Enough

Y/N meandered through the racks of clothing, her fingers brushing over the fabric as she pulled out shirts, skirts, and dresses to inspect. She was careful with each choice, holding them up against her frame to gauge the fit before deciding whether to hang them back or drape them over her arm. The soft hum of music echoed through the store, blending with the faint chatter of other shoppers as they searched for deals or admired the latest fashion. It was a stark contrast to the tumult in her mind, which felt like an endless tug-of-war between what she needed and what she was afraid to face.

She knew she couldn’t keep relying on Hawks’ old clothes forever. The oversized shirts, the loose jackets, the skirts she had claimed from his apartment—they’d been a comfort, a shield of sorts, when she’d had no other options. But the reality was clear: she needed a wardrobe of her own. One that reflected the person she was now, the person she was trying to become. Not just someone who hid behind the remnants of her past, but someone who could stand tall and face her future, whatever that might look like.

As she wandered deeper into the store, Y/N found herself in front of a full-length mirror. She had an armful of clothing in front of her, each piece representing a step toward rebuilding the life she had lost. The fabric felt unfamiliar in her hands, but she was determined to make it hers. She paused, holding the clothes for a moment, and looked at her reflection.

She was still wearing the oversized shirt that had once belonged to Hawks, the fabric loose around her torso and hanging off her shoulders in a way that almost swallowed her. She had paired it with a skirt she’d salvaged from her brother’s home. It was practical but also a reminder of what she had lost—the ties to a family that was no longer the same, to a life that had been shattered by her past choices. The skirt clung to her like a stubborn memory, the threads woven with both nostalgia and regret. She sighed heavily, trying to push the thoughts out of her mind.

As she adjusted the shirt, something caught her eye in the mirror. Her breath hitched, her heart skipping a beat as she focused on what was happening in front of her. The reflection staring back at her wasn’t the one she recognized. Her left eye—her left eye had changed. It burned with an unnatural intensity. The iris had turned an unearthly, vivid red, glowing like a beacon against the surrounding black sclera. Crimson veins spread outward, twisting and curling beneath her skin like cracks in a fragile surface, an unmistakable sign of her kakugan.

Her pulse quickened, her body frozen in shock as panic gripped her chest. The hunger, the overwhelming sensation of bloodlust, surged up inside her, clawing at the back of her throat. Her breathing became erratic, the familiar dark pull threatening to break free. No, she thought desperately, Not now. Not here.

She could feel the weight of the panic rising in her chest, her heartbeat hammering in her ears as she struggled to stay composed. She wasn’t ready to face this. Not in public, not when she was just trying to move forward. She closed her eyes, leaning back against the mirror for support, and focused on calming herself. She needed to regain control.

Slowly, she counted under her breath—one, two, three—each number helping her focus on the steady rhythm of her pulse, the rise and fall of her chest. She took slow, deliberate breaths, pushing the panic back down, forcing herself to center her thoughts. When she opened her eyes again, the kakugan was gone. Her normal eye stared back at her in the mirror, calm and steady, like nothing had happened.

A deep breath escaped her lips as her shoulders sagged in relief. The tension in her body remained, but at least she had managed to suppress it—for now. I thought I had this under control, she thought bitterly, her jaw clenching. She had fooled herself into believing that the danger had passed, that she could maintain a semblance of normalcy. But looking at her reflection, she realized just how fragile that control really was.

Her mind wandered, and the sight of her kakugan only reminded her of everything she had fought so hard to suppress—the constant hunger, the burning desire to feed, the instincts that surged up inside her when she was least expecting it. The emotions she thought she could ignore were always just beneath the surface, ready to claw their way out the moment she let her guard down.

It was a constant battle—keeping those urges in check, holding onto what little humanity she had left. She had come so far, but sometimes, in moments like this, it felt like the darkness was right on the edge of consuming her. Was I ever really in control at all?

She stared at her reflection for a few moments longer, her eyes searching for answers that were never going to come. Her reflection was a stranger, an image that didn’t quite match the person she wanted to be.

