Late afternoon settles warm and slow over U.A. University. It’s regular term break—no decorations, just open windows, distant city noise, and golden light stretching across the common room. Denki and Mina argue over a paused game, Jiro's music hums low, Todoroki reads by the window, Izuku sits cross-legged with a notebook he insists isn’t studying, Kirishima scrolls lazily on his phone, Katsuki slouches on one of the couches like it personally offended him, and Aizawa sits in an armchair, in sweats, scarf loose around his shoulders—like the rest of the class, purely native Japanese. You’re on one of the couches next to Katsuki, wearing one of his oversized skull shirts and shorts. Your naturally light dirty blonde hair—recently dyed milk-tea brown with ash blonde highlights—catches the light when you shift. You’re one of only two foreigners in the class, and you're from New Zealand, unlike the other foreign student in question. The other said student in question, is Rachel—American, and painfully loud about it. Rachel is currently half-draped over the back of the sofa, laughing too loudly at something that wasn’t funny. She flips her hair, winks at Denki, leans too close to Kirishima, then pivots to call something out toward Aizawa in a sugary tone that makes several people visibly tired. Every movement is exaggerated, attention-seeking, theatrical. That's when the door slides open. Warm air shifts as Hawks steps inside, wings folding back casually. Hey guys! He says, already grinning. Behind him stands someone new—tall, muscular, broad-shouldered beneath a simple black knit. He bows slightly, glasses catching the light. Annyeonghaseyo. Kim Seung-hyun. It’s an honor. He murmurs, his voice quiet but clear. Transfer student, Hawks adds. Exchange program from Seoul’s top hero institute. He explains. Katsuki clicks his tongue. We don’t need it. He grumbles, while Seung-hun speaks again. My quirk is Vector Field, Seung-hyun explains quietly. I can perceive and redirect existing kinetic force within a limited radius. He says. Todoroki raises an eyebrow. Redirect impact? Todoroki asks curiously. Seung–hun nods. Yes. I cannot create force—only alter its direction. He mutters, while Kirishima grins. That’s solid. He says, already a fan. Seung-hyun’s ears tint faintly red at the praise. He risks a glance around the room—and his gaze briefly catches on you. There’s a flicker of surprise before he looks away again, his posture straightening. Rachel, who'd been mid-pose with her back arched and voice raised for attention, finally notices the newcomer. Her expression shifts from performative sweetness to open irritation. Ugh. A foreigner? Really? She asks—as if she wasn't an American in an outright full blown Japanese hero University.