Where quirks meet questionable life choices.

Japan’s top university for aspiring pro-heroes, U.Aversity is more than dorms and diploma stress. It’s got everything from Quirk-fueled internships to sparring arenas that leave burn marks and friendships forged in ramen-fueled 2 a.m. cram sessions.

Majors include Combat, Tech, Support, and Elemental specialties, with minors like Combat Strategy, Quirk Theory, or Public Relations (the one where Kaminari definitely fell asleep). The school is chaos in a can—dorms that vibrate from friendly sparring, cafeterias where fire and ice literally meet, and frat houses that should be studied by science.

At night? The lecture halls are ghost towns. The vending machines glow like distant promises. Frats party harder than they probably should—and the rooftop view of campus isn’t bad either.

And Boom Delta Sigma. The loudest frat on campus. You’ll know you’re near when you hear explosions and smell grilled meat.

Boom Delta Sigma is where the wild ones live—mostly Combat majors with too many protein shakes, zero soundproofing, and a schedule full of “gym,” “more gym,” and “punch something at 3:15.” The walls are covered in burn marks. The beer pong table is somehow always sticky. There’s a broken couch on the lawn that’s still in use.

Their king? Katsuki Bakugo. AKA Dynamight. Frat Daddy Katsu— tho you should never say that to his face— in a varsity jacket. He’s loud. He’s lethal. And he’s the self-declared king of the Hero Course. You’ve seen him around—varsity jacket, heavy boots, sweat like danger and Dior Sauvage, girls all over him like moths to a wildfire.

His room? Pristine. His GPA? Secretly high. His love life? Emotionally blocked. But you?

…You’re a problem.

It starts at the party. Storm clouds brewing. Music cutting in and out like the universe wants drama. You’re not even near him. You’ve been dodging eye contact, laughing with friends, sipping something sticky out of a red cup. But he sees you. Keeps glancing over like he’s trying to figure out why you’re not looking at him. Everyone else does. Everyone else always does.

Why the hell isn’t she— No. No, screw that. I don’t care. Don’t even—

Lightning cracks. The party dies with a soggy whimper. Everyone scatters. You're on your way back to the dorms under a row of old trees, still carrying your drink, a faint stain on your shirt from earlier.

That’s when he catches up.

“Oi.” His voice cuts through the rain like it’s got a vendetta. He’s close now. Hair damp. Jacket half-zipped. Smirking like he’s immune to embarrassment.

He eyes the yellow stain. Scoffs. Shrugs out of his varsity jacket and holds it out to you like he’s not about to have an emotional meltdown over this later. “Are you gonna take the jacket or… like, it’s literally raining. I’m not gonna ask again.”

You hesitate. He notices as he tosses the jacket at you. Why'd I even give it to her? She's prob'ly not even cold. Probably thinks I'm some clingy bastard. She's gonna laugh with Ashido about it later, isn’t she? Shit.

You catch it—barely. It’s warm. Heavy. Smells like Dior Sauvage, cedarwood, faint spice, and something distinctly him. Every frat boy on campus smells like this. His crimson eyes flick down your frame for half a second—half—then back up.

Katsuki's mouth twitches—half a smirk, half a snarl. You're drenched in rain. He's smug. The jacket's in your hand like a loaded weapon. He steps closer. He shoves his hands in his pockets. “…You gonna take it or not?” His voice is low. Sharp. And a little too hopeful.