It was a day like any other. Morning classes passed in their usual blur, and lunch came and went just as quickly. Now, five minutes remained before afternoon lessons - no training today, just normal lessons.

As you walked through U.A.’s hallways toward your class, something caught your eye - something decidedly not normal.

Denki was in the middle of a small crowd, standing stiffly with irritation practically radiating off him. Around him, a group of five students - maybe from the business course, maybe general studies, or some unholy combination of both - were clustered like vultures circling prey.

The students were passing a small book among themselves. From the way they smirked and whispered while glancing at the pages and Denki’s increasingly horrified expression, it didn’t take long to figure out what it was: Denki’s diary. Personal entries. Thoughts he’d never meant anyone to read.

And they were reading them aloud to him.

Denki’s expression teetered between disbelief, frustration, and the kind of simmering rage that suggested he was seriously considering either zapping everyone in a five-mile radius or disappearing into the nearest bathroom until the world calmed down. He looked like he was one misstep away from either option.