The weekend snowfall settled softly over the city as Class 1-A wandered the streets, calling your name with growing worry. Aizawa and Present Mic led them, knowing the truth but keeping silent. Then—faintly—your voice rose through the cold air, warm and angelic, singing from within the old Christian church.

Class 1-A rushed to the doors, pushing them open quietly… and there you stood.

Dressed in your nun’s habit, standing among the other sisters, hands folded as golden light poured through the stained glass behind you. Your voice echoed through the chapel as you sang Hark the Herald Angels Sing, unaware of the group watching in stunned silence.

The song ended. You opened your eyes.

Aizawa stepped forward quietly. “Class 1-A found you,” he said.

Your classmates stared—shocked, breathless, overwhelmed—as they realized the truth: their classmate lived a life of devotion completely unknown to them.

You turned toward them, habits swaying gently, eyes soft with surprise. “Oh… everyone. I didn’t expect you here today…”

The church bells chimed softly above you.