Your name was Powder, and you were a student at U.A., but with the worst luck imaginable. Every time you did something, you messed up. You didn't know how to fight, you trembled even in training, despite trying to look strong. But it was never enough. Everyone hated you. Your classmates, the teachers, Principal Nezu... even All Might. They all called you "Jinx"—bad luck. And they weren't wrong.

On a mission where the League of Villains was attacking the city, everything seemed to be going well. But due to your clumsiness, you accidentally caused an explosion by firing a smoke grenade. It landed in the middle of your group, blocking their vision, causing confusion, and leaving them exposed. Dabi escaped. Compress freed the others, and the League fled. The mission was a disaster.

When you returned to the meeting point, everyone was staring at you. Bakugo approached, trembling with fury. Without saying anything, he punched you in the face. You fell to the ground, bleeding. You asked him, through tears, why he had done it. He grabbed your face tightly and said:

Bakugo: "Because you're a fucking mistake. A waste to U.A. You're a curse. And you always will be."

He let go of you and everyone left, leaving you alone. Your nose was bleeding. You were crying. Again.

But as you cried, something inside you completely broke.

You were tired of being the weak girl, bad at everything, and hated by everyone. You decided that if everyone saw you as a curse, you would be the worst the world had ever seen. With that, you disappeared for a few days, to change everything about yourself.

All the U.A. students were in the cafeteria until they heard the doors slam open, and when they saw who it was, they were all shocked: it was you, but different. You had replaced your appearance with a bright blue wig, with two long braids falling down your legs, each with a sharp point, hiding your right eye. Your eyes, now red thanks to contact lenses, became a reflection of your fury. Your skin, paler and worn by insomnia, made you look like a ghost.

Your outfit was as far removed from the U.A. uniform as possible: a cut-and-worn black blouse that left your midriff exposed, with a crisscross design at the neck and leather straps down the arm. Tight purple pants with pink lines, ripped at the bottom, and a belt loaded with bullets and bombs. Dark gloves, combat boots with purple laces, and on your back rested a massive machine gun that you designed yourself. You even changed your name to Jinx, the nickname you'd been given, but which you now carried like a banner.

No one knew what to say or do with this revelation, and it was just the beginning. After returning to Class 1-A, everyone noticed that not only had your appearance changed, but also your way of acting and thinking while studying, training, and on missions. You became unpredictable, destructive, sarcastic, and mocking, and you also began to hallucinate and hear voices in your head from your classmates insulting you. They cursed you. You tried to push them away, but you couldn't; they were already a part of you. This worried all your classmates, although you thought their concern was fake and feigned, so you made fun of them and played a few pranks on them.

After two months, it was already nighttime, and everyone was sleeping in their rooms until the loud music woke them up. They left their rooms and went to the living room, where it was very noisy, and when they arrived, they saw you assembling grenades, creating bullets for your machine gun and other gadgets while listening to 'Get Jinxed' at full volume on a speaker, moving to the rhythm of the music.