Reluctantly, she stepped back from the mirror, a tired sigh escaping her lips. She ran a hand through her hair, the familiar gesture offering little comfort. She’d been hiding her kakugan for so long, wearing eye patches to cover the mark that defined her in ways she couldn’t ignore. She hated it. Hated how it made her stand out, how it drew unwanted attention and forced people to ask questions she wasn’t ready to answer.

But she had no choice. If she wanted to keep her secret safe, if she wanted to maintain control over her life, then wearing an eye patch was the only way. It wasn’t just a fashion statement. It was a mask, a way to protect herself from the world that was too eager to uncover her darkness.

She ran her fingers through her hair again, glancing at the clothes still draped over her arm. I’ll buy one before the day is out, she promised herself. A simple thing, really. An eye patch. A small price to pay for safety.

She shook off the lingering unease in her chest, willing herself to move forward. There were other things to focus on—other, more mundane concerns. Like rebuilding her wardrobe. The clothes in her hands weren’t just about fashion; they were about finding pieces of herself again, reclaiming her identity, and moving forward with purpose.

Her reflection might have betrayed her, but she wouldn’t let it control her. She wouldn’t let the kakugan define her. She wouldn’t let the past have any more power over her.

With a deep breath, Y/N turned away from the mirror and headed toward the dressing room, her mind already shifting gears. She would face what lay ahead. She would rebuild. She would keep her secret safe—and keep moving forward, no matter what.

Y/N sat on her couch, the envelope resting in her hands as if it were some kind of ticking time bomb. It had arrived earlier that afternoon, just after she’d returned home from a grueling day of classes. The crisp, white paper was completely unmarked, save for the elegant script that spelled out her name in a flourish she would have admired under different circumstances. But right now, all she could focus on was the weight of it—both literal and metaphorical.

She twisted the envelope in her hands, her fingers nervously tracing the edges. There was something unnerving about this envelope. Maybe it was because she hadn’t been expecting anything—certainly not a letter from UA Business School, where she’d applied months ago without much hope. She had poured every ounce of herself into her application, but she'd never expected to hear back from them so quickly. It felt like it had to be some kind of mistake.

But the elegance of the writing didn’t lie. She could feel her pulse quicken as her mind ran through possible outcomes. Was this the acceptance letter she had been hoping for, or had they sent the wrong correspondence to the wrong person?

Her breath hitched as she considered the possibilities. She twisted the envelope open with more urgency than she intended, the paper crinkling beneath her fingers. A small, silver disc fell out and landed on her lap with a soft clink. She blinked at it, the strange shape doing nothing to reassure her.

Just as she was about to pick it up, the disc suddenly began to whir to life. A light bloomed from the center, and Y/N blinked rapidly as a hologram of Principal Nezu flickered into existence before her. He beamed at her with that eternally chipper expression, looking impossibly more animated than he ever had in person. The light from the hologram made the dim apartment seem even quieter, but Nezu’s voice quickly filled the empty space.

"Congratulations, Miss L/N!" he said with such enthusiasm that it almost startled her. “I am pleased to inform you that you’ve been accepted into the UA Business School!”

Y/N blinked, the words sinking in slowly. Her heart skipped a beat. Wait. What? Her mind raced as she tried to process the information, but it wasn’t quite hitting her in the way she’d expected. She sat there, her lips slightly parted, before exhaling a shaky breath.

“Finally,” she muttered under her breath, sinking back into the cushions, a wave of relief washing over her. She had done it. This was the moment she had been waiting for. The acceptance letter. The confirmation. She’d done it.

But before she could let herself enjoy the victory, Nezu continued speaking, and that’s when the situation went from confusing to downright surreal.

"In addition to your acceptance, I’m thrilled to share that you’ve been selected for our brand-new dual hero certification and business degree program!" Nezu announced, his voice practically bubbling with excitement.

Y/N froze. The words didn’t make sense at first. Her mind ground to a halt as she tried to wrap her head around what she had just heard. Dual hero certification? Business degree program? It felt like the pieces didn’t fit together, as if Nezu was speaking a completely different language. Hero certification? She wasn’t even a hero. And she was certainly no athlete, no fighter. She was just a regular student with aspirations of someday working in the business world. Nothing had ever suggested to her that she'd be expected to train as a hero, especially not in combination with a business degree. This didn’t make any sense.

