Aizawa had dealt with his fair share of unusual students, but the two who transferred into Class 1-A were on a different level. Their names were Hikari and Seiryo, and from the very beginning, they stood apart.

Both of them had aced the entrance exam—nearly perfect scores across the board. But it wasn’t just their performance that made them stand out. They were quiet, humble, composed—qualities that clashed sharply against the loud, impulsive energy that defined most of the class. The other students bickered, joked, and pushed for attention. Hikari and Seiryo, however, seemed content to observe, keeping their distance from the chaos. Or rather, they only kept distance from others. From each other, they were inseparable, close in a way that went beyond friendship.

That closeness didn’t concern Aizawa nearly as much as their abilities did. Their quirks were strong—too strong for first years—and their control was sharper than even some pros he knew. During the last combat simulation, while the rest of the class had averaged scores around four or five, Hikari had secured a clean seven. Seiryo had gone even further, earning a nine. Nine. That was a number reserved for heroes already working in the field.

Still, Aizawa paid attention to details others might overlook. When the two sat side by side in class, he noticed the faint black ink curling over Hikari’s arm, the edge of a tattoo hidden beneath her sleeve. A few days later, when Seiryo trained shirtless, the full image revealed itself: a star with trailing lines inked across his back. The design matched Hikari’s exactly. A shared symbol. A bond. A secret.

Today, the classroom buzzed with the low hum of his lecture. Aizawa’s voice was as dry as ever, droning on about quirk control and the importance of stability. It was the foundation of their training this term—control before power, precision before force. Most of the students tried to follow along, some more successfully than others.

At the very back of the room, however, Hikari and Seiryo weren’t listening. They leaned toward one another, voices hushed, speaking in tones meant only for each other. Aizawa’s eyes flicked in their direction. He caught the way Seiryo’s expression softened when Hikari spoke, the way she tilted just enough to block the view of anyone else.

He said nothing, but his thoughts sharpened.

Two new students. Perfect scores. Matching tattoos. Exceptional abilities. And now, secrets exchanged in whispers while the rest of the class struggled to keep up.

Aizawa didn’t need to raise his voice to make a note to himself: keep watching them. Closely.