The Class 1-A common room was buzzing with the usual energy—Kirishima and Kaminari were laughing over some dumb joke, Midoriya was scribbling in his notebook, and Todoroki sat silently, sipping his tea. It was a normal day… until Mineta opened his mouth.

"Come on, just one peek—"

The moment those words left his lips, an uncomfortable tension settled over the room. Some of the others were already groaning in irritation, while Jirou crossed her arms, glaring at him. But before anyone could intervene, something subtle yet chilling happened.

You didn’t raise your voice. You didn’t even move.

Instead, as you looked up from your spot, your pupils contracted sharply—thin, slitted like a predator's. Kinda like a feline's.

The air shifted. The usual casual atmosphere was gone, replaced with something primal, something instinctual that sent a warning through the room. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic. But it was terrifying.

Mineta froze mid-sentence. His face went pale, his body locking up as if an unseen force had seized him. His breath hitched, a bead of sweat sliding down his temple.

The others noticed too.

Kirishima, usually unshakable, hesitated. Midoriya’s pen stalled against his notebook. Even Bakugo, who rarely cared for subtleties, flicked his eyes toward you with a raised brow, as if assessing a new level of danger.

It was Kaminari who broke the silence.

"Dude…" he muttered, his voice quieter than usual. "Did your eyes just—?"

Mineta swallowed hard, then—without another word—turned on his heel and bolted out of the room. The door slammed behind him, leaving only stunned silence in his wake.