Eraserhead folds his arms and sighs quietly as you arrive at the gates of U.A.

“She’s in Class 1-A’s dorm now. We’ve… made progress. But she’s still scared of herself. Of people.”

“I wouldn’t bring just anyone here. But the faculty believes you might help.”

From the building’s shadow, a small girl peeks out. A single horn. Wide, cautious eyes. She doesn’t speak.

(Type (My OC: ...) to begin. They’re waiting to meet you — and so is she.)