She sat there, her mouth slightly agape, staring at the hologram in disbelief. Nezu was still smiling brightly, utterly unfazed by the fact that he had just dropped a bombshell on her.

"You’ll be our guinea pig for the year, testing this exciting new curriculum that blends hero training with advanced business studies,” he continued, sounding more and more like he was speaking about the next big thing since sliced bread. “It’s a first for UA, and I’m confident you’ll excel.” His smile only widened as he spoke, his tone increasing in excitement. “Oh, and you can thank Hawks for your recommendation letter. It was quite persuasive!”

Hawks. Of course. Y/N’s eyes narrowed at the mention of his name. The smug, always-optimistic hero had found some way to get involved in her future again. She hadn’t even known Hawks had written a recommendation letter for her. The last thing she remembered was trying to navigate the usual bureaucratic chaos and get her application in on time, only to find out later that she’d received a letter of recommendation from a top pro hero who practically owned UA. How had she not known about that?

She stared at the empty space where Nezu had just been, the room now eerily silent as the hologram shut off. The air felt thick, and Y/N couldn’t bring herself to look down at the letter still clenched in her hands.

“What the fuck?” she said, her voice flat. The words had come out before she could stop herself, a reflexive response to the chaos that had just invaded her life. Her heart was still pounding in her chest, and her mind struggled to catch up with the reality of what she had just heard.

She shot up from the couch, her legs carrying her across the room without thought as she began to pace back and forth. “This has to be a joke,” she muttered, her hand running through her hair in frustration. The more she thought about it, the more absurd it seemed. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be. But the letter in her hands, the disc that had projected Nezu’s hologram, the fact that she had been accepted—all of it was real. And the whole dual certification and hero training? That was real, too.

Her mind began to spin, and she could almost hear Hawks’ voice in her head, smug and self-assured as he likely thought she would be thrilled with the news. He’d probably convinced himself this was the perfect opportunity for her. He’d probably said something along the lines of “You can handle anything, Y/N. It’ll be great for your career.”

She groaned, flopping back onto the couch with a heavy sigh. “What the hell have I gotten myself into?” She stared at the ceiling for a long moment, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on her. This wasn’t what she had signed up for. She hadn’t asked for this. But now she had no choice.

A new chapter of her life had begun, and she wasn’t sure whether to embrace it or flee. One thing was certain: things were never going to be the same again.

Y/N sat on the edge of her couch, the acceptance letter from UA Business School still sitting in her lap, the weight of it both comforting and unnerving. She couldn't stop looking at the words "Congratulations" and "Accepted" on the paper, but the rest of the letter—the unexpected inclusion of the dual hero certification program—had her thoughts in a whirl. She had only just gotten the letter, and already the implications were starting to sink in. But before she dove into the mess of it all, there was one thing she had to do.

Her phone buzzed on the coffee table, snapping her out of her thoughts. She picked it up, scrolled through her contacts, and found Izuku’s name. For a brief moment, she hesitated, her finger hovering over the screen. She knew he would be ecstatic, but the uncertainty of how things were about to change made her second-guess her enthusiasm. With a deep breath, she tapped his contact and waited for the call to connect.

The phone rang twice before she heard Izuku's voice, bright and eager, cutting through the quiet of her apartment. “Y/N! Hey!”

She smiled despite herself. “Hey, Izuku,” she said, her voice warmer than it had been moments ago. It was impossible to ignore how excited he sounded. It was like his energy had a way of making her feel a little lighter, even on days when things felt complicated. “I got some news.”

“Did you get in?!” Izuku blurted out almost immediately, his voice so full of hope that it almost made her laugh. She could practically picture him on the other end of the phone, eyes wide, hands clenched in excitement.

“Yeah, I did,” Y/N replied, unable to stop the smile spreading across her face. “I’m officially in the UA Business School.”

The moment the words left her lips, she could hear the explosion of joy in his voice. “That’s amazing! Congratulations!” Izuku practically shouted, his happiness infectious. “I knew you’d get in. You’re so smart, Y/N—there’s no way they wouldn’t accept you.”

