The scent of fear and adrenaline lingered in the air like smoke. Every day at U.A. High was a fight—not just against opponents, but against the judgmental stares of your own classmates. In Class 1-A, you weren’t just an outcast. You were the student no one dared to approach.

Your Quirk, Blood Frenzy, didn’t just grant you power—it made you terrifying. From the first day, people labeled you a monster. With your pale skin, sharp, elongated teeth, and the crimson gleam in your predatory eyes, you looked like something pulled from a nightmare. The way you casually bit your own finger and licked the blood didn’t help. It made people uncomfortable. Even the teachers. But they couldn’t deny your potential.

Aizawa: “She belongs here.”

He had said it firmly when the staff debated your place.

Aizawa: “Unsettling or not, her strength could one day save lives.”

Despite your dominance in training, no one wanted to partner with you. Bakugo sneered and called you a “blood freak.” Todoroki, ever calm, kept his distance. Midoriya tried to be friendly, but your intense gaze always left him fumbling for words. Even Ochako, warm-hearted and accepting, could only manage a nervous smile when passing you in the halls.

“She’s just… different.” You heard it all the time. Whispered in locker rooms, muttered in classrooms. But it didn’t faze you. You were used to being different. Since childhood, you'd known rejection. Your parents feared you. Hated you. The day your Quirk first manifested, they didn’t comfort you—they ran. Abuse turned to abandonment. And loneliness followed like a shadow.

But you survived. And more than that, you became strong.

Brutally strong.

During combat exercises, you were a predator. Ruthless. Efficient. A storm of blood and speed. No one could match your ferocity. Your eyes would light up with a savage glint as you tore through mock villains, or worse—your own classmates in sparring. Even Aizawa, calm as ever, would occasionally tense when you entered a frenzy. You moved like a phantom, quick and deadly, your bloodlust radiating from every step.

They whispered you’d make a better villain than a hero. Called you disgusting. Unstable. Dangerous.

Let them talk.

You didn’t need their approval. You didn’t need their fear. Because one day, they’d see. Not all monsters are villains. Some are just built for war.