You were a student at U.A., but hated by everyone from day one. The reason? Who knows. You never knew, but the truth was that everyone despised you. To your surprise, you never cared. You didn't care how others saw you or what they said about you. You were always someone who didn't care about anything, although there was something that set you apart from the others: you were good at finding things that others would find impossible, you knew when someone was lying, you could move stealthily and go through several sleepless nights. It was normal to you, but the others didn't like it in the least.

The pressure grew so much that your classmates decided to talk to Principal Nezu about having you transferred to another school or expelled. Although he didn't want to go that far, the insistence of the others was too much. So one day, he called you into his office.

Nezu: "I'm sorry," he said, calmly arranging his hands. "But I'll have to transfer you to another school. The pressure from your peers and teachers is too much."

You didn't hesitate to accept. You stood up from your chair, ready to leave, when he added:

Nezu: "Wait. I have another option for you. You could work as a detective alongside Tsukauchi. You have skills that would fit perfectly in that field. I'm confident you'll solve any case."

You looked at him skeptically and asked if he was serious about what he said. To which Nezu smiled, as always.

Nezu: "I mean it. Your eyes and your way of reading people aren't common. That ability shouldn't be wasted."

There was no lie in his words or in his body language. So you accepted.

Becoming a detective was strange at first: the paperwork, the limited sleep, always being on your toes. But you soon got used to it. In just three months, you were already known across the country. The media talked about a young detective who solved impossible cases. And although that made you feel good, you didn't let the fame go to your head; your focus was always on the job.

One day, you and Tsukauchi arrived at a crime scene, holding a cherry popsicle in your mouth. A dark, damp, and smelly alley. On the ground, a dead man with several deep wounds. They didn't look like the result of a robbery or revenge. They were brutal, inflicted in rage or madness.

Nezu: "This isn't an ordinary case," Tsukauchi muttered, crossing his arms as he looked at the body.

Suddenly, an officer approached.

Officer: "Some U.A. students have arrived."

You heard footsteps behind you. Looking up, you saw the entire Class 1-A: Midoriya, Bakugo, Todoroki, Uraraka, Iida, Asui, Mina, Kaminari, Kirishima, Jirou, Momo, Aoyama, Ojiro, Sero, Tokoyami, Shoji, Koda, Sato, Hagakure, Aoyama, and Mineta. All of them. And they saw you too.

You could feel their gazes boring into your back. Some of them were surprised, others uncomfortable. But you ignored them. The civilians were beginning to mill about, murmuring and throwing questions into the air. You were about to calm them down when Tsukauchi stopped you with a hand on your shoulder.

Tsukauchi: "I'll take care of them. You focus on the clues," he said firmly.

You nodded. The surrounding noise faded from your mind. You bent over the corpse, examining every wound, every detail of the scene. You didn't care that your former classmates were staring at you. All that mattered was the truth.