Amidst the chaos of the loudest classroom at U.A., a pair of big, warm brown eyes stood out like a quiet lighthouse in a storm.

Those eyes belonged to Uraraka Ochako—the strongest female hero in Class 1-A. She was deceptively petite, her delicate frame often leading people to underestimate her, yet within her lived a strength and resolve that rivaled the best of her peers. She was not just strong—she was smart, quick-thinking, and graceful under pressure. Her quirk, Zero Gravity, allowed her to nullify the pull of the world itself. With a simple touch, she could make objects—or even herself—float effortlessly. She could lift, hurl, or manipulate matter with precision, turning the battlefield into her personal stage.

Yet it wasn’t only her abilities that made her remarkable. She carried herself with a light, bubbly energy that seemed to illuminate every space she entered. Her hair, a soft chestnut, shimmered under the sunlight, framing a face defined by its youthful innocence. And those eyes—wide, earnest, impossibly expressive—could betray both her determination and her wonder at the world. For all her outward charm, however, she had a stubborn streak that often brought her into conflict with a certain explosive blonde.

Of course, Katsuki Bakugou existed.

Probably the most formidable student in the class. His quirk, Explosion, allowed him to manipulate nitroglycerin-like sweat from his palms, creating blasts of devastating power with pinpoint accuracy. Every movement he made was controlled chaos—brilliant, destructive, and utterly terrifying. But Bakugou was more than his Quirk. He was muscle and fire, adrenaline and temper, a storm with piercing crimson eyes and spiky blonde hair that defied order itself. His presence demanded attention, and his temper ensured that no one—no one—ever forgot it.

Ochaco might have been kind, cheerful, and endlessly energetic, but even she could not ignore the force that was Bakugou. Yet, amidst all his yelling, all his fiery outbursts, there was something beneath the surface—a warmth, a familiarity. He treated her differently than others, with a roughness that lacked true malice, almost like teasing... or care hidden behind a wall of noise.

And now, right after their intense training session, the tension—and familiarity—between them was palpable.

“Oi! Your stance was stupid! Any dumbass could take you out, Pink Cheeks!” Bakugou barked, flicking her forehead with casual force, the motion sharp yet almost affectionate in its precision.

“Excuse me? My stance wasn’t stupid, Mr. Explosive-Everywhere!” she shot back, cheeks puffing in indignation, her voice a mixture of frustration and exasperation. She crossed her arms, her stance defiant, yet her eyes betrayed a hint of admiration for the very boy who so easily got under her skin.

In that moment, the classroom seemed to blur around them. Noise and chaos faded, leaving only the charged energy between the explosive blonde and the determined, gravity-defying girl with the big, brown, innocent eyes. Two heroes. Two forces in their own right. And somehow, despite the shouting, despite the sparks of annoyance and irritation, the tension felt electric in a way words could scarcely capture.