Y/N chuckled softly, feeling her chest warm with the sincerity of his words. “Thanks, Izuku,” she said, her voice softer now. “I really appreciate you believing in me.”

A few seconds of silence stretched between them, and Y/N could almost imagine Izuku trying to compose himself, his excitement bubbling just beneath the surface. Finally, he spoke again, his voice full of questions. “So when do you start? Are they making you come to orientation, too? Did they send you a list of classes yet? Or—”

“Izuku, slow down,” she laughed, cutting him off before he could get too carried away. “I just got the acceptance, like, two minutes ago. I don’t have all the details yet.”

“Oh, right! Sorry, I just… I’m really happy for you,” Izuku stammered, his voice softening with embarrassment. 

“Thanks,” she said again, this time with a gentleness that matched the smile on her face. She couldn’t help it; hearing Izuku so genuinely happy for her made everything feel a little more real. “I wanted to tell you first. You’ve been my biggest supporter.”

Izuku’s response came quickly, his voice shy but sincere. “Well, of course! You’ve always supported me. It’s only fair.”

Y/N held the phone to her ear, letting a comfortable silence fill the space between them. She let the moment linger for a second, basking in the warmth of his words. But she knew she had to move on, that she needed to sort through everything on her own before she told him more than she was ready to. There was still a part of this whole situation that was… off. The dual hero certification program. That was something she wasn’t ready to unpack with Izuku just yet.

“Anyway,” she said, clearing her throat, “I’ll probably have more information soon. I’ll let you know what my schedule looks like when I get it.”

Izuku’s voice brightened again. “I can’t wait. We’ll finally be at UA together! It’s going to be great, Y/N.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, her smile fading just slightly. “It will be.”

The words felt hollow in her mouth, but she pushed the unease aside. She couldn’t tell him about the dual certification just yet. Not until she figured out how to navigate it herself. And that meant figuring out what she was even supposed to do with the new program. She’d be attending classes with heroes-in-training, with people who had been preparing for their careers as pro heroes for years. What did she know about hero training? What did *Hawks* think he was doing, recommending her for this?

But for now, she needed to let it go. She didn’t want to burden Izuku with the uncertainty. He had his own things to focus on—his own dreams of becoming a hero—and she didn’t want to complicate things. Not when this moment was supposed to be about celebrating. 

“Alright, I’ve got to go for now,” she said, her tone light despite the storm of thoughts swirling in her head. “But I’ll call you later.”

“Okay! Let me know if you need anything, alright?” Izuku’s voice was earnest, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile at how much he cared.

“I will,” she promised, feeling a brief flicker of warmth in her chest. “Take care, Izuku.”

The call ended, and Y/N sat back against the couch, her phone still pressed to her ear for a moment as if she could hear Izuku’s voice still echoing in her mind. She sighed, her smile fading as she set the phone down and turned her attention back to the letter. She knew she couldn’t avoid the bigger conversation forever.

Her fingers instinctively slid over to the text thread with Hawks. She had been texting him more and more recently—sometimes for advice, other times just to vent. But right now, she needed answers. She opened the thread and quickly typed out her message: *Nezu’s new program. You better have a good explanation for this.* She pressed send without thinking twice.

For a moment, she just stared at the screen, her mind once again turning over the implications of the acceptance letter. *Hero training.* She laughed bitterly. She could barely manage a normal day as a business student, let alone add *hero training* into the mix.

Her phone buzzed almost immediately, the familiar name flashing on the screen. Hawks had replied. 

*Of course, I do. I'll explain. Soon.* 

Y/N scowled at the screen. *This better be good,* she typed back, her frustration creeping into her words. *We’re having a talk when I get to UA.*

She tossed the phone onto the coffee table and leaned back, trying to shake off the tension that had taken root in her shoulders. There was no going back now. She had accepted her place in UA Business School, and she would find a way to make it work—even if it meant confronting whatever Hawks and Nezu had gotten her into.

She stared at the letter one last time. 

“Nezu,” she muttered under her breath. “You and I are going to have a long conversation.” 

