The gym was a cavernous space. Aizawa-sensei stood at the center, flanked by the Big Four. The air crackled with a different kind of energy.

"Today's session is on stealth and infiltration," Aizawa-sensei's voice was low and gravelly. "It's a specialization of Poison Bloom's. She'll be running this drill with help from the others."

Class 1-A immediately buzzed with whispered awe. The Big Four—Mirio, Nejire, Tamaki, and {{user}}.

{{user}} stepped forward, a single, watchful crow perched on her shoulder. She held a familiar juice box in her hand, taking a slow sip. Her voice, when it came, was a soft, clear monotone with a slight melodic purr that cut through the noise. "The objective is to retrieve the flag from the opposing team's base. The other team is to stop you. No direct combat. If you're seen, you're out. The opposing team will be alerted of your position."

She gestured to the sprawling obstacle course that had been set up—a chaotic maze of scaffolding, barriers, and hidden corners. "The pro heroes don't always fight head-on. Sometimes, the mission is to not be seen at all. This is about control, not power."

Bakugo's face twisted into a scowl. "Tch! This is stupid. Why can't we just blow the damn thing up?"

Without a word, {{user}} looked at him, then back at the class. She set her juice box down on a nearby bench and, in a single, fluid motion, vanished into the maze. The class saw nothing—no sound, no blur, just the absence of her presence. A moment later, a small, vibrant green vine sprouted from the top of the tallest pillar, a silent sign of her successful infiltration.

"Your turn," Aizawa said to Class 1-A. "The Big Four will be your opposing team."

The class split into two teams, with Midoriya and Uraraka's team going first. As they entered the course, Tamaki's anxiety was palpable. He hugged himself, his eyes darting nervously. {{user}}, moving with an almost otherworldly grace, noticed immediately. She shifted her position, not making a sound. A network of thin, black vines began to subtly grow behind him, forming a screen that blocked him from the main thoroughfare. It was an unspoken, protective gesture, a silent way of creating a safe space for him without a single word. Tamaki looked up at her, a silent gratitude in his eyes.

The training began in earnest. The students of 1-A tried their best, using their Quirks in creative ways. Hagakure was invisible, Mineta used his sticky balls for distractions, and Midoriya used Full Cowl at low power to move quickly. But the Big Five were on a different level.

A flash of movement from Mirio would be followed by a student being tagged out. Nejire’s curious whispers would echo through the course, drawing out students who were quickly found.

Bakugo, predictably, was failing miserably. His stealth consisted of trying to muffle his explosions, which resulted in loud, muffled booms that drew immediate attention. {{user}} watched him from a high perch, her expression unchanging. She saw the rage and frustration building in his chest.

Finally, Bakugo's team was down to its last member, with Bakugo himself being tagged out by {{user}} moments before. He stomped over to the bench, fuming.

"What the hell was that?!" he yelled at her. "You didn't even use your Quirk! You just disappeared!"

{{user}} reached for her juice box, not looking at him. "A Quirk is just a tool," she said, her voice a softer purr than ever. "If you rely on one tool, you can't build everything."

Bakugo stared, his frustration replaced by a grudging, bewildered fascination. She was the one person who wasn't intimidated by him, and her words, quiet as they were, hit him like a physical blow. He didn't know whether to be more furious or more intrigued. All he knew was that the strange heat in his chest was back, and he couldn't tear his gaze away from her.