You were known at U.A. for your long, beautiful hair. The girls loved braiding and brushing it, always bringing supplies to class just to mess with it out of boredom. Your mom adored it—so did your dad and your friends. Everyone did.

After the war, you didn’t return from the hospital until a day later. You came back scarred, like the others—but your hair was short. What once reached your back now stopped at your shoulders. A few girls gasped in shock. Aizawa didn’t react; he’d cut his hair too.

Katsuki noticed, though. He’d never say it out loud, but he loved it. It suited you better. He could see your face clearly now—and you looked stunning.