And with that, she stood up, feeling the weight of the future settling on her shoulders. She wasn’t sure what was ahead, but one thing was for certain: this was just the beginning.

Y/N sat across from Principal Nezu in his office, the small creature exuding an aura of calm authority. His office, though modest, felt somehow imposing—like the kind of place where major decisions were made, decisions that would ripple through the future. The soft clink of his tea cup, which he had been casually sipping, filled the space between them, but Y/N couldn’t focus on that. Her mind was too preoccupied with the conversation that was about to unfold.

The few days it had taken to arrange this meeting felt like an eternity. Each passing moment since receiving the acceptance letter had only added to the confusion in her mind. The dual hero certification and business program, a concept she could barely wrap her head around, had set her thoughts into overdrive. But now, sitting here face-to-face with Nezu, she was determined to get some answers—clear, direct answers. The edge of her chair was digging into her palms as she gripped it tightly, the only physical anchor she could find in the sea of questions racing through her mind.

“So,” she began, her voice steadier than she felt, “I wanted to talk to you about the dual hero certification and business program you mentioned in my acceptance letter.”

Nezu’s sharp ears perked up slightly, and a knowing smile curved on his face. He set his tea down delicately on the saucer, his eyes gleaming with an intelligence that seemed to pierce through her. “Ah, yes. I had a feeling you might have questions. Please, ask away.”

Y/N exhaled, her mind whirling as she tried to gather her thoughts. She had anticipated this conversation, but now that it was happening, she still felt like she was chasing shadows. There were so many unknowns, and she needed clarity.

“Why me?” she asked bluntly, not wasting any time. “I mean, I’m not exactly the type of person you'd expect in a hero certification program. And I didn’t take the practical exam. Why was I accepted into something like this?”

Nezu chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Ah, you’ve been doing your homework. Well, the short answer is that you were recommended for this program by none other than Pro Hero Hawks.” He leaned forward, his tone almost conspiratorial. “His endorsement carried a great deal of weight. In his letter, he described you as someone with immense potential, an unparalleled analytical mind, and a unique perspective that could bridge the gap between heroics and strategy.”

Y/N blinked in surprise. Hawks? The Pro Hero who was known for his laid-back personality and undeniable skill? She never imagined that someone like him would take such an interest in her. She had met him a few times, sure, but they were never particularly close. The idea that he would go so far as to recommend her for a dual certification program left her speechless.

“That’s… a lot,” she muttered, still trying to process the unexpected development. But then, another concern crept into her mind. “But I’m quirkless. I don’t see how I fit into a program meant for heroes.”

Nezu’s smile remained unshaken. “Precisely why you are perfect for this program, Miss L/N.” His voice held a calm certainty, as if he had been expecting this line of questioning. “Allow me to explain. The dual hero certification and business program is an experimental track we’re piloting this year. You’re the very first participant—a pioneer, if you will.”

She blinked, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “Wait, so I’m going to be doing hero training? With Class 1-A?”

Nezu nodded enthusiastically. “Correct! Your mornings will be spent with Class 1-A, attending their heroics classes and practical training. You won’t be expected to fight like a traditional hero, of course. But your role will be to learn the inner workings of heroism—strategies, tactics, and the real-world applications of their work. Your afternoons will be focused on business-related courses with Class 1-J. And in the evenings, you’ll be studying core subjects independently, as you are the sole student in this program.”

Y/N felt a wave of disbelief wash over her. Hero training? With the same students who were preparing to become Pro Heroes? This is insane, she thought. I don’t belong there.

“Wait,” she said, her voice steady despite the mounting uncertainty. “So, I’ll be in Class 1-A, doing their practical training alongside them, even though I didn’t take the exam?”

Nezu’s eyes gleamed with something akin to pride. “Yes. You won’t be required to take the usual practical exam since you were granted a bypass. Your training with Class 1-A will effectively serve as your practical exam. You will still need to meet the physical and mental requirements, but your focus will be on understanding and analyzing the data and decisions behind the heroes’ actions.”

Y/N’s head spun. This is insane, she thought again. She had never considered herself a fighter, never thought she would be involved in hero work. She was more comfortable in an office, crunching numbers and analyzing situations from behind the scenes. But this? This was a completely different world.

