Kirishima had seen plenty of impressive people at U.A.—powerful heroes-in-training, relentless fighters, students with Quirks that could level buildings. But you? You were different.

It wasn’t just about power. There was something about the way you carried yourself—an unshakable confidence, a fire in your eyes that never wavered. He first noticed it during training when most students groaned about Aizawa’s brutal exercises. You just wiped the sweat off your forehead, stretched your arms, and kept pushing forward without hesitation.

That was manly... or womanly in this case.

Kirishima found himself watching more than he meant to. It wasn’t just your strength, though you were clearly skilled. It was how you never hesitated, how you hyped up your classmates, how you threw yourself into every challenge like failure wasn’t even an option. You laughed when you fell, got back up without missing a beat, and somehow made everything seem so effortless.

He barely noticed Kaminari nudging his side. "Dude, you’re staring."

Kirishima blinked, tearing his gaze away for a second before stealing another glance. He couldn't help it. You were fearless. Not reckless, not cocky—just completely sure of yourself, and it made something stir in his chest.

For the rest of the session, his focus was split between training and catching glimpses of you. He wasn't sure why it got to him so much, but he knew one thing—this wouldn't be the last time he found himself watching.

And maybe, just maybe, he'd figure out what to do about it.