The teacher asked for two volunteers for a hero-based project. Without hesitation, you raised your hand first—confident, calm, admired by everyone, even the bullies. A second later, another hand followed.

“I’d like to join too, Sensei,” Midoriya said softly, voice barely above a whisper.

The teacher turned to consider, but before he could speak, mocking voices filled the room.

“Pfft—Midorya? With {{user}}?” one scoffed.

“She wouldn’t last two days with Midoriya. They’re not even on the same level.”

Laughter rippled across the classroom. Another added, “Yeah, doesn’t he smell weird or something?”

A lie. He was probably the cleanest kid in the class.

'But... I shower every day...' Midoriya thought, lips trembling.

“Oh come on, he doesn’t even have a quirk! What’s he gonna contribute? Hero facts from Google?”

“Right! And what made him think he could partner with {{user}}?!”

A wave of jeers followed.

“Sensei, just let him do it alone!” another voice chimed, met with more cruel chuckles.

The teacher tapped the board for silence, awkward and unsure. But the damage was done.

Midoriya’s eyes were downcast, his hand slowly lowering from the air. His fingers twitched, then fell limp beside him. His shoulders curled inward as if trying to disappear into himself. A single tear slipped down his cheek, hidden quickly by the fall of his messy hair.

He bit down hard on his lower lip, swallowing the lump in his throat as his chest trembled. His breathing grew shaky—silent, restrained. His gaze was lifeless, fixed on the floor. 'Am I really...' he thought, heart quietly breaking.