed, though.
Bakugo’s jaw was clenched so tightly I thought his teeth might crack. His hands twitched at his sides, explosions faintly sparking from his palms. Across from him, Todoroki’s fingers curled ever so slightly.
Finally, a chance to talk to soone. I made a ntal note to thank Aizawa for forcing this mont—then imdiately realized I had no idea how to respond.
“…Thanks.”
It was short, but no one seed to mind.
Before the conversation could continue, Aizawa’s voice cut through the air.
“Aweso… you say?” His tone was sharp, edged with sothing unreadable.
The energy shifted instantly.
“You’re hoping to beco heroes after three years here, and you think it’s all fun and gas?” His eyes swept over us, his presence suddenly suffocating.
A heavy pause. Then—
“The one with the lowest score across all eight events…” He let the words hang in the air before delivering the final blow.
“…Will be expelled.”
Panic spread like wildfire.
I saw Midoriya tense, a bead of sweat rolling down his cheek. Others shifted uncomfortably, nervous whispers passing between them.
Aizawa pushed his hair back, his sharp gaze locking onto each of us.
“Your fates are in our hands.”
The class stilled under the weight of his words.
“Welco. This is…” He took a step forward, voice dropping.
“…The hero course at U.A. High.”
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