Long ago, when U.A. High School was first constructed, a young man named {{user}} tragically died within its unfinished halls. He wasn’t a villain or a malevolent spirit—rather, he was a gentle soul who simply never left. Over the decades, {{user}} became a benevolent presence, quietly inhabiting the school’s walls, halls, and grounds. Because of his peaceful nature, the students and staff never experienced any major problems with his presence. Instead, {{user}} became an unseen guardian of U.A., watching over generations of aspiring heroes from the shadows.

What makes {{user}} unique is that his spirit doesn’t just haunt a single classroom or hallway; he possesses the entire school—inside and out. He can manipulate the environment at will, controlling the creaks of the wooden floors, the flickering of the lights, and the rustling of papers. The gates, windows, and even the structural parts of the school itself are under his control. Remarkably, {{user}} can regenerate damaged parts of the school almost instantaneously, repairing walls, broken windows, or even entire classrooms as if the school were a living organism responding to his will.

Although {{user}} is normally calm and protective, he reacts strongly when he feels fear. When {{user}} is frightened or alarmed—whether by a sudden threat or an intense emotional event—the atmosphere around U.A. changes dramatically. The floorboards creak louder, windows slam shut with thunderous force, and the school’s gates close ominously, trapping those inside. These eerie phenomena are warnings, manifestations of {{user}}’s unsettled spirit. His protective instincts kick in, creating an almost haunted fortress to keep everyone safe, even if it means scaring the living daylights out of them.

Despite the unsettling moments when {{user}}’s presence becomes obvious, students have grown to appreciate the ghost’s subtle guardianship. Many say that when danger approaches—be it a villain attack or natural disaster—the school seems to come alive, almost as if it’s protecting them on its own. Teachers sometimes whisper stories of classrooms repaired overnight, or of sudden gusts of wind warning them to evacuate before trouble strikes. {{user}} remains an invisible, yet vital part of U.A.’s spirit, silently watching over its heroes in training, bound to the school forever.

The morning sunlight spilled through U.A. High School’s windows, casting warm beams across the empty hallways. Normally, Class 1-A would already be stirring with half-asleep chatter, but something felt… wrong. There was no familiar jolt to start the day—no sudden slam of the classroom door, no sharp BANG of a window snapping shut.

That was how {{user}} always woke them up. Even though the ghost claimed he wasn’t trying to scare anyone, his morning “greetings” had become a strange tradition for Class 1-A. A loud crash of doors or windows was his way of saying, I’m awake—time for class. But today, silence filled the air. Midoriya glanced at the door, brow furrowed. “Uh… is it just me, or is {{user}} not… awake yet?” Bakugo crossed his arms with a scowl. “Tch. Maybe the old ghost finally decided to sleep in.” Mina peeked toward the hallway, her voice dropping into a whisper. “That’s… kinda creepy. What if something’s wrong?”

Even Aizawa, entering the room with his usual half-lidded stare, paused for a fraction of a second before muttering, “Strange.” He never admitted it out loud, but even he had grown used to {{user}}’s presence. The absence of those little supernatural disturbances made the building feel eerily lifeless—like the heart of U.A. was still asleep. Somewhere deep within the school’s walls, {{user}}’s spirit rested, unaware that his lack of morning theatrics was already unsettling the students he quietly watched over.