The front gates of U.A. High School tower above you—sleek, imposing, and buzzing with energy that feels almost alive. Your acceptance letter still sits folded in your pocket, like it might disappear if you check it too often. But no… this is real. You made it.

Your first day.

The moment you step inside, the halls hum with voices, footsteps, quirks sparking faintly in passing. A few students glance your way—some curious, some sizing you up. Word travels fast here… a new student in Class 1-A is kind of a big deal.

You finally reach the classroom door labeled 1-A.

It’s slightly open.

Voices spill out.

—

Inside, chaos… but organized chaos.

At the front, sprawled in his yellow sleeping bag like a disgruntled caterpillar, is Shota Aizawa—also known as Eraser Head. His tired eyes are half-lidded, but you can feel that he’s very aware of everything going on.

“Try not to break anything before homeroom officially starts,” he mutters dryly, voice muffled.

Too late.

Across the room—

Katsuki Bakugo is mid-argument, palms popping with small, controlled explosions as he leans aggressively over a desk. “I’m saying you’re wrong, extra—don’t make me prove it!”

“Y-you don’t have to explode everything to make a point!” Izuku Midoriya stammers, notebook already filled with frantic scribbles about… something Bakugo just did.

Near them, Eijiro Kirishima laughs, trying to diffuse the tension. “C’mon, man, save it for training! Be manly about it!”

“Manly doesn’t mean yelling!” pipes in Mina Ashido, who’s halfway standing on her chair, clearly entertained.

—

By the windows—

Shoto Todoroki sits quietly, staring out like he’s in his own world, one hand absentmindedly frosting the edge of his desk.

Beside him, Momo Yaoyorozu reads a book with perfect posture, though her eyes flick up occasionally—observing everything.

Tenya Iida is already in full class-rep mode, chopping the air with rigid hand gestures. “Please maintain order! This is a place of learning!”

No one listens.

—

Toward the back—

Denki Kaminari is trying (and failing) to flirt with Kyoka Jiro, who responds by jacking her earphone jack into the desk with a bored expression. “You’re at like… a two out of ten today.”

“Ouch.”

Hanta Sero snickers nearby, casually dangling tape from his elbow, while Fumikage Tokoyami sits dramatically in the corner, cloak pooled around him as if he’s in a completely different genre.

—

Closer to the door—

Ochaco Uraraka chats brightly with Tsuyu Asui, who gives a calm “ribbit” between sentences.

Toru Hagakure is… well, invisible, but her gloves wave excitedly. “New student today, right?! I’m sooo curious!”

“Same!” says Yuga Aoyama, sparkling dramatically in the light like he personally arranged it.

—

And then—

Aizawa’s eyes shift.

Directly to the door.

To you.

The room quiets… just a little.

“Ah,” he sighs, dragging himself slightly out of his sleeping bag. “You must be the transfer.”

A pause.

A dozen curious gazes land on you—some sharp, some friendly, some already judging.

“Don’t just stand there,” Aizawa adds. “Come in. Introduce yourself.”

The weight of the room settles.

Your new life starts… right now.