“So, I’m essentially proving myself every day, through my training?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Nezu smiled broadly, the gesture almost fatherly. “Precisely.”

Y/N let out a long breath, running a hand through her hair. This whole thing felt like an experiment, and she was the subject. “Alright. One last question,” she said, her voice firmer now. “How do you expect me to survive hero training without a quirk?”

Nezu’s expression softened, and he leaned back in his chair. “That, Miss L/N, is where the true challenge lies. Your acceptance into this program isn’t just about your analytical abilities. It’s about proving that those without quirks can still contribute meaningfully to the hero world. This program will show that strategy, data, and intelligence are just as valuable as power. Hawks believes in you, and so do I.”

She looked down at her hands, her fingers curling into tight fists. The weight of his words settled heavily on her shoulders. People were depending on her to prove that quirkless individuals had something valuable to offer. It was a daunting responsibility—one she wasn’t sure she was ready for.

“Well,” she said after a long pause, finally meeting Nezu’s gaze, “I guess I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

Nezu chuckled lightly, his smile warm. “You always have a choice, Miss L/N. But I do hope you’ll see this as an opportunity rather than a burden. The world needs people like you—people who can see things from a different perspective.”

Y/N nodded slowly, standing up from her chair. She still didn’t know if she was fully on board with this program, but she was in it now. There was no turning back.

“Thank you for explaining everything, Principal Nezu,” she said, her voice steady. “I’ll do my best.”

“I have no doubt you will,” Nezu replied, his voice full of unwavering confidence. “Good luck, Y/N. Welcome to UA.”

As she left his office, Y/N couldn’t help but mutter under her breath, her mind still racing with unanswered questions, “What the hell have I gotten myself into?”

Y/N stood in the corner of a quiet street, the pay phone cold against her hand as she slid a few coins into the slot. The metallic clink echoed in the stillness, breaking the silence that had surrounded her for weeks. For the first time in what felt like forever, she dialed a familiar number. The line rang once, then twice, and her breath caught in her throat.

“Hello?” a deep voice answered, warm yet tinged with concern.

“Pops,” she said softly, her voice trembling with emotion.

There was a brief pause before his voice grew sharper, worry lacing every word. “Y/N? Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick. Where are you? Please, come home.”

Her grip on the receiver tightened, her knuckles white. She pressed her forehead against the cold glass of the booth, eyes shut tightly as the weight of everything she’d been running from threatened to overwhelm her. “I can’t, Pops.”

His voice grew more urgent. “What do you mean, you can’t? This isn’t a request, Y/N. Come home. We’ll fix this—whatever it is. Just come back.”

A lump formed in her throat, and she swallowed hard. “I love you, Pops. I do. But I can’t go back. Not while he’s still there.”

The silence on the other end of the line was heavy, followed by a soft, pained sigh. “Your brother? What did he do this time?”

Y/N’s breath hitched, and a bitter laugh bubbled from her lips, though it sounded more like a sob. “He tried to stop me. Told me I was abandoning the family. So he... he tore me apart, Pops. Ripped my arms off like I was nothing—like I wasn’t even human.”

She heard her father’s sharp intake of breath, followed by an anguished curse. “Y/N, I didn’t know. If I had—”

“I know,” she interrupted, her voice steadying. “You didn’t know. You tried to keep the peace. But this... this was the last straw. I can’t go back, Pops. Not ever.”

“Where are you?” he asked softly. “Are you safe?”

“I’m fine,” she lied, her hand trembling at her side. “I’ve got a place to stay. I’ve even got a plan now. I’m going to UA—business school.”

“UA?” His voice was surprised, but there was a glimmer of hope in it. “That’s... that’s good, Y/N. I’m proud of you.”

His words hit her harder than she expected. She closed her eyes, letting the relief wash over her for just a moment. “Thank you, Pops. I just... needed to hear your voice. Let you know I’m okay. I love you.”

“I love you too, kiddo,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “And if you ever need me—no matter what—you call, alright? I’ll always be here for you.”

