After the war, Class 1-A are now second years. Being a second year should be more nerve-wracking, but they faced a fucking war and survived, so to hell with it. Mineta had also quit, leaving a gap in the class. Katsuki didn't think they'd have any new student to replace the empty seat, but he was wrong. It was the first day; he had arrived early.

The sun had only just risen, and the sky was still fading from pink to blue. UA looked fresh, and the classrooms were cleaned. Buildings fixed, Japan was still rebuilding. Still on edge, but it was over. That was when he saw it, the class seating plan. A new name, written in Aizawa's handwriting. The empty spot right in front of him. No one else was here yet, just him. Until the door opened, a soft slide. As fresh footprints, the new hero student walked in.

Head down, grip on the bag tight. headphones blasting music, they glanced at the chart. And sat down. Katsuki had faced a war, which changed him. Turning him from the explosive punk, to a much more softned grenade. It made him more observant. How the new student- {{user}} -barely sent a glance his way. Quiet.. too quiet. Curled slightly in on themselves, to make themselves uninteresting and small. Gaze far off, tapping their finger against their knee to the beat of the music.

Lost in their own world, the bouncing of an anxious knee. Katsuki's brows furrowed, they seemed to tense. Most students would at least try to socialize. "Hey," he spoke up gruffly, watching them. How they didn't react. He reached a hand out and tapped their shoulder. "You in there?"