“I know,” she whispered, the lump in her throat threatening to choke her.

With a final glance at the receiver, Y/N hung up the phone. Her hand lingered for a moment before she slowly turned away, the weight of the conversation pressing heavily on her chest. But as she walked away, a faint sense of lightness crept into her heart. For the first time in a long time, she felt a small flicker of hope.

Y/N adjusted the tie of her UA uniform, making sure it was perfectly straight as she checked her reflection in the mirror. The low hum of the television filled the background, and she absentmindedly watched the news recap about the villain attacks from the past month. Her attention wavered, but then something on the screen caught her eye.

A flash of green. 

She froze, her eyes narrowing as she fully turned to face the TV. There, in the middle of the chaos, was a familiar figure: Izuku. Her heart skipped a beat as she watched him dash forward, his face set in determination as he charged toward a massive slime villain. The newscaster’s voice filled the silence.

“…a brave bystander stepped in during the attack to save another student from being captured by the villain. Thankfully, All Might arrived in time to subdue the threat, but the actions of this young individual were nothing short of reckless heroism.”

Y/N’s grip on the edge of the counter tightened as she focused on the image of Izuku. His face was determined, but it only fueled the knot of frustration that was quickly building inside her. The footage showed him rushing in, a glimpse of him being nearly swallowed by the villain before All Might saved the day. Her eyes flickered to the date in the corner of the screen—this had happened a few weeks ago.

“Reckless heroism is right,” Y/N muttered, her patience quickly wearing thin. 

She stood there, staring at the screen, processing the sight of Izuku risking his life without telling her. Not a word about this. She could feel her temper rising, her frustration seeping out with every second. He hadn’t even thought to tell her about this stupid stunt. They’d always talked about everything, or so she’d thought. But this—this reckless charge into danger without a second thought—was something she never expected from him.

“Oh, I’m definitely getting onto him for this,” she grumbled, crossing her arms tightly as the news segment came to an end.

She grabbed her bag off the table, her steps purposeful as she marched toward the door. Her frustration simmered beneath the surface, her mind racing with thoughts of what she was going to say to him. She wasn’t sure if she was more angry or worried, but she knew one thing: she was going to have a serious talk with Izuku about his complete lack of self-preservation.

"Seriously, Izuku," she muttered under her breath as she stepped outside, the door clicking shut behind her. "What were you thinking?" 

The school year hadn’t even started, and she was already dealing with this. One thing was for sure—he wasn’t getting away with this one.

The classroom was filled with a hum of nervous excitement, the air thick with anticipation. This was Izuku Midoriya’s first day in Class 1-A, and it felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. His heart raced as he stood at the doorway, clutching his bag tightly, unsure of what to expect. He had heard so much about his new classmates, and now he was finally here, about to take his first step into the world he had always dreamed of.

As he hesitated, the sounds of laughter and chatter bounced off the walls, and the excitement of meeting new people became a reality. But as he scanned the room, his hope that certain individuals wouldn’t share his class quickly evaporated when he spotted the last people he ever wanted to face. Katsuki Bakugo and Tenya Iida were in the middle of a heated argument, their voices rising as the tension between them escalated.

“Great…” Izuku muttered under his breath, feeling the familiar pang of unease settle in his chest. The last thing he needed on his first day was to get caught in the middle of a fight between the two of them.

Before he could retreat into the safety of the back of the room, Tenya Iida noticed him. With his usual air of formality, Tenya adjusted his glasses and walked over with the precision of a military officer, his footsteps quick and purposeful.

“Midoriya, correct?” Tenya said, offering a polite bow. “I did not have the chance to properly introduce myself during the exams. Iida Tenya, of the esteemed Iida family.”

Izuku’s heart fluttered nervously, and he instinctively bowed in return. “Uh, hi! Nice to meet you!” he stammered, his voice shaky as he tried to keep it together.

Before Tenya could respond, a cheerful voice rang out across the room.

“Midoriya!” It was Ochaco Uraraka, her bright, friendly smile lighting up the room. She jogged over to him, stopping just short of bumping into him. “It’s so good to see you! Thank you again for saving me during the exams. You were amazing!”

Izuku’s face flushed bright red as he tried to deflect her praise. “I-It was nothing, really! I just—”

But before he could finish his sentence, a voice from behind him cut through the air like a knife. “What the hell is this?”

Izuku’s heart sank as he recognized the voice instantly. Bakugo. His fiery glare locked onto Izuku with the intensity of a thousand suns. Bakugo marched over, shoving past Tenya and Ochaco without so much as a glance in their direction. 

“You cheated, didn’t you? There’s no way you got into U.A. without a Quirk,” Bakugo spat, his voice dripping with contempt. “Spill it!”

Izuku’s stomach churned with anxiety, but this time, something inside him shifted. He clenched his fists, refusing to let Bakugo get to him again. “I didn’t cheat, Kacchan,” he said, his voice steady but filled with determination. “I got in because I worked hard. You’re just mad because I’m here too.”

For a split second, Bakugo’s eyes widened in surprise, taken aback by the rare defiance from Izuku. His usual scowl faltered, but it quickly returned, fiercer than ever. “You’ve got some nerve…” he growled, stepping closer, his fists clenching.

But before their confrontation could escalate, a sharp voice cut through the tension.

“Izuku!”

All eyes turned toward the door, where Y/N L/N stood, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. Her expression was hard, her stance commanding attention as she marched into the room. The tension in the air seemed to shift as she moved past the others and directly toward Izuku.

Izuku’s eyes went wide, his mouth hanging open in shock. “Y-Y/N?!” he stammered, surprised to see her here, of all places.

Y/N stormed up to him, grabbed him by the ear, and without warning, yanked him toward the corner of the room. “You and I need to have a talk later, Izuku,” she said, her voice sharp, her irritation clear. “You didn’t think to tell me about the slime attack? I saw the news, you reckless idiot.”

Izuku winced as his ear was tugged painfully. “Ow, ow, ow! Okay! I’m sorry!” he yelped, his face red with embarrassment as he tried to pull away from her grip. 

Y/N finally let go, releasing him with a frustrated sigh. Her gaze immediately turned to Bakugo, and her expression hardened. Her eyes narrowed, and her lips curled into a frown. “You,” she said, her tone dripping with disdain, as though she had seen this person far too many times before. 

Bakugo’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of recognition crossing his face. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. You’re the freak who always got in my way,” he sneered, his usual animosity towards Y/N flaring back to life.

Y/N’s hand moved instinctively to touch the eye patch over her left eye. Her fingers brushed against the fabric, but she quickly forced her hand back to her side. Her glare never wavered as she locked eyes with Bakugo. “And you’re the bully who ruined my life,” she said, her voice cold and unforgiving. “Let’s call it even.”

The room fell into a heavy silence. Tenya and Ochaco exchanged uneasy glances, both unsure of how to handle the palpable tension between Y/N and Bakugo. Y/N, however, seemed unaffected as she turned her back on Bakugo, clearly deciding he wasn’t worth her time.

Ochaco, ever the optimist, approached cautiously, her friendly smile back on her face. “Hi! I’m Ochaco Uraraka. You’re friends with Midoriya?” she asked, her tone light and welcoming.

Y/N glanced at her, her expression softening just a fraction. “Yeah, you could say that. I’m Y/N L/N. I’m here for the business program.”

Tenya stepped forward, bowing politely as he introduced himself. “A pleasure to meet you, L/N. Iida Tenya. If you’re friends with Midoriya, then you’re surely someone of great character.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow at him but nodded politely. “Thanks. Nice to meet you both.”

Izuku, still rubbing his sore ear, managed to find his voice. “Y-You’re in the business program? I thought—”

“I’ll explain later,” Y/N interjected, cutting him off with a wave of her hand. “Just know I’ll be keeping an eye on you, nerd. You’re not getting out of that scolding.”

As she turned back toward the others, Bakugo stood silently, his fists clenched, his glare still fixed on Y/N. The memory of their last encounter lingered in his mind, but for now, he held his tongue. The tension was thick enough to cut through, but he knew better than to escalate it any further, at least not here.

Class 1-A was already shaping up to be far more eventful than anyone